synthneon | [ curse redux ] | ❝ in these cathedrals we roam, where shadow people dance. ❞

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[ curse redux ] | ❝ in these cathedrals we roam, where shadow people dance. ❞

(continued from here)
Waking up in the bed of his family's guardian angel was the one thing that Richard Belmont never thought would happen. Hell, he had expected her to turn down his rather backwards way of asking for help. He lay there, staring up at the ceiling above them. Part of him thought there would have been a feeling of regret. Maybe even a bit of sense that sleeping with someone from his past life would have been bad karma. Instead he was left with a sense of--well, Richard wouldn't call it peace. It was more akin to a feeling of being settled. It was similar to the feeling he had when he finally mastered Vampire Killer.

Not that there was much point dwelling on it. Richard had learned that if he dwelt on things for too long then his mind wound wander, and there would be several conclusions and rabbit holes he'd regret. He turned his head enough to look for a clock. They did have to be at the airport at the right time. Otherwise Mr. Dracula's Son himself would be upset.

Although, Richard did feel like making the bastard wait just a bit. Payback for all those early morning and late night lessons. Things that fit better around the dhampire's nocturnal nature.

He sighed and pulled himself to sit up as he scrubbed at his face. He certainly didn't regret it. That much he was certain of by now. Now he simply wondered what would be next. They'd go off, fight Dracula again, probably make Alucard even more unbearable to be with. Then... what?

Shit. That was exactly why he hated when his thoughts wandered too far.

"What time is it?"

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She'd held him, while he'd napped, in post coital bliss. Running her fingers through his hair, trailing her fingers over his skin, those little things that leave a sense memory. Something to keep, when all was said and done.

She'd considered many things, as they lay in the dark. Mostly whether she'd done him wrong, by giving in to her...well, needs really was the right word. She'd needed to touch him, to express her feelings, to give him everything she had. Because this might have been her only chance. So fuck it, no regrets. You can only ask her to be so virtuous.

She watched him, as he stirred, in that reluctant way, that humans have, when it's dark, and their bodies and minds don't agree, about getting back up. There was barely any light in the room, just what filtered through the door, from downstairs, but she could see him perfectly. All touseled hair and muscles, under rumpled sheets. It was everything she could do, not to pull him back down, and make him forget everything but them.

"Quarter after eight," she said instead. "Still early. We have time to see your family."

"Eight." Richard repeated, letting the time soak into his mind. "The flight leaves in a few hours. It's probably better if I don't see them anyways."

Not much was left of the once mighty Belmont bloodline. The direct descendants anyways. The attack on his home when he was thirteen did more than just bang up the house, cause a scar on his face, and changed the fate of Vampire Killer. It took away his family. Mother, father, younger sister. All that was left was a grandfather who was barely coherent most days. Richard simply hoped that his grandfather would be around long enough to see a Belmont take down Dracula.

Just like old times.

"Although, from what I'm told? That must be normal for me. There wasn't much of a family the first time around."

Yeah, don't think that didn't sting, the reminder of her failure. That was the problem with peace, it made her relax. And now, there was a last son again, which she swore to prevent.

"Nothing normal about it, love." Instead of reaching out to touch him, the way her impulses said she should, she sat up, slipping out of bed. The comfort would have been for her, at least in part, and she still didn't feel like she deserved it. She tugged on a chain, and soft orangey light filled the room. The light was for him.

Bet moved to her closet, naked, and started pulling out a large, heavy duty duffle bag. Her back had a scattering of old whip scars, from her time as a human. She'd never been self conscious about them, and largely had forgotten that Richard had never seen them. She just continued on, shoving her clothes aside, revealing the recessed wall, with several kinds of assault weapons safely stored and mounted.

"Did Dracula Jr ever teach you about guns?"

Well, it wasn't done as a reminder. It was more akin to attempting to grasp at any straws of similarity to his previous life. Alucard had mentioned that certain things may repeat. It was almost a game for him to figure out what had remained the same and what hadn't. Apparently the scar was the same, as was his stature. More or less. The times changed, diet changed, thus things like that changed.

