[ of course he is. alucard takes a normal drink of this next glass, at least not chugging the whole thing.
he knows, logically, that eventually the pain and self-loathing will wane back to normal, but now they're sharp in his chest.
trevor's arm feels strange. not bad, just strange. no one touches him, much less touches him like this. it's such a rare thing that he finds himself leaning into it slightly without even realizing it, an affection-starved dog, though he'd be loath to admit it. ]
[ she grants him leeway when it's important, when it means everything. to have time to process without having to report back is... important. he doesn't want to cry in front of trevor but he especially doesn't want to cry in front of integra, who knows him well enough to know how far gone that moment would be.
he doesn't want pity.
when trevor shifts alucard follows instinctively, taking another drink and leaning into him slightly. not a lot, but enough.
he finally smiles faintly, a little wry. ]
I keep thinking I wish I'd known sooner so I could have at least buried her.
[ where had she been? on the airship, with everything else? it had been utterly destroyed, which means so were her remains. he winces slightly to think about it. ]
[Yes, he's definitely going to have to make a point to meet Integra soon. She seems -- important to Alucard, and his Alucard has met her, so it's probably about that time.
He doesn't push any more contact right now, but he'll keep the offer open, so to speak.
Trevor makes a thoughtful noise.]
Well, you can always do something for her even if that's not the case. A memorial?
[He'd found most of the bodies, but ... well. It had seemed better to have them all together in one place, as they'd lived; the memorial had gone elsewhere on the property.]
[ alucard's relationship with integra is complicated. he loves her, in his own way, but it's not a romantic love. it's a love that's difficult to place and quantify. he's obsessed with her with ever fiber of his being, and he respects her above all else. she's an ideal that no one else can even aspire to, to him. powerful, steadfast, but not unkind.
he'd be happy, if the people he enjoyed the company of all knew her. even if it means knowing he's shackled, he doesn't care about that. not like he once did.
he considers trevor's statement a moment before nodding. ]
I'm sure there's space on the grounds.
[ back home. he's not going to sully her by putting one in this place. better that hellsing have a memorial to the woman that helped destroy dracula. ]
There was a novel, written about us. [ thoughtful. ] The end of it isn't accurate, but most of it is.
[Trevor can't say he understands that level of obsession, but he thinks he can probably picture it after seeing how Dracula reacted to his wife being burned at the stake, in his world. Even if their love wasn't romantic, it was still -- all encompassing in some ways, it seemed, if their previous conversations about Integra had told him much.
He seems satisfied enough with the answer about the memorial.
At least they're getting away from talking about the most depressing parts of this conversation. He blinks, though, glancing down-slash-over at the vampire.]
That doesn't surprise me. People love to tell stories about Dracula, so I'm sure a novel would be the next logical step.
[ it's a very similar obsession, really. in contrast to his sorrow now, if something happened to integra he would burn the whole world and himself down to avenge her, and he wouldn't rest until it was completed.
that's just how he is.
as for the novel, he huffs out a weak laugh. ] You're right. There are plenty of stories, but I think that one's the most enduring. People love it because I lose at the end. It gives them peace of mind knowing that monsters can lose.
It was mostly letters transcribed directly. So unless he changed the contents, it seems realistic enough. I've read it a few times over the years, just to see how they all thought about things. It's... interesting, if nothing else. How meticulous their planning was.
Huh. So someone was actually interested in getting most of the story correct.
[That speaks more to him about a historian than someone wanting to just write a novel, but -- well, what does he really know about that kind of thing?]
Do you still have the letters? I've got -- not much left of the people I lost.
[ most people think it's a fictional account, of course: no one wants to believe that dracula was real. alucard pauses and then shakes his head, frowning. ]
I was never granted access to their letters. I just have the book, which is as close as I'll get.
[He tips the whiskey bottle into his own glass, since it's been a little while since he's had any drink. If Alucard's more than half-done his, he'll top up just a splash.]
