abraxaslogs | [closed]

[He does want to ask about the corset. But later, perhaps, or another day. The office's double duty as a costume workshop is not for the dhampir to comment on - only to observe and ask questions about the processes going on within instead.]

I've been getting used to it, as years pass. [A small, rueful little noise escapes his throat, offering an honest appraisal of himself.] Two years ago, I wouldn't have even thought about the possibility. Thorne dragged me from Wallachia at a very, very bad time in my life.

[Alucard leans back in his seat, arms sliding off either side of the chair he is in with a little less grace than he usually carries himself with. When he speaks, it is to Hilda, but every so often, his eyes move from her to a spot on the wall just beside her. Sometimes meeting the faces of others is difficult.]

There's a part one and a part two to this, and they're impossible to separate. One doesn't happen without the other. [His tone shifts slightly. He's given this part before. It isn't a story exactly, but the telling of it has taken on it's own sort of quality that lets the dhampir separate the emotions from the facts of what happened.] My vampirism comes from my father. My mother was human, and a skilled doctor in an age where medicine was sorely behind. For her advancements, the church of the area where we lived branded her a heretic and burned her alive. Neither myself or my father were capable of stopping the proceedings.

[Fact one, said. There's a long exhale.] My father, Dracula, never did anything by halves. He was centuries old, and small minded humans destroyed the one thing he cared about most. In his opinion, because no one had even tried to stop it, the whole of Wallachia should be erased from the map, every trace of humanity on it removed from the land. He gave the people of Wallachia a year to do so. I...disagreed with murdering an entire country. The individuals responsible? Understandable. But it was unacceptable to take it to the next level. It would also horrify my mother that such an action was carried out in her name.

We had a disagreement. We fought, I fled to recover. He summoned demons and gathered vampire generals to wage his war, and it became clear that the only way to stop his plans was to stop him.

[He can trust Hilda to figure out the plan without needing to say it.] I had help from a skilled magic wielder and a born monster hunter. We managed an alliance, killed my father, and managed to prevent the destruction of an entire country. In my grief, I needed time alone, not realizing I needed companionship instead.

That's the first part of it.

[Finished, his eyes meet Hilda's fully. There's regret in them, but not for the actions taken. Only that it was what was demanded.]

[ Hilda would have been absolutely lying if she said that she had been hoping Alucard would ask about for more details about corset. She had worked terribly hard on it, made several prototypes in fact when the porcelain and resin hadn't cooperated in the way she had hoped the first several times. But if there's one thing she's getting better at it's when to be a brat and when not to be.

Quietly she puts down the string of beads she's working on before leaning back in her seat. She isn't sure what to expect when he begins his tale, but she gives him a small, encouraging smile all the same to show that she appreciates him trusting her enough for this. It doesn't escape her for a moment what it means.

Were it not coming from Alucard's mouth, Hilda would swear that it was a tale spun out of a fairytale if only for the vampires and demons. Everything else though sounds familiar; people loved to gossip and the people in Fodlan were no exception. Word of people killing their parents for a myriad of reasons always ended up floating through the grapevine. And while she didn't know anyone personally in Alucard's position, the details quickly fall into place in her mind.

She doesn't want to speak the fact that he had committed patricide aloud though if he doesn't want to. As she sits with that fact, no judgement swells up inside her as she returns his gaze. Instead, there's understanding there and empathy. He had to do it and for that she can't fault him for that. A younger her might have. But she's been through enough of a war where certain decisions had to be made even if they aren't pleasant ones. ]

[Alucard appreciates that Hilda doesn't ask questions or even pull a face when he digs into the harder parts of what happened. He wants to ask about the corset she's working on and about the stage craft, but that may be for later. Or to break tension.

The harder part is the next bit.]

I didn't have a way to contact my former companions, and in retrospect, being alone in the giant castle where I killed my father was in fact a terrible idea. I did not have such clarity of thought. All I knew was that if my father could let the world in through my mother, I should be able to do the same. And I did, when two travelers came to my doors wanting to deal with a vampire problem in their home country. It was difficult not to feel empathy for their situation, and the company was welcome.

[There is a pause from Alucard as he considers the next bit. He's managed a statement of facts about it before, but this is the first time he's told everything in such a linear fashion. Everything else had come out in fits and starts. Conversations or someone walking into bad memories when the Singularity felt like it. Doing it from start to finish is harder.

His eyes fall away from Hilda, and they focus on the corset. Counting the stitches he can see, trying to center himself on that.]

I thought the romantic feelings were mutal after a few weeks when a situation grew very intimate. As someone dealing with all the guilt from recent events, that I could have anyone show that kind of affection towards me was remarkable. For it to be two people felt like a rarity.

