He almost shakes his head... but he decides that's a bad idea as he wobbles. And swallows, hard, around what is an uncomfortable hunger that's started gnawing.
"I just- I don't know what happened. And I don't- I-" he swallows a little harder, and this is more about something else, "I know we're, um, in the midst of something. But that's-"
He feels the wave of hunger and dizziness and forces himself to keep his eyes open. And not... do what he shouldn't.
"I'm sorry." The words are difficult, not because he doesn't mean them. Because he does. "It was shitty and I'm sorry and you- you deserve to know that you deserved better w-whatever comes."
"No, I'm-" there's a flicker of a glance at Trevor, but he swallows instead of finishing his sentence.
"I'm- whatever happened, it... felt like when I... like when I died. Waking up from the coma." Hungry, like when he'd woken up from the coma.
"I'll- I'm... sure I'll be fine. I just-" He breathes in and out a few times and makes sure not to look at Trevor. He doesn't trust himself. "I should- I might want to go back to my rooms. J-just in case."
Hey, he never said he wasn't an idiot. And it was supposed to be quick! Trevor's the one who made it difficult...
"You shouldn't," he repeats again. "You- everyone needs their strength. If you- you can get me to my feet and I'll try to get to bed. Get out of everyone's way."
He's not referencing their earlier argument. Honestly, other than the fact that it'd happened and he'd been an arse at some point, he can barely think about it. But he nods and leans a little against Trevor's shoulder. He's not dead but he's feeling very weak.
"Nope." He says, and reaches around Jon's back to hold his shoulder, keeping him steady.
"All right. Statement of Trevor C. Belmont, and so on and so forth. So, after Dracula was killed, we separated. Adrian to his father's castle and my family's stronghold, and Sypha and me to go rid the world of the remnants of his army.."
He continues in that low baritone, rubbing little circles against Jon's upper arm.
Jon's wobbly enough that he just leans into the touch and nods along to the narration. He's never been able to stop any of his friends from doing this for him, he isn't about to get creative on it now.
"Vampire generals, fledgling foot soldiers, and a whole lot of night creatures." He explains. "He made them, terrorized the country with 'em. So when he died, they were all over the place, wreaking havoc and trying to each gain power over the other."
"Too late." He grins, tired. "We already managed a good portion of it. Anyway. That's not what this statement is about. I thought you were supposed to be keeping me on track?"
"So Sypha and me were running ragged from place to place. Never able to stop and breathe for very long, until one day we come across an old fortified town called Lindenfeld. And it was...nice, to sit and relax for all of two seconds. The judge was a bit of a hardass but who wasn't, during those times? Those who survived this long had to make themselves hard, or they'd be dead from either starvation or monsters.
So the judge - kind of an old word for a mayor, sorry - had a problem with a Dracula-loving cult of priests holed up in their priory and he asked us to look into it."
"So by the time we got down there, we realized that their 'visitor' was a night creature who'd crashed into the priory and was feeding them instructions on how to bring Dracula back from the dead. Primarily, by creating a portal through souls of the recently murdered."
A low, humorless chuckle, that he feels bad about a half-second later when he remembers the way his family went.
Trevor is silent for a beat, before getting on with the story, a little disturbed to find that his family wasn't, for once, at the forefront of his mind.
"Yeah. So as we were making our way down to this hellpit, all the people in the town burned up at once. I'm...I figured the flames were so hot that it would have been quick. I don't know if that's comforting or disturbing.
...Anyway. A portal to hell opened up and monsters began spilling out. Fallen angels, a Buer, the Malachi. Real top-brass evil sons of bitches, the leaders of various legions. Sypha and me split up and started putting in the work."
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Re: no worries!
"Sorry. That was me - I thought you had been stabbed or something."
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"Quite all right. I have been stabbed many times but... Not today."
He wobbles and swallows and tries to think.
Then looks up and over.
"You're all right, though? Nothing- nothing struck you?"
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..Nearly anyone. Jon is not one of those people.
