[It takes him a while to respond, since, you know, he's busy stabbing himself and chasing down the Archivist. When he does, he sounds irate.]
You told me not to stab myself; you didn't say anything about otherwise using it, and it can do more than simply turn one into a monster. It's a holy relic, it has some versatility. Besides, I didn't stab the man. I merely scratched him with the intention of driving out the evil residing in him, and the result is, well... hence the question.
[He runs a hand over his face.]
I'm at the church. Don't come inside. There's- eyes, in here, and you'll want to be out of earshot of The Archivist.
I told you not to use it! That's the stupidest argument I've ever heard. Did he even consent to it?
[ a car door slams. apparently he's getting a damn taxi. ]
It does not have versatility. The power of Jesus in a nail is not going to do anything but incite things that should best be left sleeping. It turned you into a soulless plant, and you thought this was a good idea.
It's difficult to make one willing when they're being influenced by an evil entity.
[He'll rise and step outside, casting a quick glance at the office door before approaching the street. Some children playing in the park wave to him and he offers a quick wave back.]
It turned me into a plant? You failed to mention that detail. And I disagree on the versatility thing, clearly- it would have worked on something directly linked to hell, and I know, because it doesn't do anything to you except hurt you, but this entity seems to be of a different nature.
I mean, I expected the nail to work regardless of its origins, but perhaps this entity has power beyond what the nail can provide a mere man. You managed to kill me, after all.
[He rubs at his eyes, sighing.]
I'm not going to be giving you the nail, if that's why you want it present.
[ oh, but he can. but then: ah, he didn't mention the plant thing, did he? he was too busy yelling and crying, last time. ]
Yes, a plant. You know, giant, hellish plant monstrosity? Feed me, Seymour? Except instead of wanting the blood of some sadistic dentist, you wanted mine. You had vines, priest, and no face, and I'll tell you right now it wasn't a pleasant experience for anyone involved, doubly so when said vines set me on fire like a witch on a pyre.
[ it doesn't even clock that anderson probably has not seen that musical. he doesn't care, he's too irritated. ]
You're going to give me the nail because if you don't, I'm going to shove my hand so far inside your chest that it comes out your mouth, and I'm going to take it.
[ anderson's cassock does not actually work like alucard's weird whole-body void, but his point still stands. he will go in there, alexander. ]
[Hm. Okay. Going to have to dedicate some thought to the fact he turned into some horrible vine monster later.]
Nice of you to be so tactful about describing that to me. I've had an unpleasant evening- [Self-inflicted, but anyway.] and I don't need you being an ass.
[The threat gives him pause.]
I don't even store it there! Where it is, you won't be able to reach it. The ability to retrieve things from inside this cassock is directly linked to me, and while LIEs is able to reach things in it, inexplicably, you're most certainly not going to be able to. Just leave it, Alucard. There won't be a repeat performance of this.
Me? Being an ass? You used the nail on someone without knowing what it would do, and I'm the ass? Oh, sorry, were my numerous warnings about how horrible it is not enough? Should I have warned you a twentieth time too, while reliving one of the worst nights of my life, that you've been lucky enough not to experience yet?
[ and lo, here's the fucking taxi. alucard pays, not even looking at how much money he's giving, and slams the door again as he steps out.
he hangs up, since anderson is outside, and stomps up to him, eyes narrowed. ]
You think that will stop me from trying? Telling me something won't work?
Iscariot has had a very long time to research the nail, and they provided me that information. I wasn't unaware of it's effects. That it would produce vines, no, but you make it sound as though I hadn't the faintest idea of what I was doing.
Not to experience- [Anderson scoffs, derisive.] Oh, yes, I can't imagine what an unpleasant night that must have been for you. I truly am a lucky man.
[He glowers when the taxi shows up, slipping the device into his pocket.]
It'll be pointless, but if you insist on wasting your time then feel free to try reaching into it. The 'I told you so' you get after will be well deserved.
Did I say it was a good night for you either? Did I? Sorry, I must have missed that part when that didn't come out of my mouth! You don't have the monopoly on it being horrible, priest! Trust me, it only gets worse from the point you're from! Do you think I enjoyed it? I like fighting, but--I'm not that far gone.
[ to not care about any of the other things that happened. he's so mad!! he can't stand it. he so rarely gets truly mad, but boy, is he pissed off now. he stands before anderson, hands balled into fists, and stares at him, eyes narrowed. ]
No, I suppose I won't give you the satisfaction, though shoving an arm into you right now would be awfully satisfying.
[ a pause, and he glances at the church. ]
You know that if he doesn't improve we're going to have to kill him. Reset him. He'll come back later, and hopefully without the influence of the nail.