[Hilda can probably guess where this ends.]

They instead restrained me and tried to kill me between acts, because they felt they were being denied access to things that would have helped their home. So better to do away with me and take what they could from the castle. I managed to save mysef only because the sword I have back home is something I have a telepathic link with.

[The end isn't a joke. It isn't a way to kill tension. It is only honesty.] In a fit of emotional overload, I then proceeded to channel the worst impulses of my father and impale their corpses beside the front door.

Thorne summoned me not too long after. You can imagine how well I took to being in a small cell with Geralt, a monster hunter of all people.

[And that's it. Alucard's body snaps suddenly, tension he hadn't realized was building now gone. The whole of the story is done.]

[ As he launches into the next part of his tale, Hilda's expression shifts. The furrow between her brow deepens because his assumption is correct. She can see where this is going.

And while her heart simultaneously aches for Alucard and the hurt and horrors that he's experienced, a bubble of discomfort worms its way into the pit of her stomach as he recounts what he did to the person who had wronged him. Fear teeters at the edges of that as her gaze flits from his face towards his hands, trying to imagine those delicate, slender fingers capable of beautiful creation bathed in somebody else's blood inside. Her brain has trouble reconciling the fact that the Alucard she's known had come from that. But everyone's lived through something, haven't they?

It reminds her again that everyone has the propensity to do awful things if pushed in that direction, and that trust is a delicate, precious thing. Guilt joins the myriad of feelings she has swirling inside of her. Back in the feywilds she had teased him about being nervous, and she had no idea that this had been the reason. Rationally she knows she couldn't have guessed, but that doesn't stop her from feeling awful about it. She looks up just in time to see that his body that had been ramrod straight before is now slumped. Spent. Whatever fear or discomfort she had felt before is pushed aside because a friend is in need. Hilda is by his side in a flash, kneeling on the floor beside his chair to gently take his hands in hers if he'll allow it. ]

...I'm sorry. [ An apology seems apt. For what though she can't say. Perhaps for everything he had been through, for the people who had broken his trust and hadn't apologized for it. For her own callous teasing. Her gaze stays trained on his hands before they flit back up to him full again of worry. Pieces of things he had told her before begin to fall into place, creating a fuller picture than before. ] Thank you for telling me. I can't imagine that any of that was easy to live through let alone to tell. I can't stand the thought of them doing that to you - your father and that person.

I wish - [ She stops short, realizing how childish and empty it may sound despite her genuine intent behind it. A fierce desire to protect him suddenly rears her head even though she doubts her own ability to do it effectively. ] I wish that you never had to go through anything like that. You deserved better, Alucard.

Edited (last one i swear omf) 2023-07-08 19:45 (UTC)

[Alucard's gotten used to the inital reaction of what do I say to any of this? and I'm sorry. He's been selective with who he tells because he doesn't want pity or empathy about what happened. There's only exhaustion at the tale now. Anger sometimes, but that was reserved for Sypha and Trevor, and he's been through the whole story with one of them already. They've found some sort of balance with that anger.

There's a near by chair that Alucard extends a leg towards, hooking his foot around it and dragging it over so Hilda can at least sit. Only then does he take her hands as offered, grip delicate to afford her the chance to move should she take it.]

It's been two years. Distance and having projects has helped. [There's an eye cast around the room. Working on the Hall had been therapy in it's own way. Affording him time and space to work through things, even if it just meant hammering something loudly and badly for a while.

There's a very small, awkward laugh here. Mood killer he is, he's going to try.]

So you can imagine why kissing is a nightmare in my head. I should be thanking you for helping with a little step forward.

[ When he pulls the other chair over, Hilda rises to perch at the very edge of it before grasping his hands with hers. She can't relate to anything he's gone through, can't even begin to imagine the turmoil and work that had gone into him getting to where he is now.

But now that she knows all of this, it's hard for her not to wonder if they would still be friends if they had met at the very beginning of it all. Would she only have to grapple with this level of discomfort? Would they have been friends at all? Regardless of what those outcomes might have been, she can't help but think that she's glad that being brought here at least brought him that opportunity to heal.

Hilda is pulled from the what-if's when she recognizes that Alucard is trying to bring some levity to the situation. Levity she can do. She gives him a fierce squeeze of his hand. ]

Here I thought you were going to tell me you were just being nice to me when I kissed you on the cheek and that this was a roundabout way of telling me you never wanted to see me again.