Love. That wasn't a nickname he expected either.

Richard pushed himself to sit up further once the light filled the room. He winced, raising a hand slightly to the bright light. He had adjusted to the dark room rather quickly. Alucard always had things dimmed when it came to rooms. Apparently even dhampires were sensitive to the light.

"Dracula Jr. I like that." Richard chuckled, leaning over the foot of the bed. "I might call him that later."

He took note of the scars on her back. He had his own scars from Vampire Killer. No, not just the ancestral whip. All manners of weapons that Alucard insist he learn. Different whips, stakes, any basic rudimentary beast killing weapons.

"Not himself, no. But, he hired help." Richard shrugged. "Silver bullets, bullets with holy water made into them. Things like that."

She didn't think he did it on purpose. And were he anyone else she'd ever known, it would have rolled off, like water on a duck. But she cared about him, really and truly. Oh she'd cared for people before, helped and protected them, but she'd never... attached, there way she had with Trevor Belmont. She'd never fallen in love. Didn't think it was possible, really. Shows what she knew.

"Please do it where I can see his face," she says, casting a smile at him.

She came out with several hand guns, on the first trip, which she tucked in the duffel. There were pockets and straps inside. This duffle was made to transport guns. Lots of guns. Which she had.

"Good, so you can load up on some of my hardware. You ever use a flamethrower, love?"

Oh yes, the affectionate. She was English, born and bred, but it was often hard to tell by the accent. Generally, she came off very American, when she talked. So, was it literally her calling him her love? Or just a nickname? The answer was both simple and incredibly complicated, but still was a 'yes'.

"That will depend entirely on how sensitive you are to the sun." Richard paused then. "You're not... that sensitive, are you? Or do we need to carry you in a box?"

The later was meant as a joke.

He wasn't sure why she had so many guns. Was she a hunter of her own? Probably not. She only seemed to be the kind of person who would take out her fellow vampires if they got too close. Alucard was always stingy on the details. Would it be strange of him to ask her?

"I can't say that I've used a flamethrower before." A shrug. "Fire works but, generally, you don't see to many demons flickering around the landscape. Not as I presume they once did in... Wallachia, was it?"

Richard was never good at history. It was part of the reason why he thought the whole concept of him being reincarnated was absolute shit. Until he stood over the Belmont grave back in Wallachia. It was an eye opener.

He looked up over at her then, noting she still hadn't dressed. "Where are you from--exactly? Somehow, I doubt it was Wallachia."

"Wallachia, yeah. Demons aren't just wandering about, but there's plenty of other things bumming around in the dark. And vampires-," She actually took out what looked like a flamethrower, one handed, and a fuel tank in the other, and started to sort them into her bag. "-go up like campfire marshmallows. Like most things. And yeah, I might need a box, or a body bag, depending on when we're boarding."

She was not joking.

More guns. An assault rifle, a shot gun, found their place in the bag. Then she took out cases of ammunition, of varying sorts, and smaller pouches, that look meant to strap on the body. She began filling them as much as she could. It gave her time to think, before she answered his question. She needed it. She didn't often talk about herself, and it had been a while since someone bothered, in a sincere way.

"Everywhere is probably too evasive, for an answer, yeah? I'm English, but I've traveled the world. Was in the middle of it, when I found myself tangled up in that Dracula mess, the first time.

Not a place I was really supposed to be, considering it was off limits to my...breed of vampire, I guess we'll call it. Not that anyone noticed. We just have laws about territories, and Wallachia was forbidden to travel into, since it belonged to a powerful, independent, vampire who didn't negotiate with the Camarilla. Who knew it would be the real Dracula of legend?"

"You kill your own kind." Richard raised an eyebrow. Then again, maybe there was no problem with that. Vampires could be territorial. Although, even he had to admit he didn't know the inner workings of their politics. "I'm presuming the Camarilla isn't the same as Carmilla."

