( Gyro isn't the only one who's arrived here with the instant suspicion that there are ulterior motives at play — hard to believe there are any good intentions when one feels as though they've been terribly displaced against their will. moreover, it makes one curious how the people of this one particular place happen to know exactly the solution that the universe needs to return it to its natural state...it feels oddly convenient.
but, Alucard might just be feeling extra irritable in general, given that he went from feeling alone but haunted by what was all-too familiar, to feeling alone and completely out of place. it leaves him feeling more adrift than before, and he thought before was getting bad.
after a silent caravan ride to the Red Spring, he files into the resort with a tense silence between himself and his familiar — a large black dog, its coarse fur seeming almost intangible at its ends, and its eyes almost imperceptible aside from two iris rings staring like stones. honestly, it makes the case stated here a little more compelling... who would give a captive access to more power? he feels the link to the grim like a gravity, telling him that it is truly linked to him...not that he's ever had a familiar before. he's had none of this experience before now.
he wants to be alone to process everything that's happened between the last time he stood foot on Romanian soil and now, so he's glad to be taking up lodging as soon as he arrives...
we all know how this turns out.
Alucard is so spent mentally that when he finds his room occupied by some stranger, he doesn't even know how to react, therefore, he doesn't...which is possibly the worst result, but it seems the man is willing to ignore him in return. he's thankful for that.
he isn't tired, but damn if he isn't weary of all of this, and he takes to lying on the remaining bed in the room — cloak removed and down to his full outfit, boots and all, laying on his back and motionless, staring upward like a body in wait of an autopsy. he couldn't say that he isn't fantasizing about doing just enough work to afford a coffin and take an antisocial nap for as long as is possible before someone comes to bother him again...
and then, the man says something. Alucard blinks slowly before shifting his gaze over to the other in the least urgent way possible. he watches him openly, but with a narrow gaze, low-key but not shamed as the man digs through a bag.
Alucard was actually concerned for a moment that this idiot was pulling out empty bottles, showcasing how much he had consumed, and make him have to hear about it. somehow, it's a relief to see they're all untouched.
still— ) You stole liquor from the caravan. ( the words come on a tone low and dim as molasses, melancholy, almost bitter. it isn't a question. it's clearly a judgment passed onto the man. it's detestable — he should tell him no. he wants to tell him no.
he really wants to tell him no.
he's definitely going to tell him no.
Alucard rolls his head back to stare at the ceiling. )
—arrival
but, Alucard might just be feeling extra irritable in general, given that he went from feeling alone but haunted by what was all-too familiar, to feeling alone and completely out of place. it leaves him feeling more adrift than before, and he thought before was getting bad.
after a silent caravan ride to the Red Spring, he files into the resort with a tense silence between himself and his familiar — a large black dog, its coarse fur seeming almost intangible at its ends, and its eyes almost imperceptible aside from two iris rings staring like stones. honestly, it makes the case stated here a little more compelling... who would give a captive access to more power? he feels the link to the grim like a gravity, telling him that it is truly linked to him...not that he's ever had a familiar before. he's had none of this experience before now.
he wants to be alone to process everything that's happened between the last time he stood foot on Romanian soil and now, so he's glad to be taking up lodging as soon as he arrives...
we all know how this turns out.
Alucard is so spent mentally that when he finds his room occupied by some stranger, he doesn't even know how to react, therefore, he doesn't...which is possibly the worst result, but it seems the man is willing to ignore him in return. he's thankful for that.
he isn't tired, but damn if he isn't weary of all of this, and he takes to lying on the remaining bed in the room — cloak removed and down to his full outfit, boots and all, laying on his back and motionless, staring upward like a body in wait of an autopsy. he couldn't say that he isn't fantasizing about doing just enough work to afford a coffin and take an antisocial nap for as long as is possible before someone comes to bother him again...
and then, the man says something. Alucard blinks slowly before shifting his gaze over to the other in the least urgent way possible. he watches him openly, but with a narrow gaze, low-key but not shamed as the man digs through a bag.
Alucard was actually concerned for a moment that this idiot was pulling out empty bottles, showcasing how much he had consumed, and make him have to hear about it. somehow, it's a relief to see they're all untouched.
still— ) You stole liquor from the caravan. ( the words come on a tone low and dim as molasses, melancholy, almost bitter. it isn't a question. it's clearly a judgment passed onto the man. it's detestable — he should tell him no. he wants to tell him no.
he really wants to tell him no.
he's definitely going to tell him no.
Alucard rolls his head back to stare at the ceiling. )
... Throw me one.