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bakerstreet2019-02-06 01:52 pm
TIME TO PARTY
 WHAT IF THEY HAD LIVED? MEME We're not going to have a ton of prompts today, folks. However, we are going to have this. Say your character or someone close to your character dies in canon. Perhaps they die young, perhaps they're a big damn hero, perhaps they're a slithery villain that SHOULD be dead. What would happen if they didn't? How would the world change? This is your place to explore that kind of AU! Did the death situation never happen? Did they perhaps escape by the skin of their teeth? Did something (or someone) save them? How does the bright and shining (or dark and ominous) future pan out for them? |
i told u... i was gonna
it's taken him months to find where his father's castle has settled this time, but his search has paid off. after centuries of nothing there have been sightings of him, people claiming to have seen dracula on the roads at night, or staying over in inns like he belongs there. he never harms anyone, just moves on.
it's so different than what he remembers that he's set on this mission to see what's gone on. he feels tired, climbing the stairs to the large doors. he doesn't know what to expect. the doors part for him easily: he belongs there, after all, despite his absence. no safety measures trip, nothing comes to stop him, and he's at least glad his father hasn't disowned him entirely.
much is as he remembers. he first tries his father's study, but finding it empty he moves elsewhere. something stills him along the way, though: a portrait of a happy family.
the sentiment is familiar but the family is completely different from his own. vlad is still there, but the woman and child are... his mother had dark hair, as does he, and he was far more taciturn as a baby than this child appears to be.
he understands, suddenly, what must have happened, and he turns away.
part of him wants to leave, to make things simpler for everyone and just disappear again, but he's already made it this far. he heads down to the labs, telling himself that if he doesn't find him there he'll just go and leave it at that. but when he opens the door to the lab his father isn't there. instead is a woman, the woman from the portrait, and he falters, not knowing what to do.
d looks so much like a younger vlad: high cheekbones, a strong jaw. he's obscenely tall, too large for the room in any situation, but he looks... almost like a lost child briefly before he finally finds his voice to speak. to see a human in this castle that's not his mother...
he pushes that thought aside. ]
Excuse me.
no subject
It had taken her some time to wrap her head around the concept — that not only did Vlad's domicile have its own name, but that Castlevania is at least on some level aware in ways that ordinary houses are not supposed to be — but eventually she'd at least managed to accept the practical outcome of the business, even if the means and methods themselves left something to be desired. The fact of the matter is, the castle knows who belongs in it. It knows who doesn't. And no one enters or leaves this castle without Vlad's explicit blessing, not even her. It's half hers, too, and even she appreciates that the castle answers only to its master in this respect.
So the fact that a stranger has not just entered the castle, but moved through it, made his way all the way here to her lab without the least bit of alarm or resistance from the castle is — thought-provoking, to say the least. It's the reason she's only apprehensive when he appears in the doorway, and not necessarily afraid.
It's a vampire; that much is more than obvious. She can tell it at a glance, the height and the pale face and the pointed ears. She's lived long enough with vampires to know what to look for.
She's not afraid. And yet, she's still a mother, and her first thought is for her son, playing upstairs in his room. She may not know what the stranger has come here for, but it won't be her son.]
You look a bit lost. May I help you with something?
[As though he's not just a random giant stranger wandering gawkily around her house.]
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[ but he is, and he feels like it. your home, he says, not our home, because it's not his home anymore, is it? it stings, a little, but his face is once again a pale mask. he inclines his head slightly, nothing if not polite, and thinks a long moment before he says anything more.
it's... difficult to come to terms with this. it's been so long since the loss of his mother but this makes him feel it keenly all over again. she's beautiful, this woman, like his mother had been, and in the lab, like his mother had been, and young, like his mother had been.
for a moment he just looks at her quietly, and his eyes look tired. ]
I came looking for--
[ he hesitates. he doesn't know how to call him. he's never called him anything but father in this place, and dracula out of it. his father has kept him from her for a reason, he suspects, so he doesn't want to open that can of worms.
he takes a breath and it shakes, minutely. he hates it. ]
I came looking for Vlad. I needed to speak with him.
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[Mean to intrude, that is. Because that's it all over again, isn't it? It's not an intrusion if the castle let him in. It's not an imposition when it's already an expectation.
Curious, she watches him as he struggles to express his purpose, quietly setting aside the book she'd been studying and the journal of notes she'd been copying from it, and comes around the lab table to better look at him. She's even more diminutive in appearance than she'd been a minute ago, now that the table isn't mostly obscuring how petite she really is, and next to the way that he towers, the contrast is...dramatic, to say the least.]
Well. You can tell me your business, if you like. I understand you may find this a bit unorthodox, but I assure you, you're far from the first vampire I've entertained while my husband wasn't available.
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[ he blurts it out without thinking, a rare interjection of emotion to come from him. he struggles to even out his expression before he continues, a little pained by it. her husband. he'd known already, put the pieces together, but the confirmation is like a physical blow.
his father deserves to be happy, and it's been centuries. why does it twist in his chest like this? ]
I'm a dhampir.
[ a gentler explanation of his outburst as he sighs, flexing the fingers of his left hand slightly. he's glad that the parasite hasn't said anything yet, but there's no guarantee that it won't.
steeling himself, he tries to put his purpose delicately. ]
It's simply been a very long time since I've heard tales of him among humans through the country, and never before in this way. I just--I just wanted to see what had changed. I suppose in the end I don't need to bother him after all.
