bakerstreet | Took You In

Took You In

The ＴＯＯＫＹＯＵＩＮ Shipping Meme

They were on your front door, in your yard, or on the street, confused and clearly in no position to fend for themselves; in a worst case scenario, they were bruised and battered, possibly close to death. Bleeding heart or not, you can't just be so cruel as to let them suffer. They need a place to stay, and you'll open your home to them...long enough to get back on their feet, anyway.

Speaking of feet, the shoe could be on the other one. You're worse for the wear - in a new place, possibly injured, certainly not in the best state of mind. You could not even remember how you got here or who you are to get here, for that matter. You may not want to remember. Whether willing or not so willing, you're in no position to turn down help, especially if said helper won't take no for an answer. No matter how dedicated you are to looking after yourself, there's only so much you can do in your position.

The two of you are staying together, at any rate. Only for a while, the plan is. But after said while, even though strength and confidence is returning to the injured, there's something a little different between you two. It could be the close quarters, the kindness shown, or a number of things, but quietly, softly, feelings have grown. Could more confusion and hurt spring from this? What about when it's time to go? Can the temporary resident leave as easily as they intended? You're so close now, perhaps a little while longer can't do any harm...

...until whatever it was that put them in such a perilous position in the first place comes back, and there could be "justice" for anyone who's dared to help.

ＲＵＬＥＳ

Comment with your character and preferences. Say if you'd rather play the taken in or the person taking them in.
Reply to others.

ＰＲＯＭＰＴＳ

ғɪɴᴅɪɴɢ — Who's that? They're no ordinary passersby! Were they in an accident? Are they foreign? ...should you approach them?

ʀᴀɪɴ, ʀᴀɪɴ, ɢᴏ ᴀᴡᴀʏ — The elements make this night no time to sleep out of doors.

ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʟᴛʜ — Cuts, broken bones, injuries all of sorts...you have to stitch them back up, then make sure they don't get any

ɢᴏᴏᴅ ɢᴜᴇsᴛ — It's all you can do to show gratitude to the person who took you in. Fix them a meal, care for their house, whatever you can do once you're able.

ʙᴀᴅ ɢᴜᴇsᴛ — FUCK THIS PERSON AND FUCK THEIR COUCH. You didn't ask to be brought here. Let them clean up after you, you don't even care.

ᴡʜᴏ ᴀᴍ ɪ? — How you got into this situation is a mystery. Even more of a mystery is your identity, and why the person you were would be so displaced.

sᴇʟғʟᴇssɴᴇss —

ʟᴇᴀʀɴɪɴɢ — If you've been injured badly enough or can't remember all too well, you might have to relearn a good deal. Luckily, you have a helping hand.

sᴄᴀʀs — Scars from the encounter that lead you here or scars from prior, you don't want them to see either. You still have your secrets to keep.

sᴛᴜʙʙᴏʀɴ — Ugh, your house guest is so stubborn! They always get up when they should be resting, have the worst habits, and completely disrespect your home! You'll get to them, one way or another. Or you'll throw them out. You don't want to, but you will.

ᴄᴏᴍғᴏʀᴛ — Bad memories or nightmares wreck you; your host and nurse comes to your side unexpectedly.

ᴄᴜʟᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴄʟᴀsʜ — The person who's taken you in is from a different culture or lifestyle than you, and adapting is harder than you thought.

ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ғᴇᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ — Think learning about a new culture is hard? Try being a different species. Can you keep your little eccentricities at bay for the good of your station?

ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜsʏ — Now that your emotions towards your caretaker/host/jailer are softening, you're finding yourself unusually jealous of those in their life who were close to them before.

ɴᴇᴡ ᴀᴄᴛɪᴠɪᴛɪᴇs — You never thought you'd have fun after all that's happened, yet such simple gestures as a picnic or a movie make all the difference.

ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ — You love them, this person who's taken you in or this person you've found. It's not a pity or a thankfulness, it's love, and you know that now. What you choose to do with this information is

ʜɪsᴛᴏʀʏ — Suddenly, the person who's been so nice to you finds out that the two of you have a history. You killed their loved ones or caused something terrible. How can they forgive you?

ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛ — So much has been done for you. The least you can do in return for the one who helped you at your lowest is make sure they never have such a low point.