And most stories are one sided. Getting both sides can prove a challenge.
[ he nods his thanks for the top up, taking another drink just after. at least he's going slower, now. ]
No one wants my side, it's awful. It'd all be missives to my servant and complaining about how the humans just don't understand that they should give me what I want.
[Trevor can't help the light chuckle. He's relaxing a little with the drink, his arm around Alucard at once heavier and somehow more casual.]
God, that does sound like torture. I ought to be glad the other Noble houses never wanted anything to do with us. It was weird enough having caretakers now and again.
[They never seemed to last long -- either they became untrustworthy, or they left of their own volition. Some things in the Belmont household couldn't be easily unseen.]
I was absolutely insufferable even when I was pretending to be nice. Renfield was the closest thing to a friend I had, and I was controlling him for my own gain.
[ a mess. at least he's cognizant that it was bad. he seems like it anyway. ]
[It makes him wonder whether Alucard's father would've gotten better if he'd had the chance. He shakes that thought off, though, and settles for looking at Alucard again.]
You seem like you're doing better to be rid of all that, too.
It takes the right person. I bucked against my first master until the day he died. Tried to kill him whenever he slipped up. But he was... a special case. His son was marginally better, and now there's Integra.
[ let's not talk about how he was gonna eat her. anyway he likes getting stepped on, how dare you not make the joke. ]
The reason I'm immune to everything is because he experimented on me for years. I'm not as I once was, but he wanted to use me as an unstoppable weapon, so it suited his needs.
[ another faint snort. ]
He was definitely boastful. I used to ask him where Mina was, just to know she was still alive, and he would hold it over my head but never tell me. He was very... proud, to have Dracula under his thumb.
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he feels so tired, so run-down.
he wants... he doesn't know what he wants. ]
Yeah.
[ to the drink. he doesn't know what else to say. yeah, he wants to drown it. ]
At some point it's information I need to tell Integra.
[ but he's reluctant to do it right now. she'll look at him, and understand, and he thinks he'd hate it right now. ]
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[The information.
He pours Alucard another drink, although this one is a little less heavy-handed than the first one.
He's seen that exhaustion often enough, knows what it feels like to some extent. He's not sure how he'd deal with it after so many years, either.
After a moment of hesitation, he drops his arm around Alucard's shoulder. It's -- friendly, not too constrictive, but something he can offer.]
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[ of course he is. alucard takes a normal drink of this next glass, at least not chugging the whole thing.
he knows, logically, that eventually the pain and self-loathing will wane back to normal, but now they're sharp in his chest.
trevor's arm feels strange. not bad, just strange. no one touches him, much less touches him like this. it's such a rare thing that he finds himself leaning into it slightly without even realizing it, an affection-starved dog, though he'd be loath to admit it. ]
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[Not when things are so raw and unpleasant, like exposed nerves.
He thinks of how he should've gone back to the house where the rest of his family had been killed right away, looked for survivors.
But he'd been a scared boy, when it came down to it, and there probably hadn't been anyone. Still, how could he have been sure?
He lets out a harsh sigh and shifts to lean back, so Alucard can rest against him if he wants to.]
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[ she grants him leeway when it's important, when it means everything. to have time to process without having to report back is... important. he doesn't want to cry in front of trevor but he especially doesn't want to cry in front of integra, who knows him well enough to know how far gone that moment would be.
he doesn't want pity.
when trevor shifts alucard follows instinctively, taking another drink and leaning into him slightly. not a lot, but enough.
he finally smiles faintly, a little wry. ]
I keep thinking I wish I'd known sooner so I could have at least buried her.
[ where had she been? on the airship, with everything else? it had been utterly destroyed, which means so were her remains. he winces slightly to think about it. ]
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He doesn't push any more contact right now, but he'll keep the offer open, so to speak.
Trevor makes a thoughtful noise.]
Well, you can always do something for her even if that's not the case. A memorial?
