synthneon | · CALL ME OUT (SUMMER) ·

His cold gaze moved over the cup before finally picking it up and taking a small drink. Why, yes, he was a drunkard. That didn't mean he was a complete barbarian at manners and when to be cordial. Of course, Alucard would say otherwise. What did he know? His name was his father's name spelt backwards.

"If you haven't been able to tell, I'm not much of a magic user. Oh, sure. I can use the alchemy embedded into my family weapons, but... well, that's different." He casually gestured to the tome that she had. "And are you really telling me you'd have me keep something like that in the vault that once belonged to my family? It's dedicated to murdering your kind and the night creatures."

It seemed a bit odd to him that a vampire would willingly offer such a thing. Alucard was one thing. He had personal investments in seeing an end to his father's madness. Lenore was the peace broker to Carmilla. A vampire that no one truly liked - not even other vampires by the sound of it. He leaned back in the chair.

"Why bother negotiating at all? Surely you could turn into a mist or a bat and just fly out and we'd be none the wiser."

"It's not for you," she scoffed. Apparently, Lenore did realize that the subtleties of magic were lost on someone that preferred to mow his enemies down, weapon first. "But you're right, I do wish to see it preserved and... what better place than the fabled vault of the Belmonts?

"I understand it's a place devoted to ending the lives of my kind but... perhaps future generations, ones that come across our findings and legacies, might be able to appreciate the knowledge we've tried to pass down." However such people chose to use it was up to the of course, but... "Surely you've seen what good came of even Lord Dracula's humble knowledge?"

At that next question, the vampire closed her eyes. Her ears could pick up the lingering sounds of battle that still echoed in the halls. The screeches of night creatures... Why did it sound as though they were somehow getting closer?

Just her imagination, probably. Like the sound of her own fate coming crashing down around her.

She drew another long drink from her glass, before finally answering. "Perhaps I could, but. That wouldn't be in very good faith now, would it? And, I think... I want to believe there is an opportunity for peace between us, even after everything." And then, as a light-hearted afterthought, "A life on the run doesn't exactly suit me, either."

Trevor lofted an eyebrow at her statements. It sounded like - in many ways - she was resigned to the idea of death as opposed to a state of being a vampire. Usually a gift like this was given to future generations when they believed they had no other purpose left. Their main roll fulfilled, knowledge to share to avoid their mistakes, the lot. There were plenty of stories like that within the Belmont Hold.

"No. You seem to be someone who enjoys the richness in life too much to go out and sleep in a wagon night after night." Trevor gave an over dramatic sigh, a hand raising to wave the thought away. "Fine, fine. We'll take your book and put it in the hold. No doubt a section will be built for the era in which Dracula was slain. Once it's rebuilt, anyways."

Bloody night creatures.

"My next question. How skilled are you at battle?"

It seemed she had tensed without realizing it, since when he finally agreed, her shoulders relaxed. If Hector had found some use in its pages, then perhaps there were other humans, too that might appreciate such things. And for some reason, that comforted Lenore, who, as Trevor surmised— was quite resigned to the end she knew would be coming for her.

"Thank you," came her simple reply, and with it, the end of the liquid in her glass.

It had to be a trick of the light that her pale cheeks pinkened just slightly, as she looked over his way. "It isn't exactly my area of expertise, which is why I suggest you take your leave." She reached up, to tip the glass over by tracing the edge of its rim, letting it roll around the table without direction.

A metaphor of some kind, surely, she bitterly scoffed to herself.

Edited 2021-09-07 09:37 (UTC)

Trevor kept an eye on the glass as it rolled across the tablet. It was almost pathetic, really. Vampires always felt themselves so high and above their mortal prey. Now she's just... resigned. Honestly, even if he were to stake her? It'd be just as sad as watching Alucard mope around.

"Then, I suggest you lower your head while you still have it."

He reached forward and grabbed Lenore's arm. The shove was far from gentle as he reached behind him for one of his weapons. A knife went sailing over the chair Lenore was in only to land in the skull of a nightcreature. It screamed in fury. Trevor kicked himself off the table and lept over the chair. His hand gripped the knife handle and continued to shove it into its head.