ᴅᴀɴɢᴇʀ ᴄᴏᴍᴇs ᴋɴᴏᴄᴋɪɴɢ — Anyone in the way of getting to you will be destroyed, and that includes the person you're staying with.

ʟɪᴠᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇᴍ — You've been given a home, maybe which you've never had before. You don't want to leave.

ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴄᴇ — Not only are you living with them, but you're starting a proper life with them.

ʀᴇᴠᴇᴀʟ — All secrets are laid out on the table. You've decided to tell about your past and what lead you here.

ʀᴇᴠᴜʟsɪᴏɴ — What you've done and who you are is so heinous, they want nothing more to do. You're to leave their home and leave them alone.

ᴀᴄᴄᴇᴘᴛᴀɴᴄᴇ — It doesn't matter what they've done. You've opened your home and your heart to them, and nothing's changed.

ᴘᴀʀᴛɪɴɢ — All things must come to an end. No matter what you feel for each other, it's time to leave. Hopefully, you'll see each other again.

ʜᴀᴘᴘɪʟʏ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴀғᴛᴇʀ — Come what may, you've decided to stay at your new home with the person you love. Now, it's safe enough to do so.

ᴡɪʟᴅᴄᴀʀᴅ

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[ Both scenarios sound good to me. As Alucard is from a bygone era he may not wholly understand substance abuse, especially because of his very limited social interactions with others so I'm leaning towards option 1 but either would be alright. ]

[Don't know what kind of need for taking in Alucard would have, so I've left it open.]

Once, the Raventons had been the toast of the region. Their glorious old stone mansion, once shining white stone, had now grayed and crumbled at the edges, hung with vines and etched with moss.

The town nearby had boomed in the 20s. There had been a mine, more than a century ago, and then the region had become a resort, a pleasure destination for wealthy families from New Orleans. It had declined after that, and by the 50s it was dilapidated and poor, scrounging by on money from the shoddy mining operation that reopened.

And the Raventons were forgotten. They spent a few decades as a wealthy family from the country, traveling often into the city to attend parties and show themselves off. But after the boys had been born, the whole family retired quietly, and the Raventon brothers had grown up in seclusion.

Ashley had never left it. Arkady had promised to return, and he waited, even after his father died and their servants left. Ashley and his mother subsisted on food from the one sad little restaurant in the town, and left the take-out boxes out and rotting in the kitchen.

After his mother died, Ashley had nothing, but he still didn't leave.

He sat in the orchard at sunset, eating peaches from the tree and watching the wind skimming through the trees and long grasses that grew on the Raventon lands, stretching into swamps at the edges.

[ Oh I think it'll be to do with pity/empathy/sympathy :> ]

He couldn't say why he had made his way to the New World or what had brought him there. Romania had a great deal to offer him still: from the majestic mountains to the beautiful, forests and lakes, yet here he was, roaming the streets of New Orleans with a quiet curiosity. Every sight intrigued the dhampire, the poor and the rich, the living and the dead: this place was invested with their kind, bold-faced and proud they paraded their powers and desires openly and, despite his age, he often found himself intimidated by their confidence.

His style had moved with the times, it had to, he couldn't be found wearing leather and silk in the twenty-first century, but under the façade of modernity he still carried features of the old world. Skin that paled the moon and hair so white it looked silver in the right light, tumbling down his back in elegant waves and those fierce, golden eyes always looking, always searching.

Sunset was one of Alucard's favoured times of day as while he could exist in the sunlight it was uncomfortable, dusk was when the mix of light and darkness joined in an exquisite harmony that not many of his kind could afford to enjoy. As he walked, soaking in the last, warm seconds of the day in the corner of his eye he noticed a solitary figure enjoying the moment as he was but something unsettled him about the figure.

Alucard so rarely interacted with other people that he found it hard to initiate conversation and maintaining it was near-on impossible for him. That being said, something lured him to the young man's side, peering around a broad peach tree trunk, his elegant fingers gracing its rough surface. "One should not enjoy the gifts of this life alone," he spoke, his voice had a thick, Romanian accent but was not harsh on the ears: quite the opposite in fact, there was an eerie smoothness to his tone making his words seem preternatural "have you no friends to dine with? Why do you sit alone?"

Ashley lifted his head, surprised that anyone had come onto the grounds of his home. No one had come for months, into his orchard. They all avoided him. His only interactions were when he went into town in search of food or liquor.