Richard stood then. He stretched slightly, rolling each shoulder to get his muscles moving. He wasn't used to being still anymore. He'd been running since he was thirteen, or training, or fighting the various forms of demons and undead.

"How the hell did you manage to walk into Wallachia?" He started to dress himself. "I'm surprised every vampire in the area didn't notice you were a different breed."

"Definitely different, but I wouldn't be surprised, if they took inspiration, without asking," she said with a sight laugh in her voice. "Humans kill humans, and vampires, as much as many of them want to pretend otherwise, are just altered humans. Mutants. Cursed. Whatever, I didn't suddenly become enamored of my kind, after being Embraced. I'm a survivor, and I'll so what needs doing. "

Well, that was a nice show. She let her attention blatantly follow him, as he stretched and dressed. A smile tugged at her lips, it was a nice moment.

"Maybe you've noticed, I don't exactly look like a walking corpse. The fangs retract, and..."

She moved back to him, and took one of his hands, placing his palm along her neck. She kept it there, breathing in a steady pattern, a pulse beating gently under his hand.

"I can play human. My skin is pink, I breathe, my heart beats. And I don't need to kill to when I feed. In fact, I can heal the wounds, with a lick. It's like I'm not even there."

"I have to admit that Alucard didn't detail the finer intricacies of vampire politics." Richard sighed. "He didn't think it seemed as important."

He paused the moment she took his hand and placed it along her neck. A pulse. Maybe he'd never understand how the bloody hell an undead could feel so life-like. It worked in saving her ass though. She could hide among the humans and the other vampires. It was a trait of her breed--or so he thought. Dracula's ilk could never hope to achieve this. Although it somehow worked if Alucard was born.

"It did cross my mind. Once or twice." He hesitated a moment. How many more questions could he ask before she became uncomfortable? Wasn't it strange to see a face she knew asking questions in hopes of answers that one would presume he knew?

"I'm presuming then you moved with the family." Richard chose to say instead. "We obviously didn't stay in Wallachia. Further back to Europe and then some of us even to America." Though his accent made it obvious he came from the British side of the family. "In fact, Vampire Killer had to be recovered by my grandfather. It... went off to another part of the family. Still a direct lineage of Belmonts, but, none of us could wield the whip properly anymore."

Not until that day when he grabbed the whip as a young boy. He flicked it to keep a monster at bay. It sprang to life. Power coursed through it. Vampire Killer had accepted him in that moment. Looking back at it? Richard wondered if it was because the whip recognized who he was before the family curse.

"I don't suppose anyone's told you the story of the whip." He leaned down to gently pick up the old weapon. The weapon that never seemed to age or deteriorate.

"I imagine Alucard finds himself on the outside looking in, with the Cainites. You're either a part of the system, or you're not. And basically, me telling you any of it, is a lethal crime."

She said that with all the love and affection a fly has for a swatter. But she moved on, not lingering on what annoyed her. She should get dressed.

"I kept tabs on the immediate family-" There's some careful for you. "-but I didn't shadow directly until the Belmonts moved more West. I liked the States, but I've kept this place a couple generations. This is... the place I wanted to be."

She opened a drawer, pulled a tank top over her head, without bothering with a bra. Jeans. Bet didn't really have an issue with chafing. She's looked at him over her shoulder, while she slid denim over her hips.

"Can't say I've had the full tale. Regale me?"

Well, he would be the immediate family and direct lineage. Richard gave an all familiar shrug. It would be strange leaving England for more than training. They would effectively be living in Wallachia for an unknown amount of time. Although, what choice did they have?

"Here, put your hand on it." Richard held the ancient weapon up. He decided not to comment on the lack of underwear.

The whip felt like any other whip. Tightly woven leather, worn, but still able to pack a fight. A few scuffs but in otherwise in mint condition. What stood out was the sense of it. It was as if someone else was in the room with them in. A kind presence, like hands enveloping both of theirs. A sense of protection and care.

