( open ) this somber song will drain the sun

[ananym]

CHARACTERS: Alucard + You
LOCATION: Around the station
DATE: August, before the next mission
CONTENT: Alucard getting used to things
WARNINGS: N/A, will warn if this changes



( i. simulation room )

[ he avoids recreating the castle. he doesn't want to look at it anymore. and perhaps in time and with the people of danesti, it would become a liveable place again. full of wonder and light and warmth. the castle had never been that, not in its entirety. as if his father could only hold so much . . . humanity.

no, the castle is not there. just the outskirts of it, quiet and peaceful. the wind rustles his hair as he sits down next to a gravestone. it has no name, just the belmont crest. he would set flowers, but for an illusion, that seemed overly sentimental. he could picture trevor scoffing at him. instead he has a bottle of wine which he sets down next to him. ]

Well, Belmont. It looks I am truly committed.

[ he takes a swig of his wine bottle before setting it back down. ]

( ii. the kitchen )

[ alucard kept a decent larder back in the castle, but he preferred to hunt and fetch his own food from outside. it got him out, made him feel like a real person. here, things were different. he can no longer live that way or step outside.

now is not the time to mope about it. alucard takes out some cans of food and cartons, staring at them pointedly. ]

Do I just open them . . . ?

[ alucard looks at his fingers and elongates a nail to stab a milk carton. someone should probably show him there's a better way. ]

( iii. sunlight room )

[ it is a strange sight.

alucard has shed his billowy white shirts and long black cloak. the scar on his chest is prominent as he leans back to soak up the sun with the most genuine smile he has ever shown. there's something very calming about this room, something about just . . . light that alucard wants to let in. perhaps, just to chase away his own shadows. ]

( iv. wildcard )

[ got a prompt in mind? hit me up @ timmtams / pm this journal / hit up my plotting comment ]

Comments

The kitchen

[dispassioned]

[Chishiya is in the kitchen making himself some tea to have with his cookies, but at Alucard's question he pauses. And blinks.]

Not like that. Not with the milk.

[It looks like he’s getting ready to stab it. Which could lead to regret. Potentially, anyway.]

Unless you want to make a mess. In which case, continue.

[He won’t stop him. He also won’t help him clean it up, though.]

[ananym]

[ alucard looks at him quizzically. ]

Then it is simply the top?

[dispassioned]

It's better to follow the arrows.

[Milk cartons usually have arrows indicating where and how to open them.]

Here, I'll show you.

[He will take the carton and point to the little arrows at the top before pushing at the top of the carton to part the seam and then squeezing to create the spout. With that done he passes it back to Alucard.]

That way you can close it back up and it's less likely to spill. It won't spoil as quickly, either.

[ananym]

[ alucard takes it curiously, turning it around in his hands. ]

I see. This is an interesting invention. How is it disposed later?

[dispassioned]

[Actually, come to think of it, he doesn’t actually know how trash is disposed of here.]

Well, back on Earth it gets thrown in the garbage or recycled. Preferably, recycled. Here in space, though…I’m not sure. Those little cleaning bots take care of everything.

[ananym]

Hm.

[ alucard is not sure how he feels about the convenience, but he can't complain. ]

It's quite a charmed life to live.

sim room

[heyciri]

( In ways this has been a favourite place over the last weeks, waiting for everyone else to find the orb and return; she doesn't question that they'll find it. Spanning years, the crew always has.

Her mind's distracted, thinking what she'll run through, what she'll take as backdrop or challenge or whatever she'll end up with today, walking in with the distracted air of someone expecting anything else. Emptiness. Blank slates.

She finds neither. This is a place she does not know, but that's not strange, not alarming. It's someone else having activated the room, running their own simulation. Memory? Preset? Hard for her to say. She wanders quietly through it, holding her sword (metal, plain, serviceable) at her hip. Wanders the limited space that feels so much more limitless when filled in, catches sight of: bright hair, sitting, a stone. Grave stone? Might be, even out here, like this.

Ciri calls out, waving a hand: )

Sorry, I didn't know the room was in use. Do you want a "Do Not Disturb" sign out on the door? I can write one up for you.

( Not familiar as a face, only as an impression of people who've been here, around station, on platform for teleportation. Funny how there's only so many of them in a shared space, and still, so few of them really know each other. Just grow used to living around, navigating through, those shared spaces. )

[ananym]

[ what is a do no disturb sign. alucard sighs, standing up and lightly dusting his black pants. ]

Is that customary? My apologies.

[heyciri]

( she shakes her head the once, then shrugs her shoulders. )

Not customary, but I've done it before. For different reasons. ( A pause. ) Did you want to be alone?

[ananym]

[ alucard considers this before shaking his head. ]

I was alone.

[ it felt like a faint echo of his words to his father. I was alone before. and here he was, alone again. ]

I was merely paying my respects.

[heyciri]

( ciri gives him a slow nod, eyes drifting toward the stone. she hesitates a moment before asking: )

Family? Friend?

[ananym]

[ hm. how to define belmont. ]

He helped me. He was one of the few who ever did.

[heyciri]

( her nod to this, and the decision on her part to affix a label, to understand through her lens: )

A friend then. What was their name?

[ananym]

Belmont. Trevor Belmont.

Last son of the Belmont Clan.

[heyciri]

Oh. What... happened?

( hesitating to ask, for a moment, then figuring he can not answer or tell her easily enough to stop asking irrelevant things. )

[ananym]

He fought Death and won. But he did not survive the battle.

He was always . . . stubborn that way.

[heyciri]

Not dying before death died first, huh?

( a small smile. she feels like the witchers, in ways, are like that. knows that once she believed her grandmother must be like that. reality taught otherwise.

death isn't so easily defeated. )

I'm sorry you lost him.

[ananym]

[ alucard smiles wryly. ]

He was always a contrary bastard.

We all lost him. The world is paler for it.

[heyciri]

Mm. I understand how that can feel.

( losing someone, and having that change something about the world in a permanent way. )

Do... ( another pause, studying the grave, understanding it a bit better now. looking to the one who crafted this sim, and asking the rude question: ) Is it what you most wanted changed?

( regrets. the span of them is so different across the crew, past and present. )

[ananym]

[ alucard looks away for a moment. ]

I do not know. I feel he would be most cross with me to even attempt this. That there are more deserving people than he.

And yet.

[ he finds himself leaving it at that. ]

[heyciri]

( she looks away from him, so he doesn't have to feel stared at as he speaks. she didn't really expect an answer. finds it surprising he offered one at all. the good kind, at least... and it sounds honest. )

He can kick your arse later for it. Deserving or not, we only know who we care for. Kind of a thing for everyone.

[ananym]

[ probably. or at least try to. ]

It is still a dangerous thing we are doing. Dynasties have fallen for less than a wish.

[heyciri]

Were you here for when we were sent to the other Ximilia? The Olivia one?

[ananym]

I'm afraid not.

[heyciri]

Let's just say persisting long enough that we get the orbs to deliver is a challenge that took the last crew by surprise. So yeah. More dangerous than most know, going up against that much chaos, whatever we want.