ᴛʀᴇᴠᴏʀ "ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴀʀᴇ" ʙᴇʟᴍᴏɴᴛ. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ancestralwhip) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
synthneon2020-01-08 03:22 am
ancestralwhip) wrote in synthneon2020-01-08 03:22 am
Entry tags:
[ 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?"
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?"
no subject
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?"
no subject
"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."
no subject
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."
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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?"
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"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.
no subject
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?"
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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."
no subject
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?"
no subject
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."
no subject
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?"
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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."
no subject
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.
no subject
"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?"
no subject
"I... may have."
no subject
"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."
no subject
There it was. He found out how heavy.
Richard paused. "A sword? Really?"
no subject
"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."
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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."
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"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.
no subject
"Oh, well, be my guest."
no subject
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.