He rubs his shoulderblades, exhaling.
"No. Should it have?"
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"I just- I don't know what happened. And I don't- I-" he swallows a little harder, and this is more about something else, "I know we're, um, in the midst of something. But that's-"
He feels the wave of hunger and dizziness and forces himself to keep his eyes open. And not... do what he shouldn't.
"I'm sorry." The words are difficult, not because he doesn't mean them. Because he does. "It was shitty and I'm sorry and you- you deserve to know that you deserved better w-whatever comes."
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"Hey. It's fine. I'm fine." He murmurs back. "I know I can be a really stubborn ass about things. Sorry."
Trevor blinks, eyeing Jon, seeing his sick expression.
"Are you sure you're not death-tolling?"
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"No, I'm-" there's a flicker of a glance at Trevor, but he swallows instead of finishing his sentence.
"I'm- whatever happened, it... felt like when I... like when I died. Waking up from the coma." Hungry, like when he'd woken up from the coma.
"I'll- I'm... sure I'll be fine. I just-" He breathes in and out a few times and makes sure not to look at Trevor. He doesn't trust himself. "I should- I might want to go back to my rooms. J-just in case."
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"How about I give you something to take home, for the road?" A bit of a pick-me-up horror novella.
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He would really like to be halfway decent at lying one of these days. Just... once. Just once.
"You don't have to. I know you have other things that need your- your focus."
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He shrugs, continuing to sit on the floor as he thinks of something short and traumatic.
"Do you need your recorder?"
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"You shouldn't," he repeats again. "You- everyone needs their strength. If you- you can get me to my feet and I'll try to get to bed. Get out of everyone's way."
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He doesn't move to help get him standing, instead settling his hand on the man's back, relaxing on the floor.
"How about I tell you the time that me and Sypha stayed to help a town at the behest of their child-murdering judge and everyone burned to death?"
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"You're not taking no for an answer, hmm?"
He's not referencing their earlier argument. Honestly, other than the fact that it'd happened and he'd been an arse at some point, he can barely think about it. But he nods and leans a little against Trevor's shoulder. He's not dead but he's feeling very weak.
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"All right. Statement of Trevor C. Belmont, and so on and so forth. So, after Dracula was killed, we separated. Adrian to his father's castle and my family's stronghold, and Sypha and me to go rid the world of the remnants of his army.."
He continues in that low baritone, rubbing little circles against Jon's upper arm.
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"His... army?"
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But he nods and he won't make him interrupt himself again.
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"So Sypha and me were running ragged from place to place. Never able to stop and breathe for very long, until one day we come across an old fortified town called Lindenfeld. And it was...nice, to sit and relax for all of two seconds. The judge was a bit of a hardass but who wasn't, during those times? Those who survived this long had to make themselves hard, or they'd be dead from either starvation or monsters.
So the judge - kind of an old word for a mayor, sorry - had a problem with a Dracula-loving cult of priests holed up in their priory and he asked us to look into it."
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Because it wouldn't be one of Trevor's stories if it didn't get worse.
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He shrugs, unapologetic.
"So by the time we got down there, we realized that their 'visitor' was a night creature who'd crashed into the priory and was feeding them instructions on how to bring Dracula back from the dead. Primarily, by creating a portal through souls of the recently murdered."
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A little drowsy but-
"And he was here the whole time."
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"Yeah. And he had been instructing his followers about certain runes. Fire ones - ones that could be activated remotely. Carved all over the village."
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He absently lifts his hand in illustration.
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Trevor is silent for a beat, before getting on with the story, a little disturbed to find that his family wasn't, for once, at the forefront of his mind.
"Yeah. So as we were making our way down to this hellpit, all the people in the town burned up at once. I'm...I figured the flames were so hot that it would have been quick. I don't know if that's comforting or disturbing.
...Anyway. A portal to hell opened up and monsters began spilling out. Fallen angels, a Buer, the Malachi. Real top-brass evil sons of bitches, the leaders of various legions. Sypha and me split up and started putting in the work."