[Over in the park, if Anderson should happen to glance that way, he might notice that the child who was waving before is... still waving at him. Staring at him. In fact, all of the children are staring at him, even as they play. Their heads are twisted at unnatural angles and their eyes are wide, unblinking. The parents in the park are also sat on their benches, heads turned to neck-braking degrees to watch.
A man is walking his dog along the pavement in front of the church and both of these turn to stare at Anderson, as well, until they're around the block. Animals, people, vaguely eye-shaped things, it doesn't matter. They all turn toward Anderson. The message is clear: Inside or outside, he's being watched, observed.
Even Alucard, himself, may look to be affected to Anderson. But maybe the priest is used to Alucard's eyes being strange and too large, uncanny and unblinking, bulging behind his glasses.
Of course, to Alucard, there's absolutely nothing to see. Just people going about their lives.]
I know you didn't enjoy it. I know it was unpleasant for you, and I've been sympathetic. But I'm not the one monopolising here! [He throws up his hands, agitated.] You know why I made that concession, Alucard? Why I decided not to use the nail on myself? For you. Not for myself. But perhaps I might have had further reservations had you mentioned the kind of monster I became, or that I became soulless, or perhaps any other details you've neglected to mention. You've only given me reasons not to destroy myself for you, and that's fine, because I'm certainly not doing it for myself, but don't accuse me of monopolising when you prioritised your feelings over fully informing me of the consequences of using the nail and and when you don't even know my feelings on that night because the only ones we've discussed are yours.
[It takes him a moment to notice the girl waving over Alucard's shoulder. This time, he doesn't wave back, but he tries for a tight smile- until he notices that the girl isn't alone in looking at him. In fact, there are eyes in every conceivable place there could be eyes, and he can't help staring back a moment before speaking.]
We've already established these tricks won't work! [He's shouting at... nothing, right now, growing increasingly angry and agitated.] I know this isn't happening! It isn't real- much like any legitimacy you have when compared to the other entities! Is this all you can do? Throw a few eyes onto the landscape?
[And back to Alucard.]
Whatever needs to be done here, I can do it myself. Leave. You clearly aren't going to be of any help here, and frankly, I'm just as inclined to shove an arm into your chest right now.
I didn't know how else to explain it! I told you it made you a monster, I told you it didn't work. Do you think I wanted to tell you that something you put faith in bled out your soul for nothing? I don't know how to be anything but selfish, because that's what I am. Selfish. Wanting. I've never been anything but. But--I just-- [ he growls, frustrated. ] I'm not going to ask you how you felt like some kind of invasive bastard, but if you did want to discuss it, I'd listen. Because it's--something that happened to both of us, I know that. But don't act like I've forcefully made all feelings about me when the only reason I haven't pressed for yours is respect. It's much fresher for you. I've had thirty years to mourn. Of course it's easier for me to talk about.
[ a pause, as this--uh, weirdness happens. but, there's nothing to see for him, so he lofts an eyebrow, but the comment about eyes sticks with him. ]
Eyes? What is it you awakened? That's not--that's nothing from our world, our God and Devil. [ he's still angry, still--frustrated, but there's something oddly quiet about him too. ]
Something like that is beyond both of us I think, petty squabbling aside. Let me in, perhaps I can take some of its attention off of you. Sure, you know it isn't real, but that doesn't mean it's going to stop.
[Wincing, Anderson folds a hand over his face, quiet for a long moment following his brief loss of composure. The eye can't inflict him with eyes if he can't see. The black is centring.]
We'll put it aside in the minute.
[A beat, and then:]
Asking isn't invasive. I'm not going to unload on someone unless I'm aware they're open to it, which is only courteous. I might not have told you if you asked, but I would have appreciated the sentiment behind it. If you asked more in general, it would just- and admittedly, I wouldn't say much, but it's just- [It's domestic and affectionate, is what it is, any he's annoyed at himself for wanting to ask for that. He twists his lips and presses his thumb against an eyelid.] I said it was fine, and I meant it. Better late than never, regarding telling me about the nail, which is unpleasant information, but sometimes unpleasant things need to be heard, and I've already established I likely wouldn't be very forthcoming even if you did ask.
But, right, that aside.
[He drops his hand from his face, glancing briefly back into the park before turning to Alucard. He still sounds agitated, but that's mostly because watching children turn their heads like their necks are made of putty is unpleasant.]
It's the Eye. Some sort of evil, knowledge-seeking entity who is really serious about its namesake. You won't be able to do anything, and you're not going anywhere near The Archivist, because he can compel you to bare your soul with a few words. If you don't have information on counteracting the nail, then there's nothing you can do for either me or him. [He gestures vaguely to the street, pointedly not tuning his eyes to it.] I'll meet you back at the apartment later.
