abraxaslogs | [closed] that's rough buddy

Entry tags:

[closed] that's rough buddy

Who: Alucard and Geralt
WHAT:Aftermath of tunnel sharing and noticing certain comings and goings
WHERE: Dungeon cell
WHEN: The dead middle of the night
NOTES: Some mild CW for canon typical gore and grossness on Alucard's end.

--Ugh.

[The complaint is a whisper as Alucard wakes yet again from a new and shitty nightmare. He's added onto the usual rotation since the time spent in the fucking tunnels, hallucinating the worst things from his brain and that of others. There aren't just impaled corpses, rotting bodies looming over him in their final moments, and those he trusted taking his life and destroying his home. There's all of that plus small children running after their mother (thank you Geralt), upsetting badger shaped mascots (Kay, because that has been sticking with him for a while now), and too many other things for him to process.

All of it has made sleep even more unpleasant. Worse for sharing a small space with two others and not wanting to draw attention to himself.

So far as Alucard can tell though, both of his cellmates are asleep. No reason he can't sit up and at least take a few deep breaths. Not a soul is going to notice.]

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You're twenty?

[ Whatever number Geralt was anticipating, it was not the most obvious one. He'd thought, based on Alucard's hedging, that perhaps the vampire was somehow younger than he appeared—that maybe his kind, in his world, matured far more rapidly.

But apparently, Alucard is exactly as he looks. Which, in retrospect, says more about Geralt's world that he finds this startling.

He tilts his head. ] I'd ask how old you think I am in turn, but I imagine I'd only be setting myself up.

[ He's been accused of being old and cranky more than enough, whether they realize his age or not. ]

Edited 2021-06-29 02:00 (UTC)

Yes.

[Oh, he was assuming centuries then. It almost makes the dhampir laugh, but maybe this makes it easier. Sypha called him out on acting his age in the past, and in spite of other circumstances, the dhampir would admit that there are times she hasn't been wrong.]

I will politely decline to guess that way one of us will still have their dignity.

[it isn't alucard]

[ A snort follows that comment. Given everything they've very unwillingly shared, Alucard holds the unique position of...actually knowing him. It's a position few possess. He can appreciate the vampire's discretion.

At least the brief detour in conversation has served to ease the irritation had been building. However long that might last.

Which leads him back to where they'd left off. ]

Still interested?

I am.

[Alucard has accepted that circumstances are not in their favor. Anything that helps to pass the time, anything that helps to replicate sleep without being sleep is welcome.]

[ He slides a glance at the others around them before returning to the vampire. Fine. First he's teaching Kay how to not get lost in dark caves; now he's doing this. He'd ask how he got here, but he's not certain he wants to know the answer.

As long as he doesn't need to pass the lesson onto Majima. That one? Probably a lost cause.

He lays back down, propping his foot back up. ]

Close your eyes. Count your breaths. And if you have any strange fucking thoughts, let it happen.

[At least one answer is because you're annoyed and sleeping badly, Geralt.

But at least Alucard is good at taking direction. He walks back over to his bed and sits himself on the edge of it, hands resting in his lap. He closes his eyes, but isn't concentrating. Yet.]

Even if they veer off into the wildlands?

[He doesn't have to say more, Geralt's seen the worst of it.]

Mm-hmm. Just go back to counting.

[ He squints at Alucard from where he's on the bed, as if to see if the vampire is taking in the advice. Is it coming? Can he finally have some peace? He's frankly beginning to grow envious of the heavy sleepers down here.

Not that he hasn't had to sleep through his share of rowdy nights. Inn rooms above a village tavern are hardly silent on all days. But at least those tend to come with the option of him simply hopping out the window and taking off with Roach if he wishes.

(He really misses his horse.) ]

And to leave you alone if it all goes to shit. [The conclusion's clear.] Apologies for waking you.

[It seems the very least that the dhampir can offer. If this doesn't work, he'll have to just sit silently until the next opportunity to leave arrives, be it via Hector or the single hour they're allowed outside.

One.

Two.

Three and this is all stupid, isn't it? Sitting here counting like that's going to fix anything.

Four.

Five.

Sixseveneight, he can't be still anymore. This is madness, the counting only makes it worse. What is he a fairy story about vampires that count grains of sand until the sun rises in the east?

Okay, no. Try again.

One. This requires practice.]

[ Geralt only offers a vague noise in return. Alucard said it, not him, but yeah. That's the grand idea. Besides, the vampire will get the hang of it. Maybe. Or at least be still long enough for Geralt to catch some much needed shut eye.

Which he does, somehow. There's a reason Geralt's been especially frustrated about having his night interrupted: lately, it's been rare to close his eyes and find himself rested the next day. He wakes often with the acrid smell of smoke and fire in his nose, a ghost of old scars, a thousand reminders of what he left behind. Of who he left behind. Not by choice, he wants to say, and yet that isn't entirely true, is it? Not always, not at first. Perhaps that's what gnaws at him the most.

