sleepytimejunction | ❧ open rp

[All that he needs. Adrian supposes that's true; perhaps he's just been too lonely to hope for even friendship, but their circumstances haven't allowed either of them to march. Trevor, under servitude to Dracula; Adrian, a prisoner in what was once his home. There are no friends here, but hesitant cooperation.

Still, he holds out his hand, no fear in his eyes. The news he seems to take well, his face impassive. Quietly, he's glad but also concerned. If the forgemasters know, then they will do everything they can to stop her.]

Come here, please.

[The hand stays out, palm up.]

What are our options do you suppose, Belmont?

[ He does as he's told. He's good at doing that, and following Adrian's directions is better than anyone else's here. Less likely to end in pain or humiliation or nails that are a little too pointed, senses that are a little too sharp. He lays his hand on Adrian's.

His voice is low when he speaks, but there isn't too much to worry about. The thick silver curtain serves another purpose, keeping sound from entering or leaving. The intention must have been to keep Adrian ignorant of the goings-on of the court, but now it makes this room the safest place there can be in this castle to plot. ]

Carmilla has been asking questions of the forgemasters, Hector mostly. About the control wand. She's been meaning to lay claim to it for some time, I think. [ Which, you know, a hell of a horrifying thing to just drop on Adrian casually like this. ] I wouldn't have allowed her, but-

-she could be convinced to act now, I think. In this chaos. And if she does, it's as good a chance as any to destroy the thing.

[The hand feels nothing like Trevor's when they first met. The fingers too long, the skin slowly becoming less human. Quietly, he mourns for him; though Adrian is not afraid of what he is now, he wishes that it would not be like this. He shouldn't have to lose his humanity.

Finally, there is a tense look on Adrian's face when he hears that news. Being under his father's direct control is miserable, but he hasn't forced Adrian to do anything untoward, nor would he.

Carmilla, though...

Slowly, he squeezes Trevor's hand.]

Do whatever it is you must, Trevor. If she can disrupt Father's plans, if it gains us the opportunity-- then do it.

Know that whatever happens, if we fail, if she gains control of me, you may have another vampire to slay. And I am prepared for that possibility.

[ It's- nice. Having his name again. This place is the only place he's had that luxury in a long, long time. He doesn't know what to make of the way that Adrian looks at his ruined hands (it was only the fingertips when he was last here, now it's almost the entire fingers. Isaac's had to bring him back from death's door a few times, and every time leaves its mark), but- it's not horror or disgust or amusement, and that's something.

He squeezes back. He doesn't know what it means, but it feels correct. ]

Won't let it happen.

[ It's not like he has that much control over the situation, and he's not usually one for comforting lies. But he has to say something, and agreeing to kill his only ally here shouldn't be it. ] I'll defend myself, if I have to. And I won't let you hurt anyone who hasn't fucking earned it.

[The reciprocation is... enough. Whatever it is. Uneasy allies, the closest thing they both have to friends, it doesn't matter. Perhaps he can't give it a definition and neither can Trevor.

Adrian's eyes soften somewhat at what he says. It doesn't sound very realistic to him, that somehow Trevor won't allow it to happen. It horrifies him to think that he is forced to submit to anyone's will. With Dracula, the worst is being forced to submission. With Carmilla, it would be much worse.]

Remember what I have demanded of you. [He wants-- he needs Trevor to live.] How are Isaac and Hector retaliating against the Speaker?

Squabbling, as always. Hector wants to let them be. They're out of the country. He didn't understand the reason Dracula was having them watched over in the first place.

[ His illusions about Dracula's vengeance being restricted to Wallachia have been thoroughly dispelled. Hector's remain. ]

Isaac knows. He'll have questions, about why I came here when the news reached us. He means to send a greater force to the border and have an example made of the speaker. I complicate things. [ Because of course he fucking does. ]

If I don't take action, I don't think your father will allow violent retaliation. They're there to keep me in line. But this might be the only chance we have to act.

Alas, Hector.

[A softer man, naive -- meaning well, as far as killing humans go. His hand stays in Trevor's, his thumb idly rolling over the hunter's knuckles.]

Then we need to make a choice.

[Adrian faces Trevor, looking at him in the eyes, unwavering.]

If we can manage to somehow... assist Carmilla, it will disrupt matters here. Perhaps long enough to let you find the Speaker and help her.

