[ alucard shudders from the touch, just a little, and his gaze travels down, but he's still not really processing it, not registering the newfound permanence of it.
his grip tightens, and doesn't loosen while they travel or after they arrive. anderson's actions, once they're in the apartment, are--strange? he blinks, confused, and for a moment it takes him out of his mood. he'll uh, ask about that later, because anderson is questioning him and some of the lingering fog is lifting. ]
Some--dandy hunter.
[ he scowls, fingertips pressing down-- ]
When he touched me, I was--human. That's how he did it. That's cheating.
[ as if on cue, his device beeps, but it's the huntr tone--he frowns, confused, and takes it out to look at it.
ah. he can get double--no, triple, since it was murder--points, if he retaliates. he turns the device to show anderson the screen, on which there's a picture of alessandro. ]
['Dandy hunter'- a few possibilities leap to mind, and the primary suspect is indeed Alessandro, so when Alucard presents the device, he's not at all surprised to see a familiar face. They've only had one interaction, thus far, and it had been far from positive. His mouth twists in distaste and he plucks the device out of Alucard's hand, setting it aside.]
That's the only way that man could hope to kill anything. He was downright pitiful when I encountered him.
[Much to Anderson's frustration, he can't deny that it's a little impressive that he caught Alucard off-guard. Such an achievement against a vampire - particularly one as adept as Alucard - is suggestive of some ability, but it really only moves him from dirt status to rat in Anderson's mind.
He presses Alucard onto the couch, hands heavy on his shoulders.]
I'll run a bath. You're cold and smell like- [His nose wrinkles.] Morgue. Alessandro can wait.
[There's a lot more he wants to say- but Alucard looks dazed and unhappy and he should probably get him comfortable, first.]
[ alucard scowls, visibly upset, because calling alessandro pitiful just makes him feel worse since the hunter still managed to get the better of him. kill him. he's a warrior, he should have been able to take him on anyway--
--he drops to the couch when anderson urges him to sit, and baskerville climbs into his lap immediately to smell him and fuss, whining, so alucard blindly pets him, considering what anderson is saying. ]
--Alright.
[ the cold doesn't bother him, but morgue does, and baskerville is licking his fingers but he can't even really muster much of a smile in response. ]
How long was I gone?
[ he has an idea, from the texts, but the actual time he died is kind of fuzzy. all he can think of is the actual murder itself. ]
[To be fair on Alessandro, Anderson is slightly biased, seeing as the man did suggest Jesus had a foot fetish during their first encounter. 'Pitiful' encompasses more than just his ability as a hunter (or lack thereof, in Anderson's opinion).
He swipes a hand over Baskerville's head before rising, answering Alucard on his way into the bathroom.]
Three days. A very long three days. I thought- [A pause.] Rip and I thought you wouldn't be coming back.
[Dropping down beside the bath, he twists the taps until the water is near-boiling and throws some soap into the tub. They aren't going to be able to suffocate the scent of the morgue with just plain water.
When he overhears Alucard's swear, he calls through the door:]
Language.
[And then he returns to Alucard, dropping down beside him on the couch, his hands rising to divest him of his clothes.]
You were in a freezer for three days. I imagine even you aren't impervious to a little discomfort after that.
[ wow, even alucard's never done that! wild. he's better in one aspect, at least.
he's quiet when anderson answers, and when he does speak his voice is low. ]
It was just--nothing. I was there, then I wasn't. Then I woke up, but it was way later than it should have been.
[ no gap of afterlife. for alucard, he literally died and woke up again, as he should have, it's just--there were three days in between. that's not right. it feels wrong, and he doesn't like it.
he does manage a snort when he's admonished for swearing, since that's usually his job, and he scrubs baskerville between the ears in apology. but he doesn't speak again until anderson returns. he gently tips baskerville to the floor, aiding in the removal of his clothing mechanically. his jacket goes first, then his tie, then his shirt--the tie is fine but the rest are ruined, both with the hole and blood (the jacket doesn't show it, but the white shirt does). there's a scar that wasn't there before, ugly, a deep staking wound in his chest over his heart, but he's not looking at it and he doesn't touch it so it doesn't even register yet. ]
It was kind of funny when they pulled the shelf out and I was awake.
[The description doesn't surprise Anderson. Death is strange for the LIERs. The natives seem able to die and remain dead, but they just come right back, which isn't something Anderson likes to examine for long, given its implications.]
Nothing is standard, I believe, or we'd have heard otherwise by now. But there's usually amnesia upon death, isn't there? Whoever this EROS is, he either works for LIEs, or he has the ability to alter the rules, which are both worth following up.
[Getting a proper look at Alucard's chest prompts Anderson to draw a breath in through his teeth, which grind minutely. A scar, and an unsightly one at that. He'd suspected as much, but it's still surprising.