Possibly by sheer virtue of how fucking clear Geralt's made it he's not here to discuss a single word about himself, no one in his cell has really asked, whether they've noticed or not. Or brought it up explicitly. That's how he wants to keep it—but it's only a matter of time before someone's attention is finally caught by his restless sleep. ]

[By morning, Alucard's no better rested, but at least in trying to get the hang of meditation, he has had hours pass by with little notice. That has to count for something, although Alucard isn't sure what it counts for, precisely.

The thing that finally pulls him from his own thoughts is the approach of the guards, making it clear that it is some sort of time of day and you don't get to nap through your imprisonment. Alucard's seen this one down here a few times before, and those still resting tend to get his ire.

--Shit.

There's going to be guilt about waking Geralt later. But that's later, and the man already has a leg that's healing. The dhampir lets out a very, very unhappy noise about feeling compelled to do what is objectively the right thing in this situation, and stands to rouse Geralt before someone else does.

He shakes the good leg. If the dhampir gets kicked, well, he can react quickly enough to that.]

[ Unfortunate, that Geralt's instinct is not actually to kick. Instead, he bolts upright, snatching the hand that's grabbed him without thinking and jerking forward. His grip around the vampire's wrist is unrelenting -- though nowhere near as crushing as it would've been had he been at full strength.

There's a split second where his eyes are a little wild, and a little too bright -- but whether Alucard shoves him off or not, he almost immediately lets the vampire go. His gaze darts left towards the guards, uncertain if they'll interfere, before turning back. The first emotion that rises in him is annoyance (at himself, at Alucard for startling him awake), and then. ]

Fuck. [ He squints. ] Sorry.

[It is for the better that neither of them are as they should be. Alucard's reaction time would have been far faster. Probably would have gotten one or both of them thrown against the wall, a whirlwind contained in a tiny, tiny room.

The furious hiss that happens would have always been one of the results though. Alucard's free hand is defensive, quick to shove at Geralt's chest and if he scratches anything in the attempt, there will be no regrets on Alucard's side of the equation. This is what fair play looks like.

Geralt at least stops before things escalate. For a moment longer, Alucard allows his fangs to remain retracted (it isn't a power if it's a part of your bone structure!) before he straightens up. Eyes ahead, the guards banging on the bars of the cell next door.]

Are you, hunter?

[ My, what big teeth.

Geralt's eyes narrow further. He'd clearly been out of it when he struck. He's apologized. And he has a sharp scratch over his collarbone in retaliation. As far as he's concerned, the incident ends there. Alucard trying to provoke him further goes wholly unappreciated. If there's one thing he has no time for (and the list of things he has no time for is extremely long), it's people prodding him for the sake of a reaction. ]

I don't suggest you change my mind.

[ Where he might've offered to take a look at Alucard's hand, he now says nothing of it. If the vampire needs it wrapped, he can sort that out on his own. ]

[Alucard doesn't respond. The guards are staring into the cell, and so he casts his eyes downward.

'Looks like they took to beating the shit out of each other for us. That seems unfair,' says the one who takes special delight in waking up those who aren't already.

'Ah, well, we got a few deep sleepers here,' comes the response from the guard working with the first, eyes casting further down the corridor.

Alucard keeps himself quiet until they're out of view, then shakes out his left hand. It hurts but nothing's broken. That'll have to be enough for now.

There's not enough room to flop dramatically down onto his awful little bed, so he resumes his spot in the far corner, as away from everyone as he can manage.]

Go back to sleep then. They're good at heralding their approach.

[ His expression doesn't change, though he doesn't move, either. When Alucard moves away, Geralt only sighs. He's certain Majima wants nothing to do with either of them. Can't say he blames the man.

Really, it's not his intention to pick a fight with Alucard because that's not what he does. Pick fights, that is. He either has a target or he doesn't, and Alucard simply isn't one. Not here and now, at least. But he also knows Alucard is wary of him, if not outright mistrustful, and occasionally has the temperament of an eighteen year old despite his usual demeanor.

Going back to sleep's not happening. He sits on the bed instead, head tipped back against the wall. His flash of irritation earlier aside, he does...feel bad. Mostly because he knows exactly why Alucard went to wake him in the first place. ]

Nothing broke?

Contusions in a few places, bruising otherwise. It was my non-dominant hand.

[The response is short, but the there's more a touch of clinical to it than anything else. Alucard's mother was who she was, and the dhampir may not be a medical expert, but he knows a few things beyond the basics.]

Better that neither of us have our natural abilities at the moment.

[ A yes or no is all Geralt was anticipating, so the excess detail gets a raised eyebrow as he files it away. It'll heal is what he's hearing, so he puts it out of his mind.

He gives a quiet snort. ] If I truly meant to kill you, it'd not be from my sleep.