Perhaps Lenore had arranged this meeting under the hope that Trevor would have taken her life, regardless of what here. She'd reconciled to not seeing the dusk of next night already, and had only the ghosts of her mistakes to haunt her, if she lived.

Dramatic? A vampire? Never.

She was like a ragdoll in his grip as he reached for her, caught completely off-guard by the sudden tackle. His words hardly registered, half-believing he had finally made his move to end her life, her eyes travelling in slow motion to see the night creature behind her.

Words didn't come to her immediately, instead watching wide-eyed while the Belmont did what he did best... though several more of the hoard now made themselves known creeping in through the shadows, teeth and claws bared.

"There's more..." though he'd probably long noticed it by now. "There's too many! You need to get out of here!"

Well, he would be far from upset to drive a stake into a vampire. He would prefer a bit of a fight though. Not to mention he could already hear in his head how Alucard would point out that Lenore would be more of an aid than a hindrance. She was part of Carmilla's inner court. That alone had enough value to the likes of them. A vampire that could give them insight to the others that might try to dominate Wallachia next?

God, he hated politics.

"Unable to contend with the hoard? Killing them and your kind is what I do best, remember?" Trevor glanced over his shoulder at her. "I suggest you take that book and find us a way out of this room."

He knew he was more than a little injured. He really shouldn't be pushing himself more than he was. It wasn't in him to go out without a fight. Besides, it's not as if the vampire wouldn't be thrilled to see the last of the Belmonts go out eventually anyways.

Trevor pulled the knife from the fallen nigh creature in front of him. He spun it in his hand, ending with the dagger pointing upwards as he counted the pair of eyes he could see. It'd be hard and messy.. a few more injuries as well. Hopefully Lenore knew this castle like the back of her hand.

"Sooner would be the preferred more than later."

Lenore scoffed, "If dealing with them was my area of expertise, do you really think I'd have gone through all the trouble of trying to meet with you?!" Strange, how biting back at him was the only spark of life she'd felt in days.

It would have been entirely in her best interests at this point to abandon both the book and the hunter. Turn into a swarm of bats and fly away before the dawn threatened to peak any further over the horizon. She could get to safety, probably... But, taking her excruciatingly sweet time to glance between the nearest window, the book, and the Belmont— she finally made a move.

Thanks to her vampiric proclivities, she did seem to move with breakneck speed, now that her mind seemed to be set. The book disappeared with a quick flick of her dress and with it, a violent flipping of the table.

His warning was a "Watch your gigantic head!" as she launched it straight in the direction of the descending hoard. Being that she wasn't traditionally the fighting sort, it was remarkably well-timed, just as she reached for and yanked at Trevor's wrist, pulling him back with her towards the window, knowing there was a low protrusion in the roof just below them. Enough to land on anyway, she hoped.

She was running at full speed, willing herself not to look back as she leapt for the glass with a confident, "Now, jump!"

While his face remained passive, if she looked close enough, there might of been a flicker of humor in his gaze. She struck him as someone who would fight to make her place in the world known. Talk of doom and gloom didn't seem to fit her. Besides, he'd prefer to have a vampire verbally spar with him if nothing else. It wasn't as if Sypha...

Best not to dwell on it at the moment.

He heard the warning. His instincts kicked in before anything else. In a split second the Belmont had ducked. At first the had no idea why, but he saw the table go flying. An eyebrow perked before he felt his fatigued and aching body jerked backwards. His arm followed her tugging. It took only a spin on his heel to face the way she was going. The knife remained at his hand, and both whip and morning star bounced at his hips as he kept up pace. Or, tried to, anyways.

"Ladies first!"

The ball of his foot hit the ground and Trevor used it to propel himself forward in the jump. His wrist twisted, making it so his hand could grab onto her wrist. With a quick glance he could see where she was directing them. The roof was close, but, he could already feel his ankles screaming in agony at the idea of impact.

God damnit.