Of all opponents Alucard's had in six centuries, it has to be Alessandro who scars him - that slimy, pathetic man who accused Anderson of being willing to kill children, who called him a slave for his beliefs, who had been completely helpless once in Anderson's grip. He disliked Alessandro before, but he downright loathes him now. He might as well be on level with LIEs, using the tactics that he did.
He folds a hand over Alucard's pec, thumb pressing against the uneven flesh. He'll have to do something about it or he's going to be angry every time he sees it.
The comment about the shelf doesn't receive a response.]
This needs to be fixed. [There's a proprietorial note to his voice, and his eyes remain on the scar.] There are few men less worthy of marking you.
Yes, usually people forget. But I--as far as I know, I remember everything. I certainly remember how I died.
[ and there's something bitter there, because he'd almost rather not--but that's just how it is, isn't it? he never gets what he wants.
the inhale startles him, a little, and it doesn't click what the problem is until anderson's hand flattens on his chest, and he looks down-- ]
What--
[ that's not possible. he doesn't scar, because his body doesn't work that way. there's a pause, a silence, as he tries to remedy it, but nothing happens and he's left feeling lost, violated, and furious. ]
I can't get it to go away. [ his voice is a little rough, like he's struggling to keep his composure. he's only just gained real autonomy, and now this happened.
his hand lifts, fingertips barely brushing the edge of the scar, and he grits his teeth. ]
I don't want this. I just got rid of marks I didn't want, and now I have to deal with more?
[ it's not right. alessandro doesn't own him, even if he did best him, and the mere thought of bearing the mark--what, forever? just makes him so angry.
his nails dig down hard, drawing blood, but they both know that like this, it's just going to heal over. ]
[Alucard's angry - but it's an anger suffused with violation and agitation, and Anderson can hear it clear in his voice, see it clear on his face. His hand drifts up, sliding over his sternum and under his chin, tilting it up. His other hand eases Alcuard's fingers away from the scar. Trying to tear it off isn't going to do any good. He doesn't need to see Alucard heal to know that.]
Then we'll just have to replace it with a scar you do want, or find some means of getting rid of it altogether.
[In response to Alucard's agitation, his voice loses that angry, proprietorial edge, because indulging his anger isn't helping.]
But the seals and this scar- they aren't the same, Alucard. They aren't aren't remotely in the same category as the seals. [He draws Alucard's fingers up, guiding them to touch the rough, jagged scar on his cheek.] It's just a standard scar, like anyone elses. And I'm already concocting ways to get rid of it.
[ he can't help it. he doesn't calm when anderson touches him, but he stills, looking at him quietly as his fingers relax, blood under his nails but not dripping--he hadn't had time to dig that much, thankfully. he considers what anderson is saying, then nods-- ]
--I wonder if it was that it was HUNTR, or if it was his ability, that made it so that it left a scar. It should have healed as soon as my powers came back, which is pretty suspect.
[ and he... tries to listen, to this too, because it's something he needs to hear. he has an awful view of it, an unhealthy view of it, and so he tries to rearrange his thoughts to suit the narrative he's being given. his fingers brush the scar on anderson's face, linger there, and finally his shoulders slump somewhat. ]
It wasn't even a good fight.
[ sullenly. at least he's back to being childish rather than self-destructive. but anderson's next comment makes him tilt his head, curious. ]
[He was right; the anger wasn't helping, but the calm clearly is.]
I don't recall a bullet wound when I've... seen you, so I agree. EROS would be an interesting man to chat to, I suspect.
[It's a shame neither of them has any technological skill, because they've nothing else to go off of but an application and a network post. Their proficiency as hunters can only take them so far in the modern age. Anderson has attempted to adapt, to research the new depths of technology, but frankly, it all means very little to him even after extensive reading.
He lets his hand drop away from Alucard's chin once he's recovered some composure. His other hand lingers over Alucard's knuckles, skin hot against Alucard's chill. The bath ought to drive some of that away.]
Well, at current, I'm trying to think of the most humiliating way to carry him. What do you think: over the shoulder or under the arm?
[Both are going to be very not fun for Alessandro. And the carrying will be accompanied by a black eye- perhaps two, which is even less fun.]
I'd say I want to eat him, but that's pretty much a given. I was going to ignore the app entirely, but now I'm pissed off that I've been targeted despite not participating. Par for the course though, I suppose.
[ alucard would love to find eros, but it's true that neither of them have the tech savvy necessary. they're good at analog hunting, but digital... perhaps someone they know will know what to do. surely there are others just as upset.
he actually--lets out a rough laugh, letting his head thunk to anderson's shoulder. it's ridiculous, but okay, it's helping. ]
Over the shoulder, like a sack. Under the arm would be too dignified, allow him to face forward.
The worst I've experienced, thus far, is the loss of my socks. All of them. I was particularly sour that day, so you might have noticed.