Though Ashley was human, he was beautiful. His long dark hair was red, shining like a ruby in the late afternoon light. He was nearly as pale as Alucard, with full red lips and sharp cheekbones, made all the more prominent since he hadn't been eating enough for months. His eyes were dark, dark pools.

His lips parted, fascinated by the stranger's beauty, his long white hair, his golden eyes. He was like no one Ashley had ever met, and everything that he revered. Beauty that transcended the human, and a beautiful voice and an accent that Ashley didn't recognize. "I have no one," he said. His voice was soft and cultured, a Louisiana accent with a touch of French. Old money, an accent that echoed with sugar plantations and debutantes. "Only Arkady."

Alucard loomed, watching the boy speak, absorbing his appearance in all the while and committing it to memory. The angles of his face, the curve of his lips, the line of his nose and the shape of his eyes. He exhibited delicacies that most humans didn't but more than that, Alucard took note of a deep sadness in the boy and it moved his half-vampire heart deeply.

He chimed a soft hm in response and moved around the peach tree so he was standing on the other side of it. There was an interesting dynamic in their positioning, Alucard: standing, seemed to hold more power in the conversation yet he was hanging onto the boy's every word. "Someone like you--" he said with a warmth to his tone "--is only alone because he wishes to be." Still keeping his distance he adds "Why don't you go into the city and enjoy your time with others?"

"I do," Ashley said. His face upturned toward Alucard, spine lengthening, body tilting, like a flower to the sun. There was a grace in Alucard that Ashley had never encountered before. He had never dared to believe that such elegance existed in the world. "But it only pacifies my loneliness briefly. The people there are empty. They wish me to be light and lively. And when they have had their fill of me, they are done."

Ashamed of that, more than anything, he dropped his eyes away, cheeks pinking. He knew he was nothing without his beauty. Nothing without Arkady. The ruins around him were testament to that.

The very thought of a human not being able to find solace in his companions moved Alucard and his pain was exquisite. A dhampire filled with pity for the creature he so deeply envied, the agony softened his expression further, touching those wild eyes and darkening them, his lips parting just enough to enhance their elegant shape. "You find no joy in others." he asked rhetorically, eyes downcast "Then," he added, with some hesitation "the world has hurt you gravely and for this I am sorry. Perhaps you are yet to find the right companion, I heard that--" he corrected himself before saying the word human as it sounded so unnatural in his head "--many people find it difficult to find solace in another. It is no easy thing to find a kindred spirit."

As much as Alucard wished to offer his friendship, even if it were only for a single evening, he couldn't imagine his ominous and dark presence could appeal to anyone. He may have been living art but his personality was dark, lonely and sad. These were not qualities that people wanted to experience and he felt that perhaps, even now, his presence was upsetting the boy further.

Then he saw it, even in this dim light: the blush. His mind split in two directions, the first was what his human half thought of. How the childe was embarrassed, shy, and that thought humbled him that anyone could be so self-conscious around him. However, the vampire in him thought of only one thing.

Blood.

He bit his lower lip and swallowed dryly. He tried to change the subject as quickly as possible "You mentioned one companion, Arkady? Is that a friend of your's?"

"My brother," Ashley said. His head lifted again, eyes lighting at the opportunity to speak of his beloved Arkady. He smiled, sweet, with just a spark of something wrong about it, and muddled with sadness. Excited and sorrowful at once, in a way that made no sense for proper, decent, sane human emotions.

"Would you like to meet him?" he offered, wanting to show off his greatest treasure, his Arkady, especially to this exquisite and mysterious figure who so entranced him. Standing up without bothering to step back, Ashley smiled to find the stranger still taller than him. There was a coy playfulness in his smile, head tilting slightly to one side in flirtatious invitation.

Alucard was almost impossible to intimidate, he didn't think this boy was a threat. That being said, there was something a little off about that reaction, and to say that Alucard noticed it was a large admission as he was not astute at judging human emotion. Part of him wondered if he should ask the boy if he felt alright or if he'd said something to upset him, but he wrote off his overreaction and put it down to a sudden burst of human energy. He supposed they were prone to that from time to time.

