[Alucard manages to shake his head no. One hand very shakily manages to rest on top of the table, and instantly his nails dig into the wood. His legs wobble, making it clear that standing is so very much just not happening right now.
However, in the heady rush that has yet to calm down, there's one thing that becomes clear. To be inside is to feel crushed by walls, crushed by recollection, squeezed until there's nothing left to squeeze. His other hand reaches out for Geralt.]
Outside. Please.
[He'd like points for managing politeness, at any rate.]
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However, in the heady rush that has yet to calm down, there's one thing that becomes clear. To be inside is to feel crushed by walls, crushed by recollection, squeezed until there's nothing left to squeeze. His other hand reaches out for Geralt.]
Outside. Please.
[He'd like points for managing politeness, at any rate.]