[While he might not be able to see anything, the sensation of being watched is unlikely to abate by covering his eyes. It just means Anderson can't see what's watching him.]
[ he says it softly. they both know that. he seems cowed though, for once, surprisingly. he listens, and is just--he sighs, looking away. ] I can try, though. I didn't intend to make you think I didn't give a shit about anything but myself. [ the swearing indicates he's still agitated, of course, but the thought is true. it's not that he doesn't care, it's that he cares too much and doesn't know what to do with it.
it hurts, caring, and not in a way he enjoys.
he listens to this too, frowning, and once anderson is done talking he takes a step closer to grip his chin and examine him. quietly, carefully. then he leans in to kiss him. it's not gentle but it's not rough either, an idle press of his mouth and the scrape of dulled teeth. then he pulls back, letting go. ]
Fine. I don't trust it with you. [ yes, 'it with you,' not 'you with it.' ] If you do need me for disposal, I'll be available. Try to be careful with annoying eldritch things, next time. Not all of them have a capability for fondness like I do.
[That's not the message he was trying to convey. He knows Alucard cares, in his own way; his approach to caring just happens to be more indirect, more about action, when sometimes a simple 'how are you' is all someone needs. That said, the kiss is a brief, pleasant distraction, and he's a little less uneasy when Alucard pulls away.
The eye just watched that, which is... not great, but he'll try not to let that ruin it.]
I take that to mean there's no easy solution, here. The offer of assistance is appreciated. And I'm... [He pauses, thinking.] Glad of you. [He really sounds like an old, emotionally constipated man right now.
He glances back at the church, and he's not eager to return to Saint's watching him, but it would be an improvement over literally everything currently happening.
And the Archivist is staring at them through the window. Anderson casts him an irate look, coupled with a similarly irate sound.]
I think the eldritch is perfectly fond of me, unfortunately. Just a different category of fondness.
That's The Archivist, by the way. Should you ever encounter him, I recommend either covering his mouth, his ears, or descending into the earth. His abilities are rather useless once you know how to deal with them.
[ it's difficult to get alucard to understand things like this, both because he has no context for it, and because the smallest reprimand is enough to make him assume he's fucked up royally even when he's only made a small faux pas. oh well, at least he's going to--try, or something. an attempt will be made. ]
Things are difficult, with creatures like that. [ but he's stilled when anderson says he's glad, and he doesn't know how to respond. he's practically owlish for a split-second before he recovers, managing a sly grin instead. ] Good, because you're stuck with me indefinitely, priest, whether I'm a thorn in your side, you're glad for me, or both.
[ it's fond though, and he's glad it's only eyes and not ears--he follows anderson's gaze to spot the archivist in the window, and he blinks. ah. ]
I'll remember that. [ a beat passes, and he leans around anderson to eye the man (being?) in the window, and he smiles like the blade of a sickle as he raises one hand to flip him off, much like a teenager flipping off a camera in a store as they shoplift. his face is briefly a mass of blinking red eyes, when anderson isn't looking, because two can play the eyeballs game, and then, just as swiftly, it's back to normal, and he's sighing. ]
Let me know when you're on your way back, I'll cook something. I want something solid.
[ he's still agitated and wants to bite down on something, he means, and has no recourse for that here. still, it's a nice gesture to include it in a real meal so anderson can benefit too, even if he is still mad at him.
that said, he'll turn with a wave to walk off, shoulders hunched somewhat as he goes. ]
[In the window as the Archivist watches, he sees the kiss, the second man who stares at him with too many eyes, and he is terrified. But instead of hiding as he might normally do, shifting away from the window, he leans forward. And as Alucard's multitude of eyes stare, the Archivist's multitude stares back in turn. Multicolored, varied in their sizes, and filling up every one of the many visible scars covering his face and neck. They disappear after only a moment, much as Alucard's do.
Is this another creature aligned with the Beholding? He doesn't think so. But he's fascinating and the Archivist needs to Know him, find out what he is. Beyond, obviously, someone who knows more about that nail the priest used than Anderson, himself.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
voice.
You told me not to stab myself; you didn't say anything about otherwise using it, and it can do more than simply turn one into a monster. It's a holy relic, it has some versatility. Besides, I didn't stab the man. I merely scratched him with the intention of driving out the evil residing in him, and the result is, well... hence the question.
[He runs a hand over his face.]
I'm at the church. Don't come inside. There's- eyes, in here, and you'll want to be out of earshot of The Archivist.