"Very well," Alucard agreed, although after doing so he wondered why he was so easily lured into this. This boy was the first person he'd exchanged more than a few words with in months, maybe even years, and now he was going to expose himself to someone else. A second pair of eyes and ears waiting for his response; waiting for him to act normally when it was a great strain on him to act at all. "Providing my presence does not disturb him." He supposed that the hour was getting late and this 'Arkady' may already have put himself to bed.

Alucard had had no siblings growing up, only his mother as company as his father had rarely the time (or inclination) to socialise with him. He'd had no friends and upon his mother's murder he had been so very alone. Maybe it was time for him to have another companion or two.

"This way," Ashley said, leading him through the orchard and the wild, overgrown garden, once-manicured paths now overgrown and savage.

Up the broad stone steps at the back of the house, what might once have been pristine white marble but now was brown and gray with dirt, overgrown with moss. In through the heavy wooden door, whose hinges had rusted half-open, to the grand ballroom with its pair of sweeping staircases.

There was a sour scent of rot throughout the house. Food left too long to rot in the kitchen, that accounted for most of it, but there was a very subtle hint of death in there, like a rotting corpse. Rats, surely.

It would be clear now, it must be clear, that Ashley--lovely though he was--could not be entirely sane.

He led the way up the stairs, into an empty bedroom. Unlike the rest of the house, which was cluttered and neglected, the place was pristinely tidy. Even the bed was made.

Without hesitating, Ashley walked to a heavy, ornate golden chest that was sitting on a vanity table. It was the one thing out of place in the room: too large for the little table, it blocked the mirror.

He opened it with graceful, elegant hands, flipping up the latch and lifting the lid. Inside, set on blood-red velvet, was a human skull.

It was bleached white, utterly pristine, with sharp cheekbones and straight teeth. Ashley gazed into the empty sockets, reverent and enraptured.

"He was a genius," Ashley said, and there was sadness in his voice, and the past tense. The madness in Ashley was still merely a fixation, reinforced by a vast abyss of depression. He understood that Arkady was dead. "A sorcerer, you see. Or he would have been. He went to Paris to study magic."

The building unsettled Alucard greatly. It was so reminiscent of home in many ways: splendour gone sour. A place that once hosted grand spectacles that wowed and awed the rich and famous now dilapidated into a hovel, filth in the shell of something once beautiful. Not unlike himself, in many way, a rotten core with an appealing frontage. Foul as the air may have been and dirty as the floors were he did not judge, he did not scorn or comment, this wasn't his home so he had no right to pass judgement on this boy. That being said, he did think it sad for him, or anyone, to exist in such poor conditions.

As the two of them scaled the stairs Alucard's discomfort increased tenfold. This was a very unsettling situation, particularly for someone with so little experience of socialising. When the two of them entered what Alucard assumed to be Arkady's bedroom the childe's anxiety became clearer with each passing second. Everything concluded with the displaying of his brother's bleached skull.

What horrors, the dhampire thought, to have someone you've lost so close to you all the time. A constant reminder of your own loneliness. The very idea of having a bone of his mother's locked away in Castle Dracula repulsed him and he wondered why on Earth this pitiable creature would've tortured himself with this.

Alucard was, typically, a man of little emotion but the great sorrow of seeing this moved him deeply. It etched and chipped away at his cool demeanour and he found himself very upset by what he saw. So much so that he found it difficult to look the boy in the eyes. "Why--" he began, trying to compose himself "--why would you do something like this?" Again, he wasn't judging him, he simply couldn't understand why anyone would torment themselves like this.

Ashley frowned, confused and hurt by the reaction. He had wanted to share his treasure, and the stranger didn't wish to look. His arms curled around the skull, cradling it to his chest.

"Arkady went to Paris," he said, because he couldn't understand the question, couldn't answer it, but he could explain what he knew. "To study. He was a genius, you know."

His thumb caressed distractedly over the ivory bone. "He came back to me like this. It's all I have left of him."

Dropping his eyes aside, Ashley stood quietly. He didn't know what sort of reaction to expect. The stranger's behavior was a mystery to him, and Ashley had no one for guidance, now that Arkady was gone.

Trauma? Shock? Alucard was at the other end of the boy's confusion. In the end he supposed that this reaction was spawned from the terrible shock the child faced upon receiving the bleached skull of his brother. Alucard guessed that the two of them must have been very close and when that final piece of human contact was taken away he let everything else go: it would explain the condition of the house.

