(Untitled)

[alucloset]

[Alucard's opening his door, nose buried in the book Integra gave him for Christmas. he's not quite paying attention to things, so it's with absent-minded inattention that he dodges the bird hurtling out of his room towards him

Comments

room filter;

[johnbulls]

Ah.

[there's someone already in your room, bro... dusting off an end table where a glass of donor blood - O neg, virgin, female - is already ready and waiting on a silver tray, alongside the empty packet it came in from the clinic.

the butler looks like this is all a part of the plan as he straightens to regard his company.]

You've been quite a difficult man to find, I must say. I was beginning to wonder if we were playing games of old, Alucard.

Re: room filter;

[alucloset]

[OH FUCKING HELL, is what runs through Alucard's brain, because he is absolutely not ready to face off against his dearest- his worst- fuck. the blood entices him, especially since he's been so cautious of the clinic, but.... Walter.]

[none of this shows on his expression or in his body language. he shuts the door behind the cackling bird as he trots in.] Well, I view it as my duty to keep certain parties sharp. I certainly can't be blamed if you're reminiscing.

[johnbulls]

'Keeping certain parties sharp?' [a quiet chuckle, as he sets the feather duster aside.]

I see the same courtesies don't extend to the cleanliness of your room. Your bookshelves were becoming a sad affair.

[alucloset]

... [he'd missed that sound. and that stupid affection his has for feather dusters or whatever. and the glint of his monocle. but...]

My bookshelves often are. At least they're organized, though. [the bird trots over, perches himself on Walter's foot, and says, in Alucard's voice, "Oho!"]