We need her. And we will need you. If nothing else, I am a very fine distraction for the castle.

[ The texture of them is leathery, which is basically the least helpful quality one can have to work with when trying to discern what kind of awful thing one is turning into. ]

The control wand, then. If Carmilla can open the way to it, I can either destroy it or- if the worst happens, I don't think I'm her first target, and taking it from her should at least be easier than taking it from your father.

[ He lets go of Adrian's hands, but puts a hand on his shoulder. ]

If she fails, I leave you here and go alone. [ Which feels kind of like the wrong thing to do, since he was the one who brought Adrian here. But if he physically can't leave the room there's not many other options. ]

But I'll come back for you, once she's safe.

Do whatever it takes to ensure that you can reach the Speaker. No matter what occurs here, I shall survive it. If Carmilla is convinced that she has you manipulated, then you are far from her first target. If anything, likely Isaac is her first concern.

[There is a pause, then he takes Trevor by the arm in order to guide him to sit next him on the bed. Not for anything else other than he knows he's been terribly lonely here.]

How much longer do you have to be here?

I understand.

[ Thinking in terms of strategy, it's- something of a victory for them either way, should the worst happen and Carmilla take the control wand. Dracula and his court will be her likely first targets, and- so either she wins, and Adrian kills his father, or she fails, and Adrian is returned to this place. They wouldn't be any worse off.

In terms of anything else, it's horrifying to think what it would put Adrian through. Makes him say stupid shit like 'won't let it happen' as if he has any power over whether it happens or not. This is his fault in so many ways. He is the one who dragged Adrian into this, the closest thing he's had to a friend since long before this began. The collar is a Belmont thing, even.

He sits down with Adrian, for once not here to stay very still while he puts neat stitches through cuts. This isn't strategy anymore. He's given his message. He doesn't need to be here. This is a clumsy attempt at comfort, and he can't for the life of him tell who is offering it to who. ]

If Carmilla can be convinced to act, it'll be during daylight. [ While those vampires who still need to rest are asleep, and while her intended puppet can move about freely but her victims cannot. ] So an hour or so, until daybreak.

I see.

[Slowly, he reaches up, pulling Trevor's head to have him tuck neatly against Adrian's shoulder. Comfort for who indeed; it is a selfish gesture, he thinks, but he also wants to offer Trevor something, who doesn't take care of himself, who is terribly self-destructive, but he is trying to make amends.

And though he doesn't say it, it does make Adrian's heart ache to watch him like this. He doesn't hate him, doesn't hold a grudge for what's happened.]

Then rest, while you have the time to. When is the last time you had?

I slept yesterday.

[ Which isn't quite the same thing. Sleep is a part of strategy, a resource to be claimed where he can get it, stolen for a few hours at a time in hard-to-spot corners of the castle. He has quarters of his own, yes, but their location is known to every vampire here, every new fledgling who seeks to prove themselves by leaving another mark on the Belmont. He would be a fool to use them.

Rest requires safety. And this is the only place in the castle that anything close to safety can be found.

He rests his head against Adrian's shoulder, and it's only awkward at first before he settles against him easily. And there's a horrible irony to all of this, the way that if anyone, anyone, had reached out to him like this before then neither of them would be here. ]

Wish I'd known you before. [ He mumbles, allowing himself to be exhausted for just a while. ]

I may not be completely human, but I'm certain you need more than that.

[To his relief, Trevor relaxes against him, and Adrian can bear the weight easily; he's had nothing but sleep and feeding and doing utterly nothing useful by being trapped in his own childhood room. If he can be strong for awhile for both of them, then he would gladly manage it.

He closes his eyes and frowns to himself.]

I wish many things were different. ...But that has also crossed my mind more than once.

[Trevor isn't a terrible man, just a man who tried to make the best of a situation through bitterness and the life he'd been forced into. Adrian can understand that.]

Should we both be successful, I would like to know you better, I think. [It is hesitant, but he does want to offer that. Even if he doesn't think that realistically they will, but he wants to try.

Even if at the end of all this he thought to himself he would just sleep under the best of circumstances. But if they both live, perhaps otherwise...]

Shit, if you know me better you're going to find out that I'm an asshole. And then you won't let me sleep on you.