[Every single sock, Alucard. His prickly behaviour was justified.
The corner of his mouth curls at Alucard's laugh and he takes the opportunity to fold an arm over Alucard's back, since he'll be tugging him upright in a moment anyway. The bath won't take long to reach capacity.]
Over the shoulder it is, then. I'll be sure to send you a photo of that, too. You'll have a nice little gallery by the time I'm done.
I don't wear socks, so I'm afraid the gravity of it is still lost to me. Do you have socks now?
[ wry. he did notice that anderson was fussy, though. fair enough, it was still theft, so it was still annoying. fair. a stupid prank, but what prank isn't on some level stupid?
his spine curves a bit as he leans into it, humming--the attention is just as soothing as the reminder to chill out is. he sighs, closing his eyes a moment. ]
Good. I'll make a collage and hang them on the wall. Fine art.
[ okay. right. bath time. he shifts his feet on the floor, like he's making to get up, but hasn't quite gotten there yet. ugh, moving. ]
Okay, okay, I don't want to smell like rotten leftovers anymore.
[He's so often fussy that it's probably hard to tell the source at any given time. But, to be fair, Duplicity is a place that calls for some fussiness.
Alucard's so cold at the moment that he's definitely not having any trouble with the 'chill' part. Anderson rises first, since Alucard seems to be experiencing some difficulties, and tugs the man up with him, drawing him tight to his chest.]
Seems like you haven't shaken off the rigor mortis completely. Or that might just be the cold; I'm sure you'd know better than me.
[He pulls him in the direction of the bathroom.]
I'll join you, if you don't mind my taking up most of the space. You're liable to drown if I don't.
[ yeah, the fussiness is pretty usual, so he didn't think too deeply in it. at least it was still over something petty, if annoying.
he stands when anderson does, slowly, one hand gripping at his arm only in part because he needs to. anderson is warm, which is something he doesn't usually notice too much, but right now it's... good.
sighing, he starts off toward the bathroom, kicking off his boots on the way with thankfully little teetering since he's doing it mid-movement. ]
I'm not sure. I've never been dead longer than a split-second before, so that might be it.
[ so yeah, his body is kind of struggling to recuperate, since there's no blood flow or anything to keep him going or kickstart him again. warming him up will definitely help.
he hums, noncommittally, but nods. ]
I'd rather not just sink to the bottom of the tub, so yes.
[ he is, at least, Okay enough to disengage and turn off the tap once they get to the bathroom. then he's fumbling with his belt and trousers, eyeing the bubbles in the tub. okay, he's not generally a bath guy for obvious reasons, but it still looks nice. thankfully, there aren't any other scars hiding on his body: it's just the one that killed him.
he's gonna climb into the tub first, so hurry up, buddy. potential drowning is likely imminent. ]
[No blood flow, and no blood in him in general. It's been three days without food, three days with an empty body, and Anderson should have had the forethought to give him a drink before the bath, but it completely slipped his mind. He's probably not going to be able to keep his head up for more than a few minutes.
With that in mind, he's in a hurry when he undresses, hastily pulling off the cassock coat and everything underneath, piling them atop the sink counter. There's a small, silver knife in his boot that he draws out before approaching the bath.]
Right, and I imagine you spent a fair few hours bleeding out before being found. All things considered, it's no surprise you aren't entirely functional right now.
[He descends into the water after Alucard and folds his legs, slipping them under Alucard's thighs. The bath is, predictably, so hot that it has steam billowing off of it in great clouds- just how Anderson likes it.]
Feeding you three times in a single month. I must be getting soft. In the head and otherwise.
[Clucking his tongue, he slips the blade smoothly into his arm, as easily as one would dig a knife into butter, and only stops when he reaches the basilic vein. It's not exactly the most pleasant sensation, cutting oneself, but his face only twitches minutely as he works. When he draws the knife out, it's fast, abrupt, and he's quick to drag Alucard's mouth open with fingers around his chin and send the rapidly dwindling stream splashing over his tongue.]
[ things definitely cut off abruptly for him, but the nature of his body is that it will continue to leak, apparently, so yeah, he's pretty much running on empty right now. ]
Mmhm.
[ his eyes are actually already closed by the time anderson sinks into the tub with him and he shifts to accommodate him, enjoying the closeness, but he's visibly woozy as his eyes crack open when anderson speaks again. there's a lazy comment on his tongue, inciting, but then anderson is already bleeding and prying his mouth open. he groans and swallows, head tipping forward, closer, and he ends up dragging his tongue over the skin as it heals over.
he's a bit more alert after that, sinking against him, and he grins faintly. ]
I know, I'd almost think you don't mind my company or something.
[He keeps the blade nearby, making sure it doesn't touch the soapy water so to avoid even more a sting when he cuts again. And he will have to, because that clearly wasn't enough of a drink to keep Alucard awake for long.]
