sleepytimejunction | ❧ open rp

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.]

[ Well good. He found the vampire. That was step one. Step two was going to be to figure out whether they ought to be running toward or away from Dracula. And since Adrian doesn't make any effort to stop him- well, there's the answer. Step three is getting out, which Adrian achieves with rather more efficiency than he'd been expecting.

And now they're falling out of a window.

His instinct is to move to cushion Adrian's fall but he resists it as best he can. He's mostly human, still liable to die from it. Adrian, at least, can heal. They hit the ground hard, but it's long and dense grass over thick mud and that combined with Adrian's powers are enough to make it survivable, if not pleasant. ]

Fuck-

[ Trevor rolls away from Adrian, curling in around his ribs, swearing a few more times before forcing himself to sit up, looking at the sun above them. ]

-you alive?

At least by half.

[Adrian stands, brushing himself off, but he's quick to approach Trevor and glance over him. He looks whole, alive, and unchanged since they last spoke. It'll have to be enough.

The dhampir reaches for him by the wrist, hauling Trevor to his feet.]

You and I are not enough to charge the castle. Let them have their feuds; we need to look for the Speaker while they have their fight.

[There's a pause, then softly he says:] I'm-- glad you are yourself.

[ He lets Adrian pull him to his feet, feeling gingerly at his chest. Ribs bruised, but not broken. Better than he ought to have been able to expect. ]

And you have a shirt this time. I'm happy for you.

[ And he's cut and bruised and only mostly human, and Adrian's still wearing that terrible collar. But they're out of that place, and they have a head start to find the Speaker, at least from the daylight hours if not from the chaos that's happening in the castle behind them. They're more free than they've been in a while. ]

Shit, it's good to be in the sunlight again.

A marvel to behold.

[It almost makes him smile to hear Trevor quip. Everything is still shit, but it's-- better. They have a better chance now.

Adrian lets out a sigh, brushing back his hair and feeling the sun, the wind, the smell of dew.]

Anywhere but my room is a welcoming sight, just about. [He turns his head to look at Trevor.] The company will do, too.

[ In any other situation, they probably ought to be running. But the only one in the castle with both the ability and inclination to chase them down is Isaac, and he has other concerns right now. They can afford to save their energy (what energy they have left, in Trevor's case). And they'll need it later. It doesn't matter overmuch that getting away from the castle is a slow trudge through the thick mud and dense grasses that padded their fall. ]

North, first. To the border to find the speaker. We make sure she and her people either aren't there or aren't alone when retaliation comes. [ Alucard will have to handle talking to them, being the one who actually looks like a human. Also the one who didn't get them dragged to the border in the first place. ] They might know how to get that thing off you. If not, we go back to my family's libraries. We have to get that collar off, I don't know if the wand's broken beyond repair.

[ He fucked up. He fucked up badly. But they're finally actually moving forward. ]

[The mud and grass do little to slow Adrian down. After the consistent feeding and sleeping, this is the closest he'll ever be to having his full power. He marches tirelessly, eyes scanning the horizon, senses sharp in case they are followed anyway because he can't trust much else. Though Isaac has much else to deal with, he will exercise caution.

He listens to Trevor, a quiet agreement. Adrian tries not to, but he stiffens at the mention of the collar.]

Well. [His voice is a bit more withdrawn, soft, bored-sounding, not unlike when they first met.] If it's any consolation, I will know immediately if they manage to take control of me again.

Perhaps you should take the wine back.

[ The change in tone isn't lost on him. The collar is a horrifying thing, and it's one they can't be rid of properly until they can find a way to break whatever magic is making it impossible to remove. ]

We'll get you free of it.

[ They'll probably get him free of it. Trevor isn't good at comfort. He runs a few steps to catch up, awkwardly resting a hand against Adrian's shoulder. This is how to be comforting? Right? ]

If anyone living knows how, it'll be her people. If nobody living knows how, it'll be in the library.

[It would be easier, he thinks, to slide away to being impassive and indifferent, or at least present himself as such. But there are parts of him that have been vulnerable that Trevor's seen, and parts of Trevor he has seen that he cannot forget.

And he is trying, ultimately, to comfort. To reassure. Even if neither of them are confident it is true what he says, the effort goes not go unnoticed.

His eyes soften slightly, his tone less distant.]

Perhaps. But our primary concern should be to kill Dracula, and we need her for that. That, I do believe.

[There's a pause, then he presses his hand over Trevor's, quietly rediscovering how longer it is, the leather of his skin there. The change known, but not remarked upon or reacted with disgust. Duality of man and monster is nothing new to Adrian.]

And I need you for it as well.

I know. I won't fuck this up for you again.

[ He's still as Adrian's hand falls on top of his. It suddenly matters a lot more, now, outside of the castle. The speakers will be understanding, if they're anything like the people his grandfather talked about, but he'll need to find gloves before dealing with anyone else. And- righting the excommunication is all but impossible now. In truth, though, he'd thrown any chance of that away when he took Dracula's side.

He's a monster. Only a little of one, but a monster nonetheless. In the castle the horror of it had been numbed somewhat. Out here it hurts more to think about. ]

Onward, then. [ He takes his hand from Alucard's shoulder. ] If he means to send things after the Speaker and her people, they'll need to take the same roads as us. We camp at night, we let them catch up, we kill them as they come.

I know you won't.

[Once their hands part and Trevor is no longer touching him, Adrian's expression relaxes back into its distance. He turns and nods, taking lead.]

I'll take watch, as before. I've slept plenty and hardly need it now.

[And he's fed plenty, so he has no need to hunt either. It just leaves him waiting, to be patient, because he refuses to push Trevor any harder than he has already done to himself.

A part of him wants to ask -- if he's really all right. But isn't certain of that topic, how well received it'd be. So, Adrian says nothing instead. He will support as needed of him.]

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