[ It bothers him, that he'd been so easily startled. It's not like he hasn't slept with company before, nor been woken abruptly -- Jaskier sure as hell isn't polite when it comes to getting the Witcher up in the middle of the night for whatever he's deemed an incoming threat -- but the sheer tension that comes from this place, the constant presence of the guards, his cellmates, it makes it hard for him to relax. ]

[Funny how that's a comfort.

Alucard lets his shoulders slack just a hair. A small part of him, the one not caught up in paranoia and stupidity knows that if an actual vampire hunter meant to have his head, it'd have happened already. There's more art to the hunt in those kinds of families. They'd not stoop to dirty tricks and promises of false friendship like what happened back in the castle, matters would be more so straight forward.

So he gives an inch.]

I had a close call with hunters prior to being here. Concerns for my safety have a tendency to run away with me at the moment. It's...[He breathes out. Nothing personal isn't the right word.] I'd think less of you professionally if you plucked such low hanging fruit.

[ In truth, Geralt's surprised to hear it. Not that Alucard had a close call, but that he deems it a reason for his wariness. He figures a vampire hardly needs a close call to find a monster hunter a threat. It piques his curiosity suddenly. ]

You weren't concerned about us before?

[ It's easier to say us; to Alucard, he knows, the difference between his hunters and a Witcher is negligible. They were all created to kill his kind.

He's not apologizing for what he is. Not really here to explain himself, either. But he won't begrudge Alucard his suspicions. ]

Not in the same way, no.

[Before, Geralt was just another person to generally be cautious about and with. Knowing the profession added a new scope of danger, because even if the his world's vampires are different from Alucard's, a hunter that specializes in monsters is still a hunter that specializes in monsters. He'd sooner fight Trevor again with the Belmont furious about what was done in his and Sypha's absence. Trevor he can predict.

So there. Vulnerability and honesty accomplished, for whatever it is worth.]

And at least you don't hide it.

[The implications running deep there, Alucard refusing to touch them.]

[ The implications are not difficult to pull apart. For awhile, he's quiet: not ignoring it, just considering what he wants to say. If not for the circumstances of their imprisonment, he knows they'd either have never crossed paths or would've known to circle each other. A contract on a vampire of Alucard's calibre is akin to a contract on a dragon: the risk is almost never worth the coin on offer. He'd have likely steered clear. Chosen a more practical hunt.

It's only here that he's gotten to know the vampire. He can acknowledge he doesn't dislike what's there. Alucard's flair for drama aside (and isn't Geralt long used to that), he seems largely interested in keeping to himself.

Besides. Geralt does owe him, somewhat, for the tunnels. ]

I'm not asking you to trust me. And I have no promises of reassurance I care to make. But I can tell you I have better concerns than a vampire whose largest act of menace has been chronic pacing.

Edited 2021-07-06 00:46 (UTC)

[Alucard's not sure what to make of the silence. Geralt's inclined to them, just as Alucard is, and for a long time the dhampir considered it a quiet curtesy in whatever this...situation is. Then it became too much to deal with and--

--fuck.

For the very first time, Alucard laughs. It is low and weak, seeming to forget what the noise even sounds like, but it is there. Chronic pacing indeed.]

Meditation hasn't exactly helped, but it has offered a temporary stop. [They all have bigger concerns, don't they?]

Let me know when you're expected to haul books for another. [Some concerns are shared.]

[ His eyebrow quirks: vague amusement, which is rare enough from him as it is. At the end of the day, as much as he'd prefer to be not here, his present company could be a hell of a lot more...concerning. If the worse thing they've done is irritate him, he can accept that. ]

You mean the bard? [ He hums. Jaskier's been doing his own research, which Geralt's left him to. Given Jaskier rarely invites scrutiny -- the type of attention he garners is not the sort that labels him a threat -- he's assumed more can be done without his presence.

But if there's something Alucard wants, he can ask. There are few here he's been willing to share details with. Desperate situations lead people to make alliances with their captors more often than not. He senses that's not the case from Alucard, though. ] What do you want to know?

I meant if you wanted reading recommendations.

[But if Geralt's not concerned on that front, Alucard is hardly going to push it. There is a shrug, small and a little bit more at east for the whole outburst, all things considered.]

But I suppose the only question that matters is if you trust him or not.

[ Oh. Mm. His head tilts. ] I do.

[ He's acknowledged that much to Alucard once, and it hasn't changed. He's more curious about Hector: the man who keeps coming by, day after day, and yet Alucard has explicitly expressed suspicions about despite going along with him nonetheless.

Whatever's between them, he knows better than to lean on a single man's word no matter how much he's...acquainted with Alucard. Worth keeping in mind, though. Not a lot of friends to make in a place like this. ]

You've a leg up.

[And Alucard has more to think on. There's no doubt in his mind that to break out of this place, one will need allies, and quite frankly, it's going to take more than Hector.

He doesn't like having to put faith in others these days. All the same, he offers the name of a book, and then:]

It has a red leather spine with silver lettering. I'll leave a reading list within it that's proven useful so far, for when either you or he have the next opportunity to go through the library.

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[closed] that's rough buddy

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