Edited 2023-07-09 20:48 (UTC)

[The force of Hilda's hand probably isn't meant to act as a means for the dhampir to center himself. It happens all the same, and an awkward, unsteady laugh follows.]

That'd be too much and too petty, even for me when I'm in those kinds of moods. [He and Jaskier were perfectly matched when it came to pettiness, as they had learned.] More...if I can trust you in managing this place, then I can trust you with more emotionally fragile things. [Maybe phrasing things like this is not ideal. ALucard knows it probably feels strange to hear everything he's just shared and then label it emotionally fragile. Minimizing. But better that than nothing at all.]

You are a very good friend.

You, petty?

[ Laughter enters her expression, lightening some of the mood even further. When she had first crossed paths with Alucard all those months ago, the last thing she would have expected from him was a propensity for pettiness. He didn't seem the type to bother with pettiness. Fashion, sure but pettiness? Not that she's complaining; it only serves to endear him to her more than he already has.

The label on his history doesn't go unnoticed and as awful as it is to think, she's used to that to some degree. Unsurprisingly, none of her friends had the healthiest coping mechanisms. War aside, everyone had lived through something. Well, most people; she didn't exactly count herself among that. But before she can gently chide him for being dismissive of his trauma the f-bomb is dropped.

At first her brain doesn't process the word. There's a little giggle, the kind that usually precedes an, 'Aw shucks' before her eyes blow wide, going from their clasped hands up to Alucard's face. A stretch of silence follows it as if she's playing it back in her mind. The only sign of life that seems to be present unfortunately is the occasional blink and the slow bloom of pink on her cheeks. ]

Yes, me. Petty. Jaskier and I had an especially glowing moment of it back when I started working on Old Public Hall. Before your time, of course.

[He was in a only slightly better state then, managing his emotions but not feeling especially trusting. Jaskier was one of the few people who had won him over, and working on the Hall had cemented their friendship. Especially in the beginning, when they were choosing who to take money from to get the Hall operational.

Alucard isn't sure what he expected. Hilda's been trying to get him to say the f-word for so long that he had forgotten he was witholding it just for fun. If there was ever a moment for sincerity though, it was in this moment and--

--Okay now there are hands on his face. Is he an idiot sandwich? This is.

Deeply silly, and really the ideal way to handle any of this.

He can't tilt his head, so he has to inflect it in his voice.]

...Hilda?

[ Her brain faintly registers what is probably a hilarious, anecdotal story about Alucard and Jaskier being petty either towards one another or at other parties that she definitely wants to hear. Unfortunately that will have to come at a different time because Hilda's brain is practically whirring and overheating trying to process the fact that Alucard has called her a friend. Aloud. ]

Did you really just call me a friend?

[ Her eyes are going to start misting in a moment as she holds his face there. ]

You really think we're friends?

[ Yup, definitely going to use that word multiple times as much as she possibly can. ]

[He's never getting his face back, is he?

That's...probably fine. Alucard blinks, slowly, as if that might help Hilda in any way, shape, or form. It probably won't.]

Yes? [Duh?] You wouldn't have heard a fraction of what I just said if I did not consider it so.

[ Nope, sorry. Can't be done. It's not in the stars today and he has fully relinquished the rights to his face after calling her his friend out loud. ]

No, I know - [ Or rather, rationally she knows. But her brain is still tripping over him thinking that they're actually friends despite having her teased him for at least a month now. Most of the time, someone calling her a friend doesn't usually elicit such shock or genuine misty-eyes.

It's a curious thing as to why then Alucard doing so is making her react the way she is. Maybe it's because she hasn't really gotten over Petra and Marianne leaving yet. Or maybe it's because the friend from home that she has here has made it very clear to her (at least in her mind) that he didn't want anything to do with her anymore.

Or maybe, and this is probably the most likely possibility, that despite everything that Alucard had gone through, he still has the propensity to trust people. One of those people being her.

The threat of tears suddenly seems more real and she gives him a giant sniffle and her lower lip trembles slightly. ]

You caught me off guard! I just wasn't expecting it after all of that.

[Right, okay. This is fine. Alucard is going to just very gently place his hands to Hilda's wrists to see if they'll be redirected. Even slightly. What if he needs to eat?

Or try to prevent any soggy tears, it seems. There's a very rude part of the dhampir that wants to downplay tension. Why are you the one that's crying? will not go over as well as he'd like, so Alucard doesn't make the joke. It is tempting though.]

I think it's what is known as an opportune moment. [Moreover:] It is also meant genuinely.

[ She could always feed him? Friends do that for each other right? And if he asked, she'd do it without too much teasing.

The cool touch of his fingers on her hands brings about some realization and her hands slowly slip from his face to hover just about her lap.