Richard couldn't help but smile. There she was.

"Leon Belmont was the first Belmont in the region of Wallachia. He moved in search of Dracula." He tilted his head. "Accompanying him to the forgein land was Sara... Sara Trantoul. His fiance. She became a pawn in the battle against Dracula. The details are very few and far between but, she didn't live to see the end of the vampire. What she did manage to do was tie her fate to my family line forever."

A shake was given whip. "This is Sara. Her soul was bound to the whip and made Vampire Killer."

She almost made a salacious joke, but she just gave him a smirk, to let him know what she was thinking, then touched the whip.

She was a little shocked it didn't hurt. She had figured it to be some kind of holy weapon, or at least naturally warded against vampires. But this was different. It felt... sentient, but not tormented, or angry. The warm sense of acceptance was possibly more unsettling, at least for her.

"Kinda weird she doesn't dislike me," she said, taking her hand off the weapon. "You'd think she'd disapprove of me, at least on principle."

"Well, you did choose to watch over the family for centuries. Just like her. I'd say she has a bit of a soft spot."

Richard shrugged slightly. The caring feeling hadn't let up yet. Sara seemed to linger as long as she felt was needed, before she returned to her slumber in Vampire Killer. He remembered the first time he encountered her. It was after he first used the whip against the demons that attacked his home.

"I'm still not sure why she decided to awaken to me. It had been generations since a Belmont could properly wield her. Some curse brought on us by one of my ancestors. Ricther, I think?"

Okay, well, it was weird, and felt like some soft parental approval. The kind which she'd never had, in life or death. It made her uncomfortable, the way falling in love had.

"I'm not the right person to speculate on curses, or magic objects. But maybe she realized it was time to step back up. Protect the people who need her help."

She wasn't exactly resentful, but there's a feeling like maybe if there who had a sentience, then turning its back on the people who needed it, because of one hot head, was kind of a shit move.

Edited 2020-01-13 08:12 (UTC)

"Maybe it's a conversation to have with Alucard then." Richard gave a sigh. "We need something to pass the time on the way to Wallachia. Other than sleep."

Richard had the feeling he would be sleeping quite a bit on the plane. The timezone shift coming back from Wallachia was bad enough. Bet had exhausted him on top of it. It was going to be a difficult flight. Especially if Alucard decided to hit the ground running once they landed.

"I don't suppose any of your kind of vampires will be sniffing around the old Dracula stomping grounds?"

"I knew we kept Baby Drac around for something."

She did not make a comment about other ways to spend time, and he's welcome.

"I doubt it. Wallachia is a forbidden area, even now. If there are Cainites, then they're going to be Sabbat, specifically the Tzimisce, in which case, I'll bring the grenade launcher. That's the best negotiating tactic, for the Fiends."

He chuckled. "You planned to put him to bed at one point too?"

There was always an odd relationship between the two of them. Richard had figured there was a underlying mutual respect of boundaries. Both knew each other well enough to give the other space. Both handled grief in their own ways. Although, he couldn't see the two in the same room if it wasn't for him.

"I take it that it remains off limits because Dracula could come back at any moment?"

"I'm not his nanny."

She and Alucard... Well they didn't hate each other, but 'friends' might not ever be the appropriate description for them either. She picked on him, but she picked on lots of people.

"There abouts. Dracula is...very prominent in Tzimisce legends, even though he isn't one. They respect him, at the very least, if not outright fear him. If there are any in Wallachia, they could be fanatics, which will be just extra fun.

And just in case, if there are any, don't let them touch you."

"I was thinking something more of a permanent bed. With a stake."

He didn't truly believe Alucard or Bet would kill each other. They had been around for centuries and still managed to hate and respect each other from afar.