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[ a car door slams. apparently he's getting a damn taxi. ]
It does not have versatility. The power of Jesus in a nail is not going to do anything but incite things that should best be left sleeping. It turned you into a soulless plant, and you thought this was a good idea.
[ he huffs a bit, frustrated, and: ]
Meet me outside, then. Bring the nail.
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[He'll rise and step outside, casting a quick glance at the office door before approaching the street. Some children playing in the park wave to him and he offers a quick wave back.]
It turned me into a plant? You failed to mention that detail. And I disagree on the versatility thing, clearly- it would have worked on something directly linked to hell, and I know, because it doesn't do anything to you except hurt you, but this entity seems to be of a different nature.
I mean, I expected the nail to work regardless of its origins, but perhaps this entity has power beyond what the nail can provide a mere man. You managed to kill me, after all.
[He rubs at his eyes, sighing.]
I'm not going to be giving you the nail, if that's why you want it present.
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[ oh, but he can. but then: ah, he didn't mention the plant thing, did he? he was too busy yelling and crying, last time. ]
Yes, a plant. You know, giant, hellish plant monstrosity? Feed me, Seymour? Except instead of wanting the blood of some sadistic dentist, you wanted mine. You had vines, priest, and no face, and I'll tell you right now it wasn't a pleasant experience for anyone involved, doubly so when said vines set me on fire like a witch on a pyre.
[ it doesn't even clock that anderson probably has not seen that musical. he doesn't care, he's too irritated. ]
You're going to give me the nail because if you don't, I'm going to shove my hand so far inside your chest that it comes out your mouth, and I'm going to take it.
[ anderson's cassock does not actually work like alucard's weird whole-body void, but his point still stands. he will go in there, alexander. ]
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Nice of you to be so tactful about describing that to me. I've had an unpleasant evening- [Self-inflicted, but anyway.] and I don't need you being an ass.
[The threat gives him pause.]
I don't even store it there! Where it is, you won't be able to reach it. The ability to retrieve things from inside this cassock is directly linked to me, and while LIEs is able to reach things in it, inexplicably, you're most certainly not going to be able to. Just leave it, Alucard. There won't be a repeat performance of this.
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[ and lo, here's the fucking taxi. alucard pays, not even looking at how much money he's giving, and slams the door again as he steps out.
he hangs up, since anderson is outside, and stomps up to him, eyes narrowed. ]
You think that will stop me from trying? Telling me something won't work?
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Not to experience- [Anderson scoffs, derisive.] Oh, yes, I can't imagine what an unpleasant night that must have been for you. I truly am a lucky man.
[He glowers when the taxi shows up, slipping the device into his pocket.]
It'll be pointless, but if you insist on wasting your time then feel free to try reaching into it. The 'I told you so' you get after will be well deserved.
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[ to not care about any of the other things that happened. he's so mad!! he can't stand it. he so rarely gets truly mad, but boy, is he pissed off now. he stands before anderson, hands balled into fists, and stares at him, eyes narrowed. ]
No, I suppose I won't give you the satisfaction, though shoving an arm into you right now would be awfully satisfying.
[ a pause, and he glances at the church. ]
You know that if he doesn't improve we're going to have to kill him. Reset him. He'll come back later, and hopefully without the influence of the nail.
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A man is walking his dog along the pavement in front of the church and both of these turn to stare at Anderson, as well, until they're around the block. Animals, people, vaguely eye-shaped things, it doesn't matter. They all turn toward Anderson. The message is clear: Inside or outside, he's being watched, observed.
Even Alucard, himself, may look to be affected to Anderson. But maybe the priest is used to Alucard's eyes being strange and too large, uncanny and unblinking, bulging behind his glasses.
Of course, to Alucard, there's absolutely nothing to see. Just people going about their lives.]
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[It takes him a moment to notice the girl waving over Alucard's shoulder. This time, he doesn't wave back, but he tries for a tight smile- until he notices that the girl isn't alone in looking at him. In fact, there are eyes in every conceivable place there could be eyes, and he can't help staring back a moment before speaking.]
We've already established these tricks won't work! [He's shouting at... nothing, right now, growing increasingly angry and agitated.] I know this isn't happening! It isn't real- much like any legitimacy you have when compared to the other entities! Is this all you can do? Throw a few eyes onto the landscape?
[And back to Alucard.]
Whatever needs to be done here, I can do it myself. Leave. You clearly aren't going to be of any help here, and frankly, I'm just as inclined to shove an arm into your chest right now.
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[ a pause, as this--uh, weirdness happens. but, there's nothing to see for him, so he lofts an eyebrow, but the comment about eyes sticks with him. ]
Eyes? What is it you awakened? That's not--that's nothing from our world, our God and Devil. [ he's still angry, still--frustrated, but there's something oddly quiet about him too. ]
Something like that is beyond both of us I think, petty squabbling aside. Let me in, perhaps I can take some of its attention off of you. Sure, you know it isn't real, but that doesn't mean it's going to stop.
[ then, blandly: ]
Also, go for it, if it will make you feel better.
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We'll put it aside in the minute.
[A beat, and then:]
Asking isn't invasive. I'm not going to unload on someone unless I'm aware they're open to it, which is only courteous. I might not have told you if you asked, but I would have appreciated the sentiment behind it. If you asked more in general, it would just- and admittedly, I wouldn't say much, but it's just- [It's domestic and affectionate, is what it is, any he's annoyed at himself for wanting to ask for that. He twists his lips and presses his thumb against an eyelid.] I said it was fine, and I meant it. Better late than never, regarding telling me about the nail, which is unpleasant information, but sometimes unpleasant things need to be heard, and I've already established I likely wouldn't be very forthcoming even if you did ask.
But, right, that aside.
[He drops his hand from his face, glancing briefly back into the park before turning to Alucard. He still sounds agitated, but that's mostly because watching children turn their heads like their necks are made of putty is unpleasant.]
It's the Eye. Some sort of evil, knowledge-seeking entity who is really serious about its namesake. You won't be able to do anything, and you're not going anywhere near The Archivist, because he can compel you to bare your soul with a few words. If you don't have information on counteracting the nail, then there's nothing you can do for either me or him. [He gestures vaguely to the street, pointedly not tuning his eyes to it.] I'll meet you back at the apartment later.
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[ he says it softly. they both know that. he seems cowed though, for once, surprisingly. he listens, and is just--he sighs, looking away. ] I can try, though. I didn't intend to make you think I didn't give a shit about anything but myself. [ the swearing indicates he's still agitated, of course, but the thought is true. it's not that he doesn't care, it's that he cares too much and doesn't know what to do with it.
it hurts, caring, and not in a way he enjoys.
he listens to this too, frowning, and once anderson is done talking he takes a step closer to grip his chin and examine him. quietly, carefully. then he leans in to kiss him. it's not gentle but it's not rough either, an idle press of his mouth and the scrape of dulled teeth. then he pulls back, letting go. ]
Fine. I don't trust it with you. [ yes, 'it with you,' not 'you with it.' ] If you do need me for disposal, I'll be available. Try to be careful with annoying eldritch things, next time. Not all of them have a capability for fondness like I do.
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The eye just watched that, which is... not great, but he'll try not to let that ruin it.]
I take that to mean there's no easy solution, here. The offer of assistance is appreciated. And I'm... [He pauses, thinking.] Glad of you. [He really sounds like an old, emotionally constipated man right now.
He glances back at the church, and he's not eager to return to Saint's watching him, but it would be an improvement over literally everything currently happening.
And the Archivist is staring at them through the window. Anderson casts him an irate look, coupled with a similarly irate sound.]
I think the eldritch is perfectly fond of me, unfortunately. Just a different category of fondness.
That's The Archivist, by the way. Should you ever encounter him, I recommend either covering his mouth, his ears, or descending into the earth. His abilities are rather useless once you know how to deal with them.
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Things are difficult, with creatures like that. [ but he's stilled when anderson says he's glad, and he doesn't know how to respond. he's practically owlish for a split-second before he recovers, managing a sly grin instead. ] Good, because you're stuck with me indefinitely, priest, whether I'm a thorn in your side, you're glad for me, or both.
[ it's fond though, and he's glad it's only eyes and not ears--he follows anderson's gaze to spot the archivist in the window, and he blinks. ah. ]
I'll remember that. [ a beat passes, and he leans around anderson to eye the man (being?) in the window, and he smiles like the blade of a sickle as he raises one hand to flip him off, much like a teenager flipping off a camera in a store as they shoplift. his face is briefly a mass of blinking red eyes, when anderson isn't looking, because two can play the eyeballs game, and then, just as swiftly, it's back to normal, and he's sighing. ]
Let me know when you're on your way back, I'll cook something. I want something solid.
[ he's still agitated and wants to bite down on something, he means, and has no recourse for that here. still, it's a nice gesture to include it in a real meal so anderson can benefit too, even if he is still mad at him.
that said, he'll turn with a wave to walk off, shoulders hunched somewhat as he goes. ]
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Is this another creature aligned with the Beholding? He doesn't think so. But he's fascinating and the Archivist needs to Know him, find out what he is. Beyond, obviously, someone who knows more about that nail the priest used than Anderson, himself.]