Trevor landed on the extended roof for just a moment. Then, he swung himself around, facing Lenore properly. His gaze was narrowed, the adrenaline of a fight coursing through him. There was no sign of the quips from earlier. Just pure survival.

"Come on, we need to keep moving. They'll keep following us until dawn!" He glanced down to the next level of the roof and leapt downwards. The knife in his hand was sheathed, but, the impact of the next floor gave him little time to pull out his whip.

His quick pace and sharp reflexes hadn't been exaggerated in the tales she'd heard. Although she had tried to lead the way, before she knew it, he was grasping at her wrist as they unceremoniously threw themselves from the higher window onto the platform below.

When her feet left the ground, it was as though things moved in slow motion. Sure, she experienced the thrill of flight thanks to her abilities, but free-falling like this... it felt entirely different. The slow beat of her heart skipped in her chest before she finally landed, suddenly faced by a very intense looking hunter— her own face flushed.

He was... really trying to save her, wasn't he? Then...

Lenore followed quickly behind, lifting her skirts for added mobility with a renewed sense of purpose— and promptly felt her feet completely lose ground from underneath her. When she looked down, her eyes widened in horror as she realized that the swirl of magic lay at her feet; a swirling void that quickly started to pull her in.

The Infinite Corridor, Trevor might recognize it as.

"B... Belmont!" she cried, with more than a hint of panic. She thrust a hand out towards him, reaching out to try and grab ahold of him as she felt herself falling...

And then a thud, before it all went black.

That damned Corridor.

Remind him to personally stake Saint Germaine at a later point. It didn't matter if the man was or wasn't a vampire. Trevor had enough of the magic and shite that surrounded the alchemist. He had enough of dealing with the fall out of Dracula, his war, his curse.

Trevor turned as fast as he could on his heel to face her. His whipless hand reached out to snag onto her wrist. Why was he sticking his neck out to save a vampire? One that was part of Carmilla's court no less. One that most likely had helped construct the strategies the woman had used to plow over the neighboring lands. Well... he had no good reason at least. Just the instinct to save something that called out to him.

How many people called out to him for help?

His hand curled around her wrist at the last second. At first he thought he had managed to pull her back, but then he realized he was pulled in himself. The whip snapped out to try and grab onto something - anything - but to no avail. He was left falling down with her as well.

The thud, for him, was far less graceful.

The air escaped his lungs with a pathetic gasp. Blood found its way out in front of him from the impact and an ever increasing set of injuries his body had sustained with fight after fight of night creatures alike. His blurry gaze moved over to Lenore to make sure his hand still was attached to her wrist.

Then, everything became one mess of blurred colors before nothing.

"...ke —p!" Lenore had awoken first, maybe by the grace of her quick metabolism. She was pacing back and forth, glancing at the horizon often. If Trevor didn't wake up soon... "I said, wake up you clumsy oaf!" she continued to call, reaching down and starting to drag him by the arms, though it wasn't easy work for her. She was tired, weakened, and worried. "Do you honestly expect me to drag you out of here?!"

Wherever here was, exactly. The terrain was wholly unfamiliar to Lenore, who didn't see much of the world outside the castle as it was to begin with. There at least seemed to be nowhere around in this dense patch of forest they'd somehow found themselves in.

What sort of magic was that, anyway? The way that it pulled her in... and the hand that had reached back to try and save her from it...

"You're worse than a fainted goat, I swear it."

Trevor's reflex and awareness were usually at a heightened state. Even if he was drunk and baffling about the countryside. Now, though, it was all the injuries adding up into the state he was in. Countless amount of days fighting up to Dracula, the cults afterwards, and eventually the hoards that would come down to Styria. He was even aware of his surroundings as Lenore pulled him along the way.

It wasn't until a large rock found its way into his side that he let out an uncomfortable groan.

An eye slowly cracked open to find the pale woman leaning over him. Red hair cascading down her shoulders. Honestly? She was striking in her own way. If only she didn't have fangs hidden away.

"...did you say something about a goat?"

"Finally!" without warning, she immediately let go of the grip that she had on his arms, leaving them to flop heavily onto the ground. "I was beginning to think you were going to be out until after the sunrise. Now get up."