Richard sighed before strapping Vampire Killer to the clip on his pants and reaching for his coat. "Well, if he is a vampire who manages to keep coming back to life despite being dead? Then that is something to fear. I'm just surprised no one tried a truce between the two families of the undead."

He paused. "Why shouldn't I let them touch me?"

"I've got no reason to want him dead. But if I did, I'd use fire. Stakes don't always work, like you think they do."

She pulled on a shoulder rig, and then a black leather jacket over it. Socks and black leather boots. She looked like she should be in a biker gang.

He had so much to learn, and so little time to learn it all. It made a knot if worry form, between her shoulders. It was good he'd come to ask her for help. As skilled as he was, as tucked by destiny, he was still going to need it.

"They're fleshcrafters. A brush of their fingers, and you've got a stump instead of a hand. Or no mouth. They're sadists beyond compare.

Hell, they probably made Dracula want nothing to do with us, after the whole Cathedral of Flesh incident. I wouldn't blame him, if the story is even a quarter true."

"Hm. You'll need to talk that over with Alucard then."

Although he didn't rely on just the stakes. Most of what he had was iron, blessed items by a holy site and a proper priest. As well as some... other arcane methods. Though, he would be the first to admit he had little knowledge in the magics. He left that to his half-vampire friend and the other magic people they came across in their travels.

Richard, at least, was liked more than his previous life.

"And here I thought the idea of cattle was bad enough." He sighed. "Well, I guess that's one way to lose your hand."

He clearly still had Trevor's humor. Or lack there of.

Well, Bet had always found him funny. Now was no different, as she chuckled, tossing her hair.

"Let's avoid it, if at all possible. I like you with two hands."

She glanced around. Dressed, packed, that was everything. She zipped up the duffle, and lifted it without so much as a grunt of effort.

"Did you drive here?"

"I bet you would." Richard let the tease hang in the air before he moved to pick up her bag of... guns. It would be a headache to see how she would get this past security. The mind she could trick--metal detectors? How did vampires even handle the modern era?

"I... may have."

Oh was he in for a surprise. Not how heavy the gun bag was -oh it was heavy, but no. The real surprise would come at the airport.

"Leave it here. We'll take mine. There's a go bag in it I'll need, anyway."

She turned, and hauled up the fuel tank, tucked it under her arm. The last thing she grabbed was an actual scabbard, with a sword in it. Probably a rapier, by the look of it.

"And no parking fees."

"What the fuck--how heavy IS this thing?!"

There it was. He found out how heavy.

Richard paused. "A sword? Really?"

"Fucking heavy, love," she said with a grin.

"Yeah, a sword. When the ammo runs out, it's as good as anything, in taking down monsters. I'm a fair swashbuckler, you know."

"You could of put it in multiple bags. Distributed the weight more."

He looked at the bag with a classic Trevor-over-dramatic-sigh. "I wasn't aware people still fought the Hellspawn with swords. Other than my family."

"Or you could have let me carry it." She intended to be wearing most of it, when the time came.

"I've been using a sword since I was twelve. It's like a part of my arm. And most 'Hellspawn', younger than a century, don't know anything, about how to handle them. Gives those of us that do an advantage."

There was a bit of a tease in there, about the Hellspawn bit.

There was a look that crossed his face, as if his pride was damaged. But, Richard said nothing and moved aside for her to grab the bag. He learned ages back that vampires (even half of ones) were stronger than humans. Alucard had once put a younger Richard in his place.

"Oh, well, be my guest."

Well that wouldn't do.

She moved over to him, ignoring the bag, and instead she tugged him up to her by his shirt front, laying a quick, rough kiss on him.

"Don't," she said softly. "Your manhood doesn't hinge on being able to bench press more than me. You could kick my ass with that whip, so it's apples and oranges, love."

She wasn't great at the whole feelings thing, but she knew a kicked puppy look, when she saw it. And she wasn't about let him have on to dumb ideas, or let him stew in them.

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[ curse redux ] | ❝ in these cathedrals we roam, where shadow people dance. ❞

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