[ the implication in his tone is that he fully understands, now. ]
no subject
[The ease with which she makes that pronouncement confirms two things. One is that it's not the first time she's heard that particular word. The second is that all of a sudden she absolutely doesn't believe that this stranger came all this way just to see an acquaintance, Vlad, king of vampires, to bother him with banalities.
A dhampir. A half-vampire, with the other half human. As far as she'd been aware of, there was only one of those in the world, and he is upstairs with his drawing pencils, oblivious.]
I had been curious, I admit, about how you came to call on us to begin with. This castle isn't particularly friendly when it comes to unfamiliar visitors.
[Wait for it.]
...But you already knew that. I didn't have to tell you so at all, did I? Because this castle already knows you, too.
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[ his voice is soft and even now, measured. it's so easy on the day to day, but this is... different. it hits home, literally and figuratively, and he doesn't know how to respond to her assessment at first. she's not wrong, naturally, so he just nods in the first moment, trying to find his words. ]
I haven't been here in centuries.
[ and yet he still looks so young, like a teenager lost in the world. strange, how that works. ]
I thought--I thought perhaps he would have altered it so that I couldn't come inside, but the doors still opened for me so I assumed...
[ he bites his tongue, looking away. he takes a step back, hand gripping at the door frame next to him. ]
I apologize. I shouldn't have come. My time here has passed.
no subject
[There it is: laying her cards on the table. A dhampir, a half-vampire, who expects to be admitted to a place like this. Who thought that Dracula would have changed it while he was gone. Who stammered, when he was trying to say who he was looking for, as though the name he ultimately offered wasn't the one that first came to mind, when thinking about the lord of this castle.]
You might've just said you were looking for your father, instead of leaving me to suss it out for myself.
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[ simply. that's how he sees it. they'd parted on bad terms, after all. he watches her quietly, digging his nails into his palm instead of into the door, not wanting to break anything in his bid at containing himself. he hates this--not her, not the fact that she makes his father happy, but the fact that he's an interloper now, that he hadn't expected his father to move on.
he falters, feeling like a child, and shakes his head. ]
Like I said, I don't want to intrude. I'm... glad that he's happy, now. I thought he never would be again. I--left when I was seventeen. After my mother died.
[ she died when he was so young, and perhaps that's why he turned out this way. ]
no subject
Centuries, he'd said. Centuries ago, he was seventeen, and his mother had died. And now he comes home to find a human woman who must look like little more than an infant to his long-lived eyes, taking up the role that his mother had occupied, casually referring to his father as husband — and showing no recognition whatsoever that he'd even existed to begin with.
She and Vlad will have some speaking to do, when he returns. But for now, she can't help but find an upwelling of empathy, at his reaction.]
That's a horribly young age, to lose a mother. I'm very sorry to hear it.
[Her Adrian will outlive her, she thinks suddenly, with a stab of cold realization in her stomach. Her little boy, coloring upstairs in his room, will live to see her death, and remember it for centuries.]
You've not even offered your name, you realize. Or asked for mine. You might start there, rather than casting about for any excuse that will let you run out of here as quickly and politely as you can.
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he tells himself that his father never makes oversights, but that just means that keeping his mother and his son a secret had been on purpose as well. which side should he believe? the welcoming of the open doors or the complete lack of him in the castle? ]
Ah. My name is D. [ his father named him, clearly, by that moniker. there's no implication that he has any other name. an extension of his father, not his own person. he's struggled with it since the beginning. ] I apologize for my rudeness, you just... surprised me.
[ he pauses, and he doesn't have an excuse for why he's trying to escape. all he can come up with is: ]
I don't mean to be trying to leave so quickly, it's just... [ he tips his head down, away, trying not to catch her gaze because he doesn't want to cry in front of her. he hasn't cried in years. ] He completely erased us. He couldn't even look at me after she died, and he... even her memory is gone, now. [ the tears are falling and he feels small, scrubbing at his face with the back of his arm. he hates it so much, and all he can say afterward, voice thick, is: ] I'm sorry. [ not i apologize, but i'm sorry. for behaving emotionally in front of her. ]
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[She takes a step toward him, then another, drawn instinctively by the quiet desire to offer comfort in whatever form she can, but doesn't try to outright approach him yet, before she can determine whether he's even receptive to it. Again, she finds herself thinking of Adrian — how he would feel if he came back to his childhood home after centuries, only to find a stranger in the place of his mother, and no indication that he or her had ever existed in that place at all...
Vlad is certainly going to have some explanations to give, by the time she's finished. But that's a notion for a later time.]
I can't begin to tell you what he was thinking, when he did what he did. And I certainly can't make excuses for him. Likely you wouldn't much want to hear them from me, anyway. You've no reason to think kindly toward a woman you've rudely discovered is standing in the shoes of your mother, and I'd hardly expect you to, either.
[She folds her hands, almost absently.]
Stay here. Wait for him. It's not as though the great dusty old thing isn't big enough to house the both of us, even if you'd rather not see me at all while you stay.
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[ he sounds tired as he says it, and carefully composes himself again, pushing his hair out of his face and steeling his expression.
he takes a step further into the room again, almost tentative, then shakes his head. ]
Why would I not think kindly of you? You've made him happy, clearly made him a better man. You've been kind to someone that appeared in your home unannounced and told you something you likely never wanted to hear.
[ he sighs, looking at her softly for a long moment. ]
I don't know if I can face him, now. But I would like to get to know you a little better, if that's alright.
[ he's talked to her already more than he's talked to anyone in months, and it's draining. he's so taciturn, but he wants to know more about her, about the woman that's made his father happy after so long. ]
This place could use someone to light its halls, after all.