He takes a moment to gesticulate in the air with one hand towards the space near Trevor's head. The little screen from his dental work will appear there once again. ]
So you can communicate while you're feeling ill. Did you need anything while I'm doing rounds?
[ The contents of that bucket are promptly banished with a wave of a hand. He has to work here and his nose is far too sensitive for that sort of thing. ]
[He continues to hold the bucket, looking (and feeling) like death warmed over. The display shows only static for a few brief moments as Trevor tries to rally his brain the right way]
"He's no witch, to start," he says with a rumble of irritation at the thought of their meeting.
"His ears are a hack job. I assume no one's called him on it because he covers it with his hair and keeps everyone away. His magic, I'd bet, is from a series of glyphs he's carved into his flesh. Not from anything natural."
"Lay back down. You can think and communicate without putting a strain on yourself."
But he returns to the topic soon enough.
"I'm certain he's not. He mentioned..." A pause. A glance over at him. "He mentioned making 'another one'. And having..." he swallows "he mentioned having killed him before. That he rebels and turns on him 'every time'."
He waits to see if Trevor puts the pieces together as he did.
Trevor just straight up ignores the order, frowning as he listens to everything else about Belos.
Hunter's not a witch either, then.
It makes sense: the kid has no magic. Trevor had been led to believe that was a rare, pitiable thing. And of course, he'd consider it a failing and try extra-hard to make up for it, and Belos is allowing him to do it.
His mind is racing through possibilities. What's man-made, built for servitude, and can be brought back again and again? Golems, homunculi, shikigami, imps, spiriduş from Wallachia, İye from the Ottomans: the list is too damn big across cultures and countries even from Trevor's world. They could be looking at something that doesn't even have a name yet.
He glances back up, questioning.
Well. That would explain why he's so determined to defend the bastard.
"No," he agrees quietly, "I do not think he is, though whatever base stock he was made from is probably at least modeled from them. The ears, you see."
He breathes out.
"I was glad to hear he rebels. That he has it in him to rebel. But I will need to find out more to ensure he can... sustain outside of this place without Belos's influence."
A soft shake of his head as he pulls up Trevor's chart just to take a look. He hasn't checked it in the last ten seconds and its something to do with his hands.
"He kept trying to make me kill him."
But he has already harmed one of his boys in his rage. He will not repeat that mistake. Especially since he's never felt a weight like the heaviness of it around his neck.
Trevor's main preoccupation had always been with Hunter, not Belos. Belos was one of a thousand evil-minded bastards Trevor had faced down back home, albeit one with significantly more power than what he was used to.
He glances over curiously at his chart in Dracula's hands but there's no hope of seeing it from here.
So Belos isn't a witch either. What the fuck is he if he had to hack at his ears? Because that particular strain of bastard feels very human.
"Well," he says a touch tiredly, "as he will no doubt run at the sight of me..."
He lets his shoulders sink.
"I might spend some time in the library, for all that it has been gutted. Perhaps I'll be able to investigate some things using the information he gave me. Evidence won't convince Hunter... but it will make me more prepared when he's ready to consider it."
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He takes a moment to gesticulate in the air with one hand towards the space near Trevor's head. The little screen from his dental work will appear there once again. ]
So you can communicate while you're feeling ill. Did you need anything while I'm doing rounds?
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Two buckets?
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[ He's only gone for a moment before he places a second bucket beside the first. ]
I'm assuming someone killed... 'Varney'?
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God, I'm hungover..
Don't know. Maybe?
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As you don't remember dying, one would assume so.
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Don't even get to get drunk first too.
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[ Water is presented. In a glass with a straw. ]
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Any chance of getting some beer instead? I know I just asked a vampire to turn water into alcohol but it eases this enormous fucking headache.
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[ He'll pour something into a small container... and then, after a moment, he'll wiggle his fingers over it. He hands it to Trevor.
...it will at least taste like beer. Even if it's not. ]
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This isn't beer?
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Christ. I'm so angry my ancestors focused on books and not 'magic that makes terrible things taste good'.
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God. The first time I die in a year and a half and it had to be when I wasn't even there to avoid a killing blow.
Anyway. What'd you learn about Belos?
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"His ears are a hack job. I assume no one's called him on it because he covers it with his hair and keeps everyone away. His magic, I'd bet, is from a series of glyphs he's carved into his flesh. Not from anything natural."
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Really. I didn't get a good look at his ears, they were covered up. Shit. Shit, so is he even Hunter's real uncle?
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"Lay back down. You can think and communicate without putting a strain on yourself."
But he returns to the topic soon enough.
"I'm certain he's not. He mentioned..." A pause. A glance over at him. "He mentioned making 'another one'. And having..." he swallows "he mentioned having killed him before. That he rebels and turns on him 'every time'."
He waits to see if Trevor puts the pieces together as he did.
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Hunter's not a witch either, then.
It makes sense: the kid has no magic. Trevor had been led to believe that was a rare, pitiable thing. And of course, he'd consider it a failing and try extra-hard to make up for it, and Belos is allowing him to do it.
His mind is racing through possibilities. What's man-made, built for servitude, and can be brought back again and again? Golems, homunculi, shikigami, imps, spiriduş from Wallachia, İye from the Ottomans: the list is too damn big across cultures and countries even from Trevor's world. They could be looking at something that doesn't even have a name yet.
He glances back up, questioning.
Well. That would explain why he's so determined to defend the bastard.
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He breathes out.
"I was glad to hear he rebels. That he has it in him to rebel. But I will need to find out more to ensure he can... sustain outside of this place without Belos's influence."
A soft shake of his head as he pulls up Trevor's chart just to take a look. He hasn't checked it in the last ten seconds and its something to do with his hands.
"He kept trying to make me kill him."
But he has already harmed one of his boys in his rage. He will not repeat that mistake. Especially since he's never felt a weight like the heaviness of it around his neck.
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He glances over curiously at his chart in Dracula's hands but there's no hope of seeing it from here.
So Belos isn't a witch either. What the fuck is he if he had to hack at his ears? Because that particular strain of bastard feels very human.
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"Human, I would assume. He smelled human, for all the magic carved into his skin."
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Fuck.
So what's the plan now?
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He lets his shoulders sink.
"I might spend some time in the library, for all that it has been gutted. Perhaps I'll be able to investigate some things using the information he gave me. Evidence won't convince Hunter... but it will make me more prepared when he's ready to consider it."
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Want me to talk to him?
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He sighs.
"One which does not so much resemble his abuser."
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