It seemed that she would give him no quarter. Especially since... "Unless you want me to leave you out here to see what sort of creatures are attracted to that scent of yours— we need to find shelter, and fast."

We? Well, they were in this mess together for now, at any rate.

"You're in no shape to do anymore fighting and in about ten more minutes I'll be of no help, either. So come on, get up I said!"

"Oh--God," the last word was wheezed out as his back hit the ground. A groan followed, as well as the feeling of not wanting to move ever again. He wasn't sure what was bruised, broken, or pinched, but God did it hurt.

Trevor stared up at the ceiling as she went on. Shelter? Were they out in the open? It was hard to tell with how blurry his vision still was. Still, he forced himself to roll over on his front. Another wheeze left him. It was a struggle to push himself upwards.

"Not sure I'm in the condition to do much of anything, Your Highness." He grunted out. A single hand raised towards her. "You are a Queen, are you not? Would Majesty be more appropriate?"

"It would," sorry, were you expecting her to have more shame? "But lucky for you, now is hardly the time to argue semantics." And it was no time to be wasting time either, was his head as thick as those arms or something??

Lenore wasn't entirely sure what the point of that hand extending towards her was, but she'll clamp down on it at the wrist with both of her own, giving him a heaving tug in an attempt to get him moving.

The sounds and smells around them, at least, suggested they were outside.

"Can't you at least make this a little easier, and put those hulking muscles of yours to good use?!" There was a break in the cliffside up ahead. Some kind of cave? It was at least somewhere to hide from the rising light.

"I'm sure you'll make the time your Queenliness." Trevor huffed. Oh, yes. He would not let all of this go. Instead he slowly stood to his feet. There was a sway in his balance before he could finally manage to stand upright. Everything was in pain.

"Remind me to kill Saint Germain later."

He was going to somehow.

"I can't do much of anything other than listening to your insistent nagging." A hand raised and waved away her complaints. Slowly, he started forward and managed to continue towards the break in the cliff side. There was little else to do than push towards it after all. "I take it you have gone camping before."

Lenore, of course, had no idea who this cursed Saint Germain was, but if they had anything to do with whatever-the-hell had just happened, Trevor might be on to something, with those threats of his. Also, he was right. She would have been happy to have argued semantics as well under any other circumstance...

"Oh, for the love of—" she was going to have to do this herself, apparently. Up until now, he had been the one trying to make sure she survived, so... it was only right to return the favour, wasn't it?

Lenore moved to his side, draping one of his hulking arms around her slender shoulders, intending to drag him more than support if he was going to be dead weight. With her being so close, the sweet flowery oils that she clearly bathed in regularly probably wafted to overwhelm his senses.

"Do I seem like the sort who goes camping to you?"

Trevor froze the moment she moved under his arm. The idea of others - besides a select few - bothering a time of day or even touching him without making a fist was strange. Still, he knew she was going to insist regardless. Trevor shifted a bit of his weight to her and continued forward as much on his own that he could.

"I have no idea what your life was like before you joined the vampiric hoard." He sighed slightly. He was too tired to keep up the more brutish side of the banter. "Make sure where you've found won't burn you to a crisp when the sun is in midday."

· CALL ME OUT (SUMMER) ·

🌴 SUMMER

/swans in like super late

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omg my typio saved this tag from the abyss, praise the lord

raises hands to the sun!! ... of course we will need to do something for spooky month with them

yes i welcome it, heheh... drag lenore on a hunt i dare u......

probably more like saving her from a hunt t b h

wow you can't just say it outright like that !!!

coming from the woman who talks about fingering :|

there is a TIME and PLACE for everything OKAY

this is A TIME AND A PLACE LENORE

oh my god YES TREVOR in the LITERAL SENSE THIS IS A TIME AND A PLACE.... ITS NOT THE RIGHT ONE THO

well NOT WITH THAT ATTITUDE IT'S NOT!

exasperated sigh.... it's a good thing you're handsome.............

:'D and good smelling

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