How utterly heart-breaking. Even for someone who, according to rumour, was incapable of feeling anything in his blackened, dead heart.

He vowed to be better, more patient, it was obvious that his deep shock had upset the boy and that had not been Alucard's intention. Mustering as much emotional strength as he could he turned and looked at the boy, the skull, then the boy again. He tried to smile, and while the corners of his small mouth turned upwards the look in his eyes was still, quite clearly, very sad.

"I see. Forgive my... questioning." All of a sudden he had a terrible urge to take that skull off the boy, lock it in that oversized, gold chest, and rip him from this dying place. But who was he to do something like that, it was not his place to influence the lives of mortals, or at least that's what he kept telling himself. "Thank you for... showing me Arkady and for informing me of his travel to Europe."

How sad. How very sad. It's too desperately sad.

"Would you" he thought back to his promise to himself not to meddle "like to" how he vowed never to harm or distract another human ever again "come with me" he felt so terribly disappointed in himself "- for a while?"

The smile reassured Ashley, and refocused his attention upon this stranger. The sadness in his eyes, likewise, made Ashley feel as though they were kindred souls. He understood sorrow. Since Arkady had left, he couldn't recall feeling anything else.

"Yes," he said, though he didn't know where they were going, or why. The stranger was like nothing he'd ever encountered before, and Ashley's personality tended naturally toward fixation.

He set the skull reverently back in its chest, bending down to kiss the crown of it before he shut the box and set the latch. The stranger hadn't said where they were going, or why, but Ashley wished very much to find out.

The more time Alucard spent with this boy the more he suspected that his relationship with his brother may have been more than a mutual respect and kinship with one another. That question and those thoughts, however, were not for now and he put them out of his mind for the time being. What he needed to prioritize was to take this boy away from this place as he clearly could not stay here: there was too much decay for someone so fragile of mind.

"What can I call you?" He asked, turning to leave the room: its influence over the boy had been nothing but negative and Alucard wanted to distance the child as much as possible from this place as quickly as he could.

Walking on, expecting the young man to follow, Alucard traced his steps out of the manor, past the orchard and at its edge he waited. Assuming that leaving the grounds of his family home would prove difficult for the boy he made some idle conversation to distract him from any possible upset. "My name is Alucard." Which wasn't wholly true, his real name was Adrian, but he wasn't about to disclose that much. Not yet, at least. "And I'm going to take you to where I'm staying." Also a lie. He hadn't been staying anywhere but he was going to find a decent hotel for the boy to recover in.

"Ashley," he answered, at the question. His steps lagged more than once, glancing back at the chest, at the door to the room, at the stairs leading up, at the rear door of the house, but he followed. "Ashley Raventon."

The conversation did distract him, drawing his attention to the breathtaking stranger, helping to distract him from the prospect of leaving.

It wasn't for long. They were only going nearby, to where Alucard was staying. Ashley followed after him, out of the orchard, past the ornate, rusted gates of the estate. "Alucard," he repeated, pleased by the name, pleased by how they must look, side by side, one silver-gold and one blood red, both of them ethereally beautiful.

Alucard committed the name to memory in conjunction with the boy's face and voice. Even for his kind he had an exceptional memory and could recall people he'd met at a glance years, even decades, ago. As Alucard took great interest in Ashley he knew that his visage, personality and his uniqueness would stay with him for a long time, if not forever.

"Come, Ashley." Alucard said gently, turning to the boy and managing a smile. This time, the expression touched the dhampire's eyes and took away from that cold ferocity that had been locked there, for a moment there was a softness to him that had an allure all of its own.

As the half-breed led on he left the Raventon estate and went out into the city. Alucard made a point to stay to the shadows and the dark side of the street but for all the attempts he made to make the two of the inconspicuous passers-by still noticed them. The two of them were a marvel, like a pair of gothic models strolling down the dusky, warm Louisiana sidewalk. Despite the attention they garnered, nobody bothered them, jeered or approached them.

A few minutes of brisk walking took them to the front of a grand-looking hotel. Alucard wasn't staying there, but he had noticed in during his early evening stroll and recalled it when he thought of somewhere to take Ashley. The frontage was splendid, decorated with primly trimmed topiaries, lush window boxes and wisteria climbing the brown brick walls with lush purple flowers spilling out of each bud.