An impressive feat, on your part.
[Curling a hand over Alucard's shoulder, he carefully eases him back, seating him properly against the ceramic before tearing into his arm. A bigger cut, this time, so it'll linger long enough for a proper drink.]
No teeth. [An odd thing to specify after last time, but he has his reasons. He holds the limb back over Alucard's mouth.]
Rip was distressed about your absence. And Integra asked after you. If you haven't already, send them a message once we're done here.
[Not that he needs to be reminded, in Integra's case, but Rip, well- he might not think to without a reminder.]
[ teasing. kind of. he's certainly less agitated than he was to start with, probably a combination of being talked down and sinking into the bath. he's pliant when he's moved, though his gaze is hawk-like when anderson tears into his arm.
he hums to indicate he'd heard, and though he's curious why he's not in the mental space to ask after it right now, and especially not when he's still hungry enough to latch onto the wound in a manner almost desperate. so he drinks carefully, not biting down, just gulping down blood until the wound heals. then he just--lingers a moment, eyes lidded, before he sits up a bit. ]
Mm, I--texted Integra while I waited for you to come and get me. [ so he responded to anderson's messages first? his was the most recent, after all. ] I'll... text Rip later.
[ he sighs, using this moment of lucidity to start to wash off the lingering 'morgue' aura. ]
I gave Integra your information when she arrived, in case she needed to contact you. I didn't imagine she'd need to that soon. i was going to tell you she was here when I got home from work, but since I got murdered on the way to work, that kind of ruined my plans for the evening. I'd just found her the night before, and I didn't see you that evening.
[That should be enough blood, for the moment. He sets the knife aside in favour of grabbing a big, oval loofah (obviously his own purchase, because Alucard doesn't shop for bath accompaniments), which he dips into the water to get nice and wet before applying it to Alucard's shoulders. He's not going to get rid of the corpse smell simply by sitting in the water.
The spiel prompts him to arch an eyebrow. He hadn't thought his comment insinuated anything, but maybe it did.]
That's detailed of you. [Almost sounds like he's coming up with an excuse on the fly, since people tend to over-compensate when doing that.] There's no need to be- odd about it; not everything in your life has to be my business.
[Sure, he took it personally, but that's irrational, and he knows that; it's been in the back of his mind that things would change if Integra returned, and certainly would change if they ever returned home, and it was just- foolish, to let himself get so attached. It's his own fault that he's hurting.
He runs the loofah across Alucard's clavicle.]
Do you need more hot water, or does this suffice? [His free hand finds Alucard's knee, pressing it back to test its flexibility.]
[ ah, he's still helping. alucard appreciates that too, though he doesn't exactly appreciate the way the conversation is going: he doesn't think he's being odd at all. he also doesn't understand that anderson might be hurting, or why: it's clear he's always been obsessed with both of them, and that should be enough.
(he really doesn't understand emotions.)
he shakes his head, scowling. ]
I'm not being odd about it. I'm mad being killed ruined my plans. I thought someone from home appearing was pertinent information for you to know.
[ god!!!!
anyway. his knee bends properly, and he watches it, testing out his arms as well and shrugging. ]
I think I'm alright now.
[ eventually he sighs, leaning in to brush his lips along anderson's jaw. it's affectionate, openly so, in contrast to his earlier agitation. ]
[Going into that much detail is odd, Alucard! A 'oh right, I was going to tell you she was here, but I died' would have sufficed.
He snorts, but lets that subject drop, since Alucard clearly isn't pleased with it and he did just die. A little rest and relaxation is required.]
No need to thank me. Being helpful to each other is generally how we function.
[Sorry, that sounds awkward. Thinking about Integra has made him awkward.
Anyway, he continues to clean off Alucard's shoulders, and arms, and chest, steadily scrubbing away the scent of the morgue. He'll smell like banana, once he's out of here (don't judge Anderson's choice of bath scents. He discovered Lush recently, okay).
In response to the lips at his jaw, he drops his head, slipping out from under them. It's discreet enough that it would be easy enough to shrug off as absentmindedness.]
I'll have to find out where Alessandro's residence is. Mr. Sim's ought to know- though the man isn't my biggest fan, at the moment, so I'm not sure how readily he'll give me that information. [His hand descends beneath the water, running the loofah down Alucard's navel.] I may be in for a hunt.
[ it does sound awkward though. he's the one being weird, and alucard doesn't get it. he likes it best when there's an ease between them, and that is--not this. the way anderson avoids his kiss bothers him too, though it shouldn't: clearly he's just not really paying attention.
(which also agitates him slightly, since we all know how alucard feels when he's being ignored, even accidentally. it doesn't occur to him that anderson would actively avoid the affection, especially since they're already in the bath together, you weirdo. )
he pushes past it though, for now, telling himself it certainly wasn't on purpose, and then he nods. at some point during this he's grabbed shampoo to work on his hair, both because there's blood in it and because it smells like death. ]
It'd be easiest if there were a directory, but that's just inviting problems for the innocent. [ surprisingly, he makes no raunchy comment as anderson's hand dips lower. maybe he's too tired. ] A hunt, though--if I thought I'd be any use against his shitty methods, I'd ask to join you for the fun.
[This is affection enough on its own, isn't it? There's the steady swipe of his hand, the proximity. He knows Alucard wants and needs closeness right now and he is providing that, if in a controlled manner. And, to be honest, he wants it too, after being afraid that Alucard was gone for three days straight. But if he indulges himself, he'll just end up being frustrated later.
The loofah moves up his thigh next, over his knee, and then down the length of his leg, with Anderson shuffling back to scrub at the hard to reach crevices.]
Are you really that helpless as a man? You were a war lord, once, and he wouldn't have the jump on you this time.
[Not that he's going to invite Alucard along, because he's not entirely sure what being turned human again would do to Alucard after he was in the morgue for three days.]
Or do I need to start taking you to the gym? I could tie him to your back while you have a go on the treadmills. Double the exercise.
[Don't go to the gym with Anderson. Clearly it wouldn't end well.]
[ it is affection, sure, but he always wants more, craves more: everything is never enough, for alucard, who endured so long without any affection at all. it's left him starved, and once someone grants it to him, he doesn't exactly understand why it would be recinded unless he did something wrong.
he rolls his eyes and doesn't answer at first, briefly dunking himself under the water to rinse his hair. sure, it makes him tired again, but it's a necessary evil. ]
I'm not helpless. Look, it just makes me uncomfortable. Being human. I don't deserve humanity, and I don't like it being forced on me, either, even if it's temporary during a fight.
[ ooh, now he's grumpy again. his eyes narrow, but then he just says, childishly: ]
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his grip tightens, and doesn't loosen while they travel or after they arrive. anderson's actions, once they're in the apartment, are--strange? he blinks, confused, and for a moment it takes him out of his mood. he'll uh, ask about that later, because anderson is questioning him and some of the lingering fog is lifting. ]
Some--dandy hunter.
[ he scowls, fingertips pressing down-- ]
When he touched me, I was--human. That's how he did it. That's cheating.
[ as if on cue, his device beeps, but it's the huntr tone--he frowns, confused, and takes it out to look at it.
ah. he can get double--no, triple, since it was murder--points, if he retaliates. he turns the device to show anderson the screen, on which there's a picture of alessandro. ]
Him. For the game.
[ bitter. ]
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That's the only way that man could hope to kill anything. He was downright pitiful when I encountered him.
[Much to Anderson's frustration, he can't deny that it's a little impressive that he caught Alucard off-guard. Such an achievement against a vampire - particularly one as adept as Alucard - is suggestive of some ability, but it really only moves him from dirt status to rat in Anderson's mind.
He presses Alucard onto the couch, hands heavy on his shoulders.]
I'll run a bath. You're cold and smell like- [His nose wrinkles.] Morgue. Alessandro can wait.
[There's a lot more he wants to say- but Alucard looks dazed and unhappy and he should probably get him comfortable, first.]
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--he drops to the couch when anderson urges him to sit, and baskerville climbs into his lap immediately to smell him and fuss, whining, so alucard blindly pets him, considering what anderson is saying. ]
--Alright.
[ the cold doesn't bother him, but morgue does, and baskerville is licking his fingers but he can't even really muster much of a smile in response. ]
How long was I gone?
[ he has an idea, from the texts, but the actual time he died is kind of fuzzy. all he can think of is the actual murder itself. ]
I feel like shit.
[ he cussed in front of the dog, look at that. ]
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He swipes a hand over Baskerville's head before rising, answering Alucard on his way into the bathroom.]
Three days. A very long three days. I thought- [A pause.] Rip and I thought you wouldn't be coming back.
[Dropping down beside the bath, he twists the taps until the water is near-boiling and throws some soap into the tub. They aren't going to be able to suffocate the scent of the morgue with just plain water.
When he overhears Alucard's swear, he calls through the door:]
Language.
[And then he returns to Alucard, dropping down beside him on the couch, his hands rising to divest him of his clothes.]
You were in a freezer for three days. I imagine even you aren't impervious to a little discomfort after that.
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he's quiet when anderson answers, and when he does speak his voice is low. ]
It was just--nothing. I was there, then I wasn't. Then I woke up, but it was way later than it should have been.
[ no gap of afterlife. for alucard, he literally died and woke up again, as he should have, it's just--there were three days in between. that's not right. it feels wrong, and he doesn't like it.
he does manage a snort when he's admonished for swearing, since that's usually his job, and he scrubs baskerville between the ears in apology. but he doesn't speak again until anderson returns. he gently tips baskerville to the floor, aiding in the removal of his clothing mechanically. his jacket goes first, then his tie, then his shirt--the tie is fine but the rest are ruined, both with the hole and blood (the jacket doesn't show it, but the white shirt does). there's a scar that wasn't there before, ugly, a deep staking wound in his chest over his heart, but he's not looking at it and he doesn't touch it so it doesn't even register yet. ]
It was kind of funny when they pulled the shelf out and I was awake.
[ no it wasn't. ]
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Nothing is standard, I believe, or we'd have heard otherwise by now. But there's usually amnesia upon death, isn't there? Whoever this EROS is, he either works for LIEs, or he has the ability to alter the rules, which are both worth following up.
[Getting a proper look at Alucard's chest prompts Anderson to draw a breath in through his teeth, which grind minutely. A scar, and an unsightly one at that. He'd suspected as much, but it's still surprising.
Of all opponents Alucard's had in six centuries, it has to be Alessandro who scars him - that slimy, pathetic man who accused Anderson of being willing to kill children, who called him a slave for his beliefs, who had been completely helpless once in Anderson's grip. He disliked Alessandro before, but he downright loathes him now. He might as well be on level with LIEs, using the tactics that he did.
He folds a hand over Alucard's pec, thumb pressing against the uneven flesh. He'll have to do something about it or he's going to be angry every time he sees it.
The comment about the shelf doesn't receive a response.]
This needs to be fixed. [There's a proprietorial note to his voice, and his eyes remain on the scar.] There are few men less worthy of marking you.
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[ and there's something bitter there, because he'd almost rather not--but that's just how it is, isn't it? he never gets what he wants.
the inhale startles him, a little, and it doesn't click what the problem is until anderson's hand flattens on his chest, and he looks down-- ]
What--
[ that's not possible. he doesn't scar, because his body doesn't work that way. there's a pause, a silence, as he tries to remedy it, but nothing happens and he's left feeling lost, violated, and furious. ]
I can't get it to go away. [ his voice is a little rough, like he's struggling to keep his composure. he's only just gained real autonomy, and now this happened.
his hand lifts, fingertips barely brushing the edge of the scar, and he grits his teeth. ]
I don't want this. I just got rid of marks I didn't want, and now I have to deal with more?
[ it's not right. alessandro doesn't own him, even if he did best him, and the mere thought of bearing the mark--what, forever? just makes him so angry.
his nails dig down hard, drawing blood, but they both know that like this, it's just going to heal over. ]
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Then we'll just have to replace it with a scar you do want, or find some means of getting rid of it altogether.
[In response to Alucard's agitation, his voice loses that angry, proprietorial edge, because indulging his anger isn't helping.]
But the seals and this scar- they aren't the same, Alucard. They aren't aren't remotely in the same category as the seals. [He draws Alucard's fingers up, guiding them to touch the rough, jagged scar on his cheek.] It's just a standard scar, like anyone elses. And I'm already concocting ways to get rid of it.
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--I wonder if it was that it was HUNTR, or if it was his ability, that made it so that it left a scar. It should have healed as soon as my powers came back, which is pretty suspect.
[ and he... tries to listen, to this too, because it's something he needs to hear. he has an awful view of it, an unhealthy view of it, and so he tries to rearrange his thoughts to suit the narrative he's being given. his fingers brush the scar on anderson's face, linger there, and finally his shoulders slump somewhat. ]
It wasn't even a good fight.
[ sullenly. at least he's back to being childish rather than self-destructive. but anderson's next comment makes him tilt his head, curious. ]
Anything good?
[ yeah, okay, he's interested. ]
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I don't recall a bullet wound when I've... seen you, so I agree. EROS would be an interesting man to chat to, I suspect.
[It's a shame neither of them has any technological skill, because they've nothing else to go off of but an application and a network post. Their proficiency as hunters can only take them so far in the modern age. Anderson has attempted to adapt, to research the new depths of technology, but frankly, it all means very little to him even after extensive reading.
He lets his hand drop away from Alucard's chin once he's recovered some composure. His other hand lingers over Alucard's knuckles, skin hot against Alucard's chill. The bath ought to drive some of that away.]
Well, at current, I'm trying to think of the most humiliating way to carry him. What do you think: over the shoulder or under the arm?
[Both are going to be very not fun for Alessandro. And the carrying will be accompanied by a black eye- perhaps two, which is even less fun.]
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[ alucard would love to find eros, but it's true that neither of them have the tech savvy necessary. they're good at analog hunting, but digital... perhaps someone they know will know what to do. surely there are others just as upset.
he actually--lets out a rough laugh, letting his head thunk to anderson's shoulder. it's ridiculous, but okay, it's helping. ]
Over the shoulder, like a sack. Under the arm would be too dignified, allow him to face forward.
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[Every single sock, Alucard. His prickly behaviour was justified.
The corner of his mouth curls at Alucard's laugh and he takes the opportunity to fold an arm over Alucard's back, since he'll be tugging him upright in a moment anyway. The bath won't take long to reach capacity.]
Over the shoulder it is, then. I'll be sure to send you a photo of that, too. You'll have a nice little gallery by the time I'm done.
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[ wry. he did notice that anderson was fussy, though. fair enough, it was still theft, so it was still annoying. fair. a stupid prank, but what prank isn't on some level stupid?
his spine curves a bit as he leans into it, humming--the attention is just as soothing as the reminder to chill out is. he sighs, closing his eyes a moment. ]
Good. I'll make a collage and hang them on the wall. Fine art.
[ okay. right. bath time. he shifts his feet on the floor, like he's making to get up, but hasn't quite gotten there yet. ugh, moving. ]
Okay, okay, I don't want to smell like rotten leftovers anymore.
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[He's so often fussy that it's probably hard to tell the source at any given time. But, to be fair, Duplicity is a place that calls for some fussiness.
Alucard's so cold at the moment that he's definitely not having any trouble with the 'chill' part. Anderson rises first, since Alucard seems to be experiencing some difficulties, and tugs the man up with him, drawing him tight to his chest.]
Seems like you haven't shaken off the rigor mortis completely. Or that might just be the cold; I'm sure you'd know better than me.
[He pulls him in the direction of the bathroom.]
I'll join you, if you don't mind my taking up most of the space. You're liable to drown if I don't.
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he stands when anderson does, slowly, one hand gripping at his arm only in part because he needs to. anderson is warm, which is something he doesn't usually notice too much, but right now it's... good.
sighing, he starts off toward the bathroom, kicking off his boots on the way with thankfully little teetering since he's doing it mid-movement. ]
I'm not sure. I've never been dead longer than a split-second before, so that might be it.
[ so yeah, his body is kind of struggling to recuperate, since there's no blood flow or anything to keep him going or kickstart him again. warming him up will definitely help.
he hums, noncommittally, but nods. ]
I'd rather not just sink to the bottom of the tub, so yes.
[ he is, at least, Okay enough to disengage and turn off the tap once they get to the bathroom. then he's fumbling with his belt and trousers, eyeing the bubbles in the tub. okay, he's not generally a bath guy for obvious reasons, but it still looks nice. thankfully, there aren't any other scars hiding on his body: it's just the one that killed him.
he's gonna climb into the tub first, so hurry up, buddy. potential drowning is likely imminent. ]
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With that in mind, he's in a hurry when he undresses, hastily pulling off the cassock coat and everything underneath, piling them atop the sink counter. There's a small, silver knife in his boot that he draws out before approaching the bath.]
Right, and I imagine you spent a fair few hours bleeding out before being found. All things considered, it's no surprise you aren't entirely functional right now.
[He descends into the water after Alucard and folds his legs, slipping them under Alucard's thighs. The bath is, predictably, so hot that it has steam billowing off of it in great clouds- just how Anderson likes it.]
Feeding you three times in a single month. I must be getting soft. In the head and otherwise.
[Clucking his tongue, he slips the blade smoothly into his arm, as easily as one would dig a knife into butter, and only stops when he reaches the basilic vein. It's not exactly the most pleasant sensation, cutting oneself, but his face only twitches minutely as he works. When he draws the knife out, it's fast, abrupt, and he's quick to drag Alucard's mouth open with fingers around his chin and send the rapidly dwindling stream splashing over his tongue.]
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Mmhm.
[ his eyes are actually already closed by the time anderson sinks into the tub with him and he shifts to accommodate him, enjoying the closeness, but he's visibly woozy as his eyes crack open when anderson speaks again. there's a lazy comment on his tongue, inciting, but then anderson is already bleeding and prying his mouth open. he groans and swallows, head tipping forward, closer, and he ends up dragging his tongue over the skin as it heals over.
he's a bit more alert after that, sinking against him, and he grins faintly. ]
I know, I'd almost think you don't mind my company or something.
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An impressive feat, on your part.
[Curling a hand over Alucard's shoulder, he carefully eases him back, seating him properly against the ceramic before tearing into his arm. A bigger cut, this time, so it'll linger long enough for a proper drink.]
No teeth. [An odd thing to specify after last time, but he has his reasons. He holds the limb back over Alucard's mouth.]
Rip was distressed about your absence. And Integra asked after you. If you haven't already, send them a message once we're done here.
[Not that he needs to be reminded, in Integra's case, but Rip, well- he might not think to without a reminder.]