[ It's strange, how warmth manages to seep into his voice like that. How it sounds like it ought to have been there all along. He sinks into Adrian further, practically boneless against him, and closes his eyes. ]

Wake me at dawn?

If you think that I haven't already made that conclusion, then you're a fool. Yet, I let you anyway, so perhaps I am as well.

[It's the closest thing to comfort he's had in sometime -- perhaps, for both of them. He shifts slightly, letting Trevor lean against him as he'd like.]

Of course. Sleep, Trevor.

[ And he does. More easily than he perhaps should in even the safest part of this castle. He hasn't been so safe, so comfortable in the better part of a year. For a little while he's completely at rest.

It doesn't last until dawn. Once sleep has properly begun to overtake him his fingers begin to twitch, his face curls into a frown, his breath comes heavier, going in in gasps and coming out as mumbled bible verses in french. He reaches for the first thing he can hold on to - Adrian's hands again.

(The first time he has to go to the forgemasters for treatment is shortly after Carmilla's arrival. She whispers into the ear of Dragoslav, the bearded one. Reminds him of how the Belmonts hunted his own armies to the last, of how he barely survived himself. Suggests that his loyalty to Dracula should earn him at least a little revenge. The man wrenches his ribs open in front of the court, tearing out mouthfuls of flesh from inside, and Dracula only waves Isaac over to repair him before he dies and loses his usefulness. When the delirium of pain passes, his eyes are too bright.)

By dawn, his grip on Adrian's hands would be crushing, were he mortal. ]

[There is the temptation for Adrian himself to sleep, but he feels it's more necessary to take up his old position of watching over Trevor's resting form. Idly, when he's certain the man is asleep, he brushes his unkempt hair from his face lightly. For awhile, the hunter almost looks peaceful, and isn't that something.

But it doesn't last, and how could it? Adrian is no stranger to nightmares, and he can only imagine what haunts Trevor, when he frowns and murmurs, as if begging for God's mercy even though they both know better. There is the temptation to wake him, but when he feels his hands taken, Adrian stays still.

No, it's better to let him sleep, even if it is a nightmare.

Once dawn trickles through his window, he feels his hands creak. Trevor can't crush his bones, but he feels the pressure. If he were human, everything would have broken under his new inhuman strength.

But that isn't why he wakes him. He would endure, if it was possible to let him have longer.]

Trevor. [Adrian's voice is soft and careful, more than he'd expressed before. He wrenches his hands free and smooths the man's hair back, trying to rouse him.] It's time.

[ He has to survive. Adrian has endured so much from him, given so much to him, and asked him only one thing in return. And so he survives, and Adrians' hand is in his through all of it, through the entire court falling upon him, each with a thousand reasons to want his blood, though Hector and Isaac repairing him so that it can begin again.

(Hector only repairs him once, mutters something about euthanasia and leaves the rest of his care to Isaac.).

And then Adrian's hands are gone and that, more than any other horror, is what wrenches him into wakefulness. He doesn't shoot upward or yell, just lies still against the dhampir as he tries to figure out where he is, what the thing in his hair is, settling again as the answers come to him, burying his face against Adrian's shoulder. He returns to himself quickly enough, Adrian's presence gentle and grounding, and his voice is steady by the time he speaks. ]

Time to go try not to fuck up, then.

Trevor...

[Adrian pulls back enough so he can see the man's face. Though there is hesitation, he still reaches out, pressing his palm against Trevor's cheekbone. Little else but a touch of his hands, because he genuinely doesn't know how else to offer anything else to him.]

Try to stay in one piece.

[Because he does want him to be alive. He wants him to have the chance to not be so damned miserable.]

[ What else can he do but lean into the touch and sigh, if not happily, then as close as he's been to happy in a long time. They have a chance, and that's more than they've had since they came here. ]

I'll do my best.

[ It's difficult to bring himself to back away, but he manages. When he does, he feels around for one of his cloak's inner pockets, withdrawing a small vial of red liquid. It's the same thing he forced Adrian to drink before. He hands it over carefully. ]

In case the worst happens. It won't kill you, but- you know what it'll do. [ It's all he can really do to make sure that Adrian isn't forced to do something terrible, to make him actually incapable of it. ] I was saving it for your father. He never fucking feeds.