He continued to lead on, past the lobby and up a set of stairs. The concierge didn't seem to acknowledge their presence, which was Alucard's subtle doing and when they ascended to the second floor he could sense an empty suit and, out of Ashley's sight, he telekinetically manipulated the lock and the door swung open.

"Go ahead Ashley."

It had been years since Ashley had lived like this. Expensive hotels and suites had been his frequently when his parents had been alive, but as a child he'd never really been able to enjoy the splendor.

His whole demeanor lightened as they entered the hotel and climbed the steps to the second floor. He flashed a smile of pure, sweet pleasure at Alucard, reveling in the comfort and elegance of the suite.

Stripping off his shirt--which had once been an expensive silk, but it was stained now from neglect, and in sore need of washing--Ashley headed for the bathroom, shedding clothes along the way without any care to tidiness or modesty. He turned on the spigot for the bath, watching with hungry eyes as the water began to fill: clean, clear, and hot. A real bath. He'd spent the past months--after the water was turned off to the mansion, since Ashley didn't understand the need to pay bills and was too depressed to try and resolve the problem--bathing in cups of water from the well.

That exposed flesh was difficult for Alucard to cope with, not because he was offended by the male form (far from it, in fact) but because he knew what raced under that delicate, thin layer of skin. The precious liquor of life, a red jewel, liquid and viscous, warm and throbbing which each thump of the heart. For the millisecond that he caught a glimpse of Ashley's body time seemed to slow down to a standstill: he saw the embroidery of veins and arteries as a stunning patchwork illuminated in the artificial hotel lighting. The diabolical thirst that followed him relentlessly reared its ugly head and that rancid desire welled up in him.

He couldn't stand it and he moved with preternatural speed to close the door after Ashley the moment he entered the bathroom, standing on the other side of it, his back flush to it. He breathed deeply through his nose, pupils wildly dilating as his fingers suffocated the door handle.

The dhampire began to second guess himself. Had his motives been entirely pure, or had he subconsciously lured this innocent, mad creature away from his home to do him harm. He cursed his morality and his inhumanity. Torn between a vampire and a human neither life complimented the other and he was left living a cruel joke, accepted by neither race and damned by them both.

A minute passed as his senses slowly began to return he realised how strange his reaction must have seemed to Ashley. Swallowing dryly he spoke, trying to repair any damage he may have caused by that outburst. "Forgive me, Ashley..." and he lied "I do not feel well."

Ashley hardly noticed.

Utterly focused upon the luxury and necessity of the bath, he saw and heard the door close, but gave it nothing more than a glance, and not a thought. Sitting in the warm water as the bath filled, Ashley poured excess amounts of scented body wash into the water, watching the bubbles rise around him.

He filled it all the way, hot, and sank down into the water to wet his long red hair. It furled around him like a spill of blood, tendrils licking at his throat and shoulders, and when he surfaced it hung down his back like a bloody waterfall.

Glancing over again at the words from the far side of the door, he considered, briefly, going to offer aid for his companion's sudden illness. But cleaning himself was a high priority, so he discarded the thought and reached for the shampoo. Real shampoo. His had run out weeks ago, and he'd been reduced to using the rough bars of lye soap, decades old, that he'd found in a cellar cabinet. They made his skin rash and left his hair dry and brittle.

Scrubbing himself with the luxury soaps, Ashley left the conditioner in, letting it soak. He sat in the tub, cleaning every inch of himself, until the water had gone completely cold and it was hazy with grime. Then he got out, pulling the plug and winding it into a towel.

There was a bottle of lotion waiting by the sink, and he used it, massaging it into his skin with meticulous care.

Over an hour passed before Ashley emerged, wearing only a towel around his waist, and went to sit on the bed as he began braiding his long red hair. It was heavy with the conditioner that he had never rinsed, and he began to braid it--a french braid, hanging long over one shoulder--to protect it and keep it from tangling.

As Ashley enjoyed his bath Alucard recovers from his momentary lapse. For almost the full hour he stands melancholy, gazing out of the window and watching passers-by on the street below. He finds their movements distracting and this helps cleanse his mind of those impure, carnal desires. That being said, he still mentally disciplines himself for letting the sight of bare flesh ignite such ferocious lust in him.

