sleepytimejunction | ❧ open rp

[ 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.]

[ Alucard doesn't ask, and Trevor doesn't volunteer, and so as they find the road and follow it north it's in relative silence.

Spring is starting to arrive, at least, and that means easier hunting. He picks a spot by the side of the road to camp just before sunset. More exposed than he'd normally like to be, but then normally he doesn't need this decent a view of the road. ]

You're still going to be okay, taking watch?

[ Not that there's a lot Trevor can do about it if he isn't. He's been beyond exhausted for a long time now. ]

[The travel is quiet. Not like the tense silence between them when Trevor had initially-- well, kidnapped him. But it is more complacent with their newfound respective freedoms, even with the daunting task of facing Dracula settled somewhere behind them.

When they do stop, Adrian settles comfortably as he can, his gaze set to the road, the clear sky, as if waiting for the worst.]

Yes.

[Adrian looks at Trevor.]

You're safe with me.

[ Safe.

Something seems to leave his body at that word, his shoulders slumping and his hands falling limply to his sides. Safe. He sounds more exhausted than he has in a while when he answers, smiling. ]

I know.

[ His silence is different, as he sets about making a fire. Warmer. More thoughtful. ]

I wish I could say the same, but- I'll do my best.

I know you will.

[And so, Adrian waits, watching Trevor arrange his fire. He thinks back to the last time he'd watched the hunter sleep, how agonizing his nightmares must have been. He wonders what it is that primarily plagues him now -- his choices, his past, or somewhere in between.

Once he's certain that Trevor is asleep, he slinks forward, shifting his form to that of a wolf. With a huff, he curls up at his side, still determined to take watch, but additionally just as determined to be at his side if he's needed.]

[ Safe.

He sleeps better, for a little while. He’s never been safe since he was twelve, and Adrian probably doesn’t understand just how much that phrase meant to him (which is a blessing, of sorts. It would make things weird if he understood). It’s an hour before the bible verses begin this time, ragged desperate things spoken in the language he spoke at home.

Except this time, they stop. He recognises where he is - the rug by the kitchen fireplace with the warm weights of the dogs around him. Where he’d always be sent when he was afraid, when the things that his family was became too overwhelming. When he killed his first human-shaped thing. When they recieved news that one of their own wouldn’t be returning. When the threats began.

He buries his face and twisted hands in Adrian’s fur, as if hiding against him, and the bible verses stop. ]

[Patiently, he lays next to Trevor for however long he is needed, his tail occasionally thumping. When he feels the hunter's face press into his fur and hands gripping him, he curls around him protectively, huffing softly. Nightmares are a different brand of personal demons, one that he knows, and if this is how to ward them off then he'd do it a thousand times over for him.

It is not for all night, and physical demons are tireless things when the sun is gone. Adrian's ears twitch at the approach of beasts, and he growls, baring his teeth instinctively. He nudges Trevor at his brow before he pulls free, dashing into the woods without waiting.

They're Isaac's creations, lovingly rearranged into gargoyle-like furred beasts. Adrian launches himself forward, still a wolf, brutally tearing away one's throat with his fangs before gnawing at another's chest to get to the heart.]

[ He blinks into wakefulness, and Adrian is gone too quickly for him to be able to process the way that he was clinging to the dhampir in his sleep. It's with more difficulty than usual that he pushes himself to his feet and grips the Vampire Killer (safety. safety makes him sloppy.) but soon enough he's at the wolf's side, sending the whip into the chest of one of the beasts. A short, olibanum-wood knife finds its way into the eye socket of another, the blessed wood seeping into its blood like poison and burning it from the inside.

The wolf, he only half recognizes. But it's an easy enough guess. ]

Adrian, that's you?

[When he hears the whip, he knows Trevor is up and ready to fight; he watches how it causes the demon's chest to explode in a fiery mess, something he dodges easily enough.

He looks up after hearing his name, then tips his chin up to reveal the glint of silver around his throat. Even in this form, the collar remains, making him now look like an exotic pet. It appears no matter what form he takes, it resizes to adapt to his body.

With a leap, he snatches one of the flying demons out of the air, dragging it down to the earth below. Shaking his head viciously, he snaps bones and tears into flesh. It's violent, lacking any sign of the regal man from before, now content to kill whatever enemies decide to follow them. He did promise to keep Trevor safe, and he's had enough of being a hapless prisoner to anyone.]

[ So it is Adrian. Good to know that he isn't going to have to fight the big angry wolf, and useful to know that he should probably avoid hitting the big angry wolf with anything blessed.

It's good, to be able to defend himself again, to not have to wait for Dracula's leave to use the whip. To mostly be covered in the blood of things that aren't himself.

There are a lot of demons. Not all that Isaac means to send to the border, more than likely, but a substantial first wave. Enough that it'll take time to rebuild the forces after a loss like this, and enough that Trevor's left gasping down air desperately by the end of the fight. A few have made it through, flying ones too high for either of them to pull down, but no more than three or four. Those, they'll have to trust their Speaker to see to. ]

Fuck, that was more than I expected. [ He gasps out, slowly getting his breath back. So he might be a little out of practice, after a long period of only either fighting one on one of acting as a glorified punching bag. ] You still alive, not-a-fucking-dog?

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject