sleepytimejunction | ❧ open rp

He's a good man. He saved me. He saved my family.

[ It's soft and low, with a note of desperation to it now, as if convincing Adrian of that isn't half as important as convincing himself.

And then Adrian asks what he believes, and in truth, he can't answer that. ]

I believe that there is a man using his name, perhaps. [ That's the closest he can come to reconciling what is happening with the world he knows. A man using the name of a legend to strike fear into other men. He looks out into the empty space before them. The crowd is gone, now, but they haven't long before others give chase. If that castle is to appear, and half of him prays that it won't, not because he fears what awaits him there but because the implications of his family being correct about something so impossible are bone-chilling, it would be best that it appear soon, before the guard comes and initiates bloodshed. ] My deal was with you, and not with him. Will he harm the people here?

Saved them with fire, wasn't it? [Adrian isn't holding back on what he thinks. Which is, basically, the Church is shit and this Belmont is delusional after a healthy dose of brainwashing, probably.] Honestly, I wasn't even aware there were any Belmonts left.

[He snorts softly.]

Not a very good Belmont, are you. [Though good enough to want to protect others, even if they wouldn't really deserve it.] ...I don't know. But I will do everything to convince him not to. And I know Mother will do the same, when she is awake. He'll have no choice but to listen to her, that I do know.

[The night sky lights up, clouds parting as a bolt of magic sears through the air, sending waves of aftershocks as Dracula's castle appears on the outskirts of Targoviste. Adrian passes a look to the Belmont, then holds out his sword to him.]

Do me a favor and hold this. I don't think we should go at your pace anymore.

[Should Trevor take it, Adrian is wordlessly throwing the Belmont over his shoulder before moving at inhuman speeds to make his way toward the castle.]

[ He's silent in response to that. In truth, he didn't think there were Belmonts left, either. But then his first response to a vampire had been not his mentor's belief that such things were not real but his family's - to find the whip that had been confiscated when he first came into the bishop's care. Some sins are, apparently, buried too deep for the lash to dig them out. Small wonder that the burning is necessary.

Carefully, he takes the sword back from Adrian, returning it to his hip. ]

I don't expect to need it. [ It's solemn, careful. He tries to avoid giving any indication that he means to break his side of the bargain and leave, not when the vampire's side of it is so important.

...it would be significantly more dignified, probably, if it was not immediately followed by being carried around like a particularly religious sack of potatoes at a very high speed. ]

[It takes them remarkably little time this way to reach the castle on the outskirts, even if it's not the most elegant method. But Adrian does want to abide by his word as much as he can, and if that means giving Dracula the time to focus on his wife's health, then so be it.

They're outside the steps now, and Adrian deposits Trevor to the ground, letting him figure out his feet. Without waiting, Adrian shoves the doors open with a shoulder.]

Come here.

[He's instructing Trevor, careful to not use his family name. Not yet.

Adrian. The voice comes from the shadows, Dracula emerging as if he were part of them. His eyes flit to Trevor, but then focus on his son and wife alike.]

She lives, Father. Though she's injured. We should leave Targoviste and tend to her.

[Delicately, Dracula takes his wife, the care he takes include love and tenderness. He pauses at his son's words, then he glares at Trevor. And this man?]

He surrendered himself to me, allowing me to walk out with Mother so long as I did not harm his people.

[Dracula scoffs, retreating further into the castle, toward his laboratory. Who is to say they deserve their lives for this hypocrisy?]

She wouldn't agree, and you know this. At least grant them their mercy until you and Mother speak.

[And this boy?]

I will... let me determine a fate for him. If nothing else, he showed more heart than is people.

[Dracula looks at both of them for a moment. There is untold rage in his eyes, not unlike Adrian's, but a quiet simmer and disgust toward the people who attempted to execute his wife. But in the end, she is alive and needs his care. That, at least, seems to matter more to him than revenge.

The castle will be moved after I care for your mother. Keep out any intruders in the meanwhile. At your discretion.]

[ That is Dracula. That is the pale shadow of Mathias Cronqvist, the truest ally of Death, the king who reigns between dusk and dawn. That is the thing his family fought for four centuries. He is real. He wants to pretend otherwise, but every part of him screams with the certainty. And Trevor is terrified. Not of the fact that there is a very angry, very large vampire in the same room as him, but of the implications.

If Dracula is real, perhaps his family's word could be trusted. Perhaps he can trust nothing he knows to be true. And perhaps there are no witches in Lupu. Perhaps he almost put the torch to an innocent woman.

Perhaps the ones who came before were innocent, as well.

To his credit, he succeeds in not collapsing to the ground until after Dracula dismisses them and attends to the work of tending his wife's injuries. The strength leaves his legs the moment the door to the laboratory closes and he falls forward, knees slamming against the stone of the castle's floor, pale and trembling. ]

He is real.

[For a moment, Adrian watches the Belmont. It would be easy to look down on him, growl at his naivete and despise him for it, but at the end of it all, this man did indeed save lives even if perhaps it didn't go quite as intended.