Having plans to kill and feed on the wicked was something he had to deem acceptable simply to survive in the modern world but to have the same wants for an innocent, and one as fragile as Ashley, made him sick to his dead stomach. He found himself in that cyclical train of thought again where he doubted himself. While his intentions to take the boy from the manner had been good, he wondered now if they hadn't been selfishly motivated. The poor childe would have no way to defend himself if Alucard attacked and in his mind the hammer-horror movie of him pouncing on the wild redhead played again and again and again.

It was the sound of the boy opening the door that jarred that horrific set of images from the dhampire's head. Restraining himself he did not turn to look at Ashley, not wanting to risk exposing himself again, instead he spoke without turning:

"How are you feeling?"

It was when the boy sat near Alucard on the bed that the perfume of clean skin hit his senses and his eyes slowly closed, brow furrowing slightly, he knew what temptations lurked behind him as he battled those desires once again. What was previously tempting was now delectable upon being clean.

"Better," Ashley said. He treasured his own beauty above all else, above even his precious Arkady, though he had never consciously acknowledged that. Being clean once again helped to restore a measure of his spirit and sanity, though he was still half-starved and weak from neglect. "Hungry."

His deft fingers finished the braid, but he had no way to secure it, so he wandered aimlessly around the suite in search of one. "You haven't any luggage," he pointed out, noticing that discrepancy in Alucard's story and looking to him for explanation.

There was the smallest hint of a smirk at these single word responses; there was a childish sort of innocence to them that amused Alucard. Like a babe begging for food and water Ashley had forgotten his manners, but that didn't really bother Alucard, it was nice to have such clear honesty when the world was so keen on concealing the truth. Himself included.

It was the follow-up question that bothered the dhampire. The story he had spun had little in the way of foundations and he did not feel very comfortable lying to Ashley, he didn't want this relationship (even if it was only to last a single evening) up be built on lies, he'd experienced the damage lying could cause and avoided it where possible. That wasn't to say that Alucard never lied, far from it, he lied a lot but the lies he spun were not only for his benefit, or at least that's what he told himself.

Rather than falsifying the truth once again he ignored that question and went back to the redhead's original statement. "What would you like to eat, I'll call down for it and order it for you. Although it will take time to be prepared." For Ashley, Alucard was willing to use one of his least liked pieces of technology from the twentieth century: the telephone.

Ashley considered the offer, somewhat startled to think that he could have anything he pleased. After a moment's consideration, he found the room service menu, and curled up in a chair--still holding the wet end of his braid--to read it.

He chose a chicken and pasta dish, prepared in a French style, and gave Alucard the menu, waiting with impatient interest for his new companion to order.

His eyes lingered upon Alucard, completely entranced by him.

Since the clothes he had worn were dirty, Ashley was in no hurry to put them on. He left the towel around his waist, lingering in one of the arm chairs and toying idly with the end of his braid. He hadn't gotten his inquiry from earlier answered, which meant he didn't know if Alucard had clothes to spare, which was important and urgent in Ashley's mind. "I haven't anything to wear."

Alucard did his duty and called room service. The exchange was stiff and a little awkward as he was so unaccustomed to using phones but his message was received and that was all he needed to do for now. The receptionist had insisted that the room was vacant but Alucard convinced him that the room was occupied and paid for as how could there be someone ordering room service from it if that wasn't the case. He was told to come down as soon as possible with his credit card details to rebook and he politely agreed without any real intention of paying for the room.

It was only when Ashley spoke that he returned to reality and it dawned on him that the redhead's original question about his possessions had probably been a lot more innocent then he had first realised. Always the doubting Thomas, it seemed, Alucard felt a pang of guilt for not having just answered the boy honestly but he reasoned with himself: what could he say, certainly not the truth.

The ghost of a sigh passed Alucard's lips, one filled with remorse, not frustration. He took a step closer to the boy trying to focus on his face and not his bare, pink and clean neck. "I'll find something for you," he said, feeling uncharacteristically protective of this boy "I can't give you anything as I have nothing to give you. I travel--" he searched for the word "--light."

Without thinking he reached out towards the boy and with the backs of his fingers he brushed a few, stray strands of red hair to the side of Ashley's countenance, the gestures was so gentle it was a feather-like touch. "Forgive me, I can't explain why this is. Not yet. Can you trust me for a time and not ask why?"

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