[He'd found most of the bodies, but ... well. It had seemed better to have them all together in one place, as they'd lived; the memorial had gone elsewhere on the property.]
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he'd be happy, if the people he enjoyed the company of all knew her. even if it means knowing he's shackled, he doesn't care about that. not like he once did.
he considers trevor's statement a moment before nodding. ]
I'm sure there's space on the grounds.
[ back home. he's not going to sully her by putting one in this place. better that hellsing have a memorial to the woman that helped destroy dracula. ]
There was a novel, written about us. [ thoughtful. ] The end of it isn't accurate, but most of it is.
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He seems satisfied enough with the answer about the memorial.
At least they're getting away from talking about the most depressing parts of this conversation. He blinks, though, glancing down-slash-over at the vampire.]
That doesn't surprise me. People love to tell stories about Dracula, so I'm sure a novel would be the next logical step.
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that's just how he is.
as for the novel, he huffs out a weak laugh. ] You're right. There are plenty of stories, but I think that one's the most enduring. People love it because I lose at the end. It gives them peace of mind knowing that monsters can lose.
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[Trevor knows from experience what kind of life that makes you live. He shrugs his shoulders.]
Most people who tell and write stories weren't even there when things happened, so I'm fucking shocked they got any of it right, actually.
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[ he's thoughtful a moment, before nodding. ]
It was mostly letters transcribed directly. So unless he changed the contents, it seems realistic enough. I've read it a few times over the years, just to see how they all thought about things. It's... interesting, if nothing else. How meticulous their planning was.
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[That speaks more to him about a historian than someone wanting to just write a novel, but -- well, what does he really know about that kind of thing?]
Do you still have the letters? I've got -- not much left of the people I lost.
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[ most people think it's a fictional account, of course: no one wants to believe that dracula was real. alucard pauses and then shakes his head, frowning. ]
I was never granted access to their letters. I just have the book, which is as close as I'll get.
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[He tips the whiskey bottle into his own glass, since it's been a little while since he's had any drink. If Alucard's more than half-done his, he'll top up just a splash.]
And most stories are one sided. Getting both sides can prove a challenge.
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[ he nods his thanks for the top up, taking another drink just after. at least he's going slower, now. ]
No one wants my side, it's awful. It'd all be missives to my servant and complaining about how the humans just don't understand that they should give me what I want.
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God, that does sound like torture. I ought to be glad the other Noble houses never wanted anything to do with us. It was weird enough having caretakers now and again.
[They never seemed to last long -- either they became untrustworthy, or they left of their own volition. Some things in the Belmont household couldn't be easily unseen.]
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[ a mess. at least he's cognizant that it was bad. he seems like it anyway. ]
It feels... better, to be rid of all of that.
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You seem like you're doing better to be rid of all that, too.
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[ a sigh. ]
If that takes being leashed, so be it.
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I guess if it works for you and you've got someone willing to step in, so to speak.
[Don't make a 'step on vampires' joke, Trevor. Don't do it.]
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It takes the right person. I bucked against my first master until the day he died. Tried to kill him whenever he slipped up. But he was... a special case. His son was marginally better, and now there's Integra.
[ let's not talk about how he was gonna eat her. anyway he likes getting stepped on, how dare you not make the joke. ]
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What, he didn't figure out how much you liked being stepped on until it was too late or something?
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I wish that were the case, but I do have a type and it's 'willing to tell me to shut the fuck up.' [ he smiles faintly, reminiscent. ]
He was the one that defeated me, that came the closest anyone had to killing me.
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Incidentally, 'shut the fuck up' is a phrase that literally passes his lips on a fairly regular basis with varying levels of seriousness.]
So -- he didn't tell you to shut up because he wanted to gloat about his victory?
[That's his guess, at least. It seems like the sort of stupid, prideful thing someone would do.]
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[ another faint snort. ]
He was definitely boastful. I used to ask him where Mina was, just to know she was still alive, and he would hold it over my head but never tell me. He was very... proud, to have Dracula under his thumb.
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