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[ teasing. kind of. he's certainly less agitated than he was to start with, probably a combination of being talked down and sinking into the bath. he's pliant when he's moved, though his gaze is hawk-like when anderson tears into his arm.
he hums to indicate he'd heard, and though he's curious why he's not in the mental space to ask after it right now, and especially not when he's still hungry enough to latch onto the wound in a manner almost desperate. so he drinks carefully, not biting down, just gulping down blood until the wound heals. then he just--lingers a moment, eyes lidded, before he sits up a bit. ]
Mm, I--texted Integra while I waited for you to come and get me. [ so he responded to anderson's messages first? his was the most recent, after all. ] I'll... text Rip later.
[ he sighs, using this moment of lucidity to start to wash off the lingering 'morgue' aura. ]
I gave Integra your information when she arrived, in case she needed to contact you. I didn't imagine she'd need to that soon. i was going to tell you she was here when I got home from work, but since I got murdered on the way to work, that kind of ruined my plans for the evening. I'd just found her the night before, and I didn't see you that evening.
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The spiel prompts him to arch an eyebrow. He hadn't thought his comment insinuated anything, but maybe it did.]
That's detailed of you. [Almost sounds like he's coming up with an excuse on the fly, since people tend to over-compensate when doing that.] There's no need to be- odd about it; not everything in your life has to be my business.
[Sure, he took it personally, but that's irrational, and he knows that; it's been in the back of his mind that things would change if Integra returned, and certainly would change if they ever returned home, and it was just- foolish, to let himself get so attached. It's his own fault that he's hurting.
He runs the loofah across Alucard's clavicle.]
Do you need more hot water, or does this suffice? [His free hand finds Alucard's knee, pressing it back to test its flexibility.]
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(he really doesn't understand emotions.)
he shakes his head, scowling. ]
I'm not being odd about it. I'm mad being killed ruined my plans. I thought someone from home appearing was pertinent information for you to know.
[ god!!!!
anyway. his knee bends properly, and he watches it, testing out his arms as well and shrugging. ]
I think I'm alright now.
[ eventually he sighs, leaning in to brush his lips along anderson's jaw. it's affectionate, openly so, in contrast to his earlier agitation. ]
Thanks. For helping me out.
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He snorts, but lets that subject drop, since Alucard clearly isn't pleased with it and he did just die. A little rest and relaxation is required.]
No need to thank me. Being helpful to each other is generally how we function.
[Sorry, that sounds awkward. Thinking about Integra has made him awkward.
Anyway, he continues to clean off Alucard's shoulders, and arms, and chest, steadily scrubbing away the scent of the morgue. He'll smell like banana, once he's out of here (don't judge Anderson's choice of bath scents. He discovered Lush recently, okay).
In response to the lips at his jaw, he drops his head, slipping out from under them. It's discreet enough that it would be easy enough to shrug off as absentmindedness.]
I'll have to find out where Alessandro's residence is. Mr. Sim's ought to know- though the man isn't my biggest fan, at the moment, so I'm not sure how readily he'll give me that information. [His hand descends beneath the water, running the loofah down Alucard's navel.] I may be in for a hunt.
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[ it does sound awkward though. he's the one being weird, and alucard doesn't get it. he likes it best when there's an ease between them, and that is--not this. the way anderson avoids his kiss bothers him too, though it shouldn't: clearly he's just not really paying attention.
(which also agitates him slightly, since we all know how alucard feels when he's being ignored, even accidentally. it doesn't occur to him that anderson would actively avoid the affection, especially since they're already in the bath together, you weirdo. )
he pushes past it though, for now, telling himself it certainly wasn't on purpose, and then he nods. at some point during this he's grabbed shampoo to work on his hair, both because there's blood in it and because it smells like death. ]
It'd be easiest if there were a directory, but that's just inviting problems for the innocent. [ surprisingly, he makes no raunchy comment as anderson's hand dips lower. maybe he's too tired. ] A hunt, though--if I thought I'd be any use against his shitty methods, I'd ask to join you for the fun.
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The loofah moves up his thigh next, over his knee, and then down the length of his leg, with Anderson shuffling back to scrub at the hard to reach crevices.]
Are you really that helpless as a man? You were a war lord, once, and he wouldn't have the jump on you this time.
[Not that he's going to invite Alucard along, because he's not entirely sure what being turned human again would do to Alucard after he was in the morgue for three days.]
Or do I need to start taking you to the gym? I could tie him to your back while you have a go on the treadmills. Double the exercise.
[Don't go to the gym with Anderson. Clearly it wouldn't end well.]
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he rolls his eyes and doesn't answer at first, briefly dunking himself under the water to rinse his hair. sure, it makes him tired again, but it's a necessary evil. ]
I'm not helpless. Look, it just makes me uncomfortable. Being human. I don't deserve humanity, and I don't like it being forced on me, either, even if it's temporary during a fight.
[ ooh, now he's grumpy again. his eyes narrow, but then he just says, childishly: ]
I don't need to go to the gym. That's ridiculous.
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