call the schoolmaster

[derpish]

Who: Cain Knightlord and Abel Nightroad
What: Discussin' neck nommings and Crusnik
When: Just after Alucard and Crusnik went batshit together
Where: Abel's room - Satis Tower
Rating: Uhh... PG-15?

Comments

[priestish]

The battle had reached an... anti-climactic conclusion some time ago, the scars on the room already mended and broken pieces of charred kitchen furnishings disposed of and replaced. There was no blood... no gore... no horrific scorch marks over tile and counter and wall; there was simply an empty kitchen that looked as tidy and whole as ever.

It was like it had all been a dream. Had it? Perhaps Cain had merely created this monstrous nightmare as he lay near bloodless against the wall, some hours ago. Maybe he was simply overtired and his imagination had run away with these ideas of Crusnik in his head...

...Maybe...

The rest of the apartment is put together well enough; the bedroom door is closed. Maybe you should simply go back to bed, brother dear. Maybe when you wake up next, you won't even remember any of that terrible nightmare at all.

[derpish]

Perhaps he would have believed that, had it not been for that tiny burn on the palm of his hand. That couldn't have come from anywhere but that shock as he tried to calm the monster Abel had been turning into; and as he looked around the newly in tact room, he rubbed a thumb over it as though to remind himself it had been real.

Walking almost slowly through the perfectly turned out apartment, he wondered if this was all a hallucination from getting out of bed so soon.

His palm rests on the wood of the bedroom door for a moment before he pushes it open, steeled for whatever he might find within.

[priestish]

There's no monster, silly brother.

At least... not the sort you're dreading to find.

Abel is simply ... Abel again, all human lines and angles once more, lifting his head from where he was tentatively stitching at the remnants of the hole Alucard's... fist... had left through his chest. His hair was wet and the bedsheets were clean; he'd been rather diligent in erasing all traces of what Cain might've too easily been able to dismiss as a nightmare... Except it seemed their skin still remembered

[derpish]

He froze in the doorway, eyes fixed on that hole in Abel's chest with a sort of horrified fascination. Their durability as clones was so much greater than the average Terran, but to see Abel just sitting and stitching that so casually was... surreal to say the least

[priestish]

...

Abel's hands had snapped to Cain's in fractions of a second, halting him from touching the gauze with an almost inhuman intensity. ...He had been very careful about this. Burned the sheets... sat under the water for a long while until the bleeding had slowed... made sure to clean every single drop of red from the floorboards. His tainted blood wouldn't so much as touch his brother's skin, even if Abel knew it couldn't harm him.

In this...? His intense paranoia regarding Crusnik and its durability in desiring to possess and infect his brother could not be taken seriously enough.

"...Don't touch it," he said quietly, using his iron clad grip on his twin to force him to sit on the bed, whether he wanted to or not. "I'll finish." Cain's worries were for naught, anyway; he couldn't contract infection his body wouldn't immediately destroy and blood loss was a minor issue that only required a few hours of sleep to remedy. There were certain advantages to being a monster.