A joke would ave probably helped distract from the tears that are still slowly forming. Although, the 'opportune moment' bit does get her to roll her eyes slightly so that at least stops their formation. It's met with a half-hearted indignant sniff that is really more for the dramatics than anything else. ]

I didn't realize that your appreciation of the arts also extended to dramatic behaviour, Alucard. I should have known. [ The corners of her lips twitch. ] After all, we're friends. And friends that are dramatic together, usually stay together.

[ Usually. It's thought without too much bitterness. A little more cheekiness returns to her expression than before. ]

Does this mean I get to give you a nickname? Not that I can think of one right off the top of my head right now, but you know. In the future.

[Hilda, he's more likely to make you dinner at this point.

With his face regained, Alucard moves so that his hands are still holding onto Hilda's. It seems as if that gesture helped to ground her, and she may need more of it yet. The eyeroll is an even better sign. They're moving away from the initial aftermath of the nonsense and returning to familiar grooves.]

Also, I'm friends with Jaskier. That also speaks volumes.

[Drama calls to drama. Alucard's just quiet about it until he isn't.]

You could simply call me Adrian. Alucard has only ever been an alias assigned to me by my fellow countrymen. [And before she asks:] It's my father's name, Dracula. But backwards, signifying an opposite. It is not an especially clever nickname.

[ A meal cooked by a fashionable, dashing dhampir? If someone has to be on the receiving end, it may as well be her.

There's a breathy laugh from her at the mention of Jaskier. That one should have been a bit of a given so that one is on her.]

Okay fine, I admit that you got me there. But just being friends with Jaskier doesn't mean that someone has a flair for the dramatics. He's friends with Geralt too. [ Her eyes shine with amusement. ] But maybe that's just a side of him I haven't seen.

[ The last thing Hilda had expected in reply to her joke is a name, let alone his real name. The same bewildered look from before appears on her face again - but this time isn't quite as dramatic of a reaction as its predecessor. ]

Adrian. [ Her features soften into something fond as her fingers quietly intertwine with his. ] I know you may have chosen Alucard but, Adrian suits you.

[Just don't call it a date and it'll be amazing.]

No, I think Geralt is just Geralt. He does have his funny moments though. They're just drier than the desert.

[They're going to just sit like this for a while, it seems. That's actually fine so far as the dhampir is concerned. He's in a space that he trusts and with someone he trusts. What more can one ask for at this point?]

Thank you. A few people know it, including Jaskier, so consider it a small secret.

[ No calling it a date, gotcha. Just a meal between two pals. A couple of colleagues. Friends even. ]

Humour is humour I suppose.

[ She says it affectionately enough. Despite not knowing the man very well (aside from clarifying that he is not, in fact, a werewolf), she gets the impression that he cares deeply for those closest to him. Having dry humour can easily be forgiven.

So long as Alucard doesn't show any signs of discomfort or pulls away, she'll continue to take the allowance that she's given. The mention of a secret sparks a childlike delight in her eyes. ]

Your secret is safe with me. [ And then - ] Unfortunately, I don't have any other secret names to share with you so...I'll just have to think of something else to share in return. Unless you want to take the opportunity to just ask me something you've been hoping to know?

[ There's an openness to her expression, one that she hopes reminds him about what she said during their time in the maze together. That she is, for the most part, an open book, happy to share whatever details of her life he might be curious about, if any.]

[Friends. Exactly.]

Most people don't have hidden names in the first place. [He knows it is weird. So be it.

To Hilda's offer, there is a pause. He doesn't want to intrude, but he also doesn't want to ignore Hilda's offer all together either]

I was going to ask about the corset you're working on, but that seems against the spirit of things. [They can talk about that any time.] Where did you learn to fight?

[ Hilda wouldn't call it weird. Her eyebrows wiggle goofily at him. ]

How do you know that though? Maybe people just haven't told you that they have secret names. [ The eyebrow wiggling can only go on for so long and she's dissolving into giggles soon after. ] And besides, when you think about it, secret names means mystery and intrigue!

[ The question about the corset immediately perks her up - but then he throws her for a loop. Enthusiasm turns to surprise. Thankfully she recovers gracefully. ]

You mean the Academy of Skull Splitting?

[ There's wry amusement in her expression as she nods to the silly little statement Jaskier had made about her. ]

I grew up learning how to, I guess. The Goneril's have always looked over the border between Fodlan - where I'm from - and Almyra, so my brother and I had to learn. [ 'Had' to is almost emphasized because it's clear that she hadn't wanted to. ] It didn't really make any sense to me, personally. I'm not going to be the head of the family or anything like Holst is but anyway - I was sent to the Officer's Academy when I was eighteen to learn more about warfare like Petra, Claude, and Sylvain. That's how we all know each other.