[There's a cautious look in Adrian's eyes when he takes the vial, remembering it well and knowing its effects, how it even managed to weaken him. He pauses, then closes his eyes and nods.

Of course. Of course Father hasn't been feeding, but has ordered Adrian to keep his strength up. He wonders if in the end, Dracula still anticipates for him to find a way to kill him. If that's what he wants.

They'll know in time.]

How rare it is I would thank a man for giving me poison.

[The vial is put away into the pocket of his coat, a secret he's not looking forward to using, on himself or anyone else, but he will if he must.]

Be well, Trevor Belmont.

How rare a fucking man I am.

[ He pulls the curtain back cautiously at first. It doesn't really matter anymore if he's seen entering and leaving the prison-that-ought-to-be-a-bedroom. One way or another, things change before night falls anyway. But old habits die hard. When he sees that there's nobody there, he leaves.

When Adrian next receives news of what's happening in the castle proper, it isn't from Trevor. It isn't from anyone, just something that he can feel in his bones. Control of him slips from Dracula to Carmilla, at first, all the old instructions gone and a blank, terrible slate replacing them.

But then, before any order can be given, the collar burns white hot. Where knowledge of his orders should be there is only a terrible screeching, like when the cold affects the engines of the castle and they scream in protest before moving. When it cools, when the noise falls away, there's only a kind of silence that he hasn't been able to hear since before the collar was placed onto him. ]

[Admittedly, he isn't certain how long it is that Trevor is gone. Afterward, Adrian does not draw, does not do anything but sleep. All he can do is wait, and he would rather not be awake for it, left wondering about Trevor's ultimate fate.

When he does wake, it is from the jolt rushing through him, the collar and his body knowing that Carmilla has control of him now. An uncertain quiver escapes him, resigned to knowing that she has it, that she will force him to do as she bids.

But like that, it is brutally gone, the collar burning and he scratches pointlessly around it, knowing he can't force it off. He chokes for a moment, somehow his entire body feeling like it's shrieking even though the room is silent.

And when it is truly silent, Adrian looks up hesitantly. No, no matter what questions he has, there are at least two things he needs to do.

Father must die. Trevor needs to be found.

With a growl, Adrian moves, picking up his childhood drafting table and shoving it brutally through the silver curtain to rip it down to permit his escape. He then turns to his bed, twisting off a post into a thick, makeshift stake; his fingernails extend into claws.

It will have to do.

He rushes out of his room, breathing in, trying to make sense of the status of the castle.]

[ Outside of Adrian's room, the castle is in chaos. Carmilla's rebellion was meant to be subtle and clever. But then, there is only so much subtlety when a vital part of one's plan revolves around Godbrand. And only so much cleverness when Trevor Belmont decides to get involved.

The control wand is currently wedged into Godbrand's chest, cracked against the wall behind him and rendered inoperable by the flames consuming him. Hector's creatures create a defensive wall around himself and Carmilla, as Hector yells from within them that she deserves a proper trial before punishment for her betrayal. The other generals bark orders to their own soldiers, those who aren't paralyzed with rage at being ordered around by two forgemasters in a time of emergency. Isaac's creatures snarl threats of what will happen to other traitors into the ears of all they can find.

And Trevor is making every possible effort to not be here when Isaac summons Dracula into the middle of this chaos. He practically runs headlong into Adrian, two of Isaac's wolflike monsters at his heels. ]

[In a matter of seconds, it's a lot to take in, between the control wand buried into Godbrand, Hector shouting for Carmilla's defense, Isaac preparing for his own attack, and the quick approach of Trevor.

Without wasting another moment, Adrian snarls and leaps over Trevor easily enough, coming down and burying his makeshift stake into the head of one of the beasts, causing it to be pinned to the floor; the monster shrieks and claws around uselessly before it dies. The other one snaps its jaws at Adrian, but he catches the beast by its snout and jaw. With a huff, he rips the monster in half inelegantly from the mouth, causing it to bleed over stone, entrails spilling hot and steaming.

He turns, running after Trevor. They can't do this without the Speaker, and he won't even try for it. Not right now. The chaos is useful, but they need to escape. Adrian's claws become blunt like nails once more before he's launching himself forward, grabbing Trevor around the waist before he throws them both out the window.

There's no time to waste, and he will not have the hunter die. They descend quickly, but there is still resistance to gravity by Adrian's power.]

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