So, instead, his voice becomes softer, a fraction more compassionate.]

He is. Not all legends are true, but your family was more accurate than the Church's cold denial.

[He kneels down at the Belmont's side.]

What is your first name?

[ For all of his other weaknesses, he has always considered himself to be of sound mind. So far as he can trust anything, he is certain that he can trust what he sees. He wants this to be a delusion of some sort, but it's hard to believe that it might be. ]

He is real. [ He repeats, softer, before the question gives him a blessed distraction. It takes him a moment to answer, and his face shifts in concentration before he does. ]Trey- [ No. That was a nickname. ] -Trevor.

[ It comes out uncertain, as if he's testing the feel of the name as it leaves his lips. That sounds right. ] It was Trevor.

Trevor.

When you saw me, you knew what I was. Rather, what was mostly true. Your old instincts can be trusted in that regard.

[Whatever small comfort can be offered in that regard.]

The Church took you in after what they did to your family?

[ He knows the name is his, on some level, but there's no automatic response to it. He's just been 'Belmont' for a long time. ]

You're real. [ Shit. He's real. All of this is real. The horror is still sinking in. The fact that some of those burned may have had no sin in them to burn away, the fact that things he's sworn over and over to know to be false are true. And slowly, slowly, an understanding of the force that might have been (might yet be) unleashed upon the people of Targoviste.

He nods in answer, trying to struggle to his feet. Perhaps normally he might be a little more cagey about questions about his family and his life before he came into the bishop's care. ]

The sin wasn't so deep yet that it needed to be burned out.

Your family was a lot of things. Witches and practitioners of black magic, they were not.

[Simply just saying it won't be enough. He doesn't quite recall how long ago the estate was burned by the Church, but that's still many years that Trevor's been with the Bishop. Years enough to convince him that it was necessary.

That will take more than a simple conversation.]

I will not force you to stay, Trevor Belmont. However, I did indeed feel it was not to our best interests to leave you to the Church.

But I would ask that you stay, at least for a time. Bargain or no bargain, I am not of the habit of taking prisoners.

[ He should go back. He should go back, and face his punishment, and he won't have to know that Dracula is real. He will burn for following Adrian and Lisa to leave, surely, but it will be comfortable. Safe. The right thing to do.

Being given a choice is new and frightening in itself. It's uncomfortable, knowing that anything he chooses could be wrong. And it means that he can't give responsibility for what he decides to someone else. ]

Let me stay. [ It means that when he chooses not to go back, there's nothing forcing him to stay here. Just him, deciding not to do as he should. Because some part of him wants to be here. Wants to know more. Wants to at least see what his family fought. Curiosity is a vice that the bishop despises, one of the few that Trevor has managed to avoid indulging before, but now it burns in him. ] A little while.

[Quietly, he is pleased by Trevor's decision. The entire affair with the Church nearly burning Lisa could have ended all the worse, but all things considered, there'd only been one casualty, something he himself will own up to whenever Mother wakes.

Despite his circumstances, Trevor did a tremendous service for his people.]

I don't know that I should tell Father who you are, precisely. [Which is why he'd been careful about not really mentioning Belmont.] So I leave that option in your hands.

But I welcome you to stay. It would serve you better than returning to the Bishop. For now, I suppose I should keep an eye out to ensure there won't be a mob deciding to try to come to the castle. You're welcome to join if you so wish.

And I will continue to keep my word, so long as we are here. Mob or no mob.

The woman's treatment. [ 'No witches in Lupu. No man or beast touched by the night causes trouble in Lupu, not in a decade. We don't know why.' She was innocent. They made a mistake, and she was innocent. ] Will it distract him from it, if he knows my name?

[ Less than an hour ago, he had been the one holding the torch to burn her. ]

My family said that there are no witches nor monsters in Lupu. I thought- they were liars. That they must have been saying that to protect her.

It may. So I might suggest keeping it to yourself for now, until we're at least away from Targoviste.

[Adrian goes to step out from the castle, if only to keep his eyes trained to the edges of the city.]

You were told that they were liars. Hardly your own idea. [He keeps it in mind, to blame the Church and not Trevor specifically.] My mother is from Lupu, and my father is dedicated to her. So he ensured that it was left alone. Especially while I was growing up.

I will. Until we're gone, and until the distraction won't put her treatment in jeopardy.

[ Well shit, they may not have been liars, but they could absolutely not have been more wrong about 'nothing to worry about in Lupu'. Not that it matters now. Not that it's mattered in a decade.

A horn is being blown in the city. It's distant, far further than it feels they should have been able go in such a short time, but Trevor listens to the pattern of it. ]

They're recalling any men outside of the city walls and locking the gates. They think that we are still within the city, and that they've locked us in. [ He sighs with relief at that. Adrian- genuinely does seem trustworthy (the devil always will), but he doubts Dracula is bound to his son's promises. ] The mob will come once they're done searching inside the walls. At least a few hours.

❧ open rp - adrian/alucard

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