--Okay, fair point. [He'll take that criticism and just acknowledge that he and Jaskier are outliers who should not be counted. As one does, really.

He tries not to grin too much at the immediate response. Unfortunately, the opening is too good.]

Oh, it's a whole academy? Impressive.

[He means that part.]

Probably some of it was a sense of safety and being able to look after yourself. Am I correct in assuming that your sphere has entire universities for war and commanding armies?

[ There's a click of her tongue at his retort. ]

Adrian!

[ Now that she knows it, she fully intends on using it whenever they're in private together. An unimpressed look fixes onto her face, but it quickly dissolves, a clear sign that she doesn't actually mind the joke about the Academy. ...They did in fact learn about how to split skulls in a round about way. ]

There are always plenty of people around to take care of me. I never felt like I was in any danger.

[ From the way she says it so easily, it's clear that she's used this line of reasoning before in the past when something similar has been said. She gives a quick shake of her head. ]

The Academy was the only one. The Church of Seiros created it and runs it out of Garreg Mach Monetary; it was mostly for noble families to send their children to, but if a commoner is able to find a sponsor or the money to go, it's not unusual for them to end up there. Most of them have aspirations to become knights of noble households so they can provide for themselves and their families.

[The grin Hilda gets for the way she intones his name is a little more mischievous than the dhampir usually lets on. This is fine, and this is the price of having said the f-word. Alucard can in fact be a little bitch and now Hilda gets to enjoy that in full.]

Felt versus the reality of a situation are different.

[Alucard knows the feeling. His parents would never let anything happen to him. That did not mean he wasn't in danger from other vampires or from monster hunters. But this is about Hilda, not him, so he shuts up. Bites back a reaction at the mention of a church, because that's not his sphere. Not a religion he knows. Shut up, Adrian.]

I see. Is conflict really that frequent by your time?

[ He isn't wrong. And while she could argue with sound logic like that, it somehow doesn't seem the time or place to continue discouraging something that isn't even relevant now. A peace had settled back amongst the Summoned since their return, and she so badly wanted to remain blissfully convinced that it would remain as such.

Personally, she had never put too much weight into her belief of the Goddess and truthfully, she only cared enough when it served her. She would never be as devout as some of her friends, but thinking about them only brings a pang of homesickness that she doesn't want to dwell too long on.

She hums initially to his question. ]

If you define conflict as a threat of invasion, maybe. I grew up on the border of Fodlan and my family has always been tasked with taking care of Fodlan's Throat. [ It feels easier to illustrate it than speak to it so that's what she does. Reaching for her notebook, Hilda flips it to a blank page filled with other senseless doodles that are Alucard might recognize as runes. Beneath her pencil blooms the craggy, unforgiving mountains that had been the backdrop of her childhood. A European-esque castle is then drawn to the left of the mountains and a desert palace to the right. ] The other side of the mountain is a country called Almyra. We were the guards, I guess. Or are. There's another group of peoples that live to the north of Fodlan in a place called Sreng, but I don't know too much about them.

[ That was very much Sylvain's neck of the woods. Literally. House Gautier had always been too geographically far for Hilda to pay much mind to their similar struggles and challenges, but Holst had known all about them. He had to when he was the head of their house. ]

And if you define conflict as war then...no. [ There's something wry to her voice then. ] That's relatively new. In fact, we were still at the Academy when it started. [ There's a pause as she absently doodles trees around Goneril. When she does speak her voice remains remarkably light, not unlike someone resigned to the reality that they've lived for the last five years. ] I was brought here in the middle of one.

I'd consider threat of invasion a conflict, yes. [Borderlands, Alucard understands. For the past century Wallachia has counted as such for Europe and the Ottomans, with the latter trying to gain a foothold and bring Wallachia under the control of their empire. In truth, Alucard hopes it happens at this point. His father's shenanigans have caused so much disruption and heartache that any kind of stabilizing force would be better than chaos. With farms as impacted as they are by loss of life, they'll need food. Someone to organize reconstruction. All of it.

His eyes watch Hilda's drawings, quietly committing the map to memory. When he's spoken of Wallachia before he's never really bothered. No point, no one would need to understand. But Hilda's home seems to hinge on border based on her explanations.]

That's an unfortunate set of circumstances to be pulled away from. Did you have expectations of becoming involved in that before arriving here?

cw: patricide

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cw: sexual assault; impalement

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