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.]
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no subject
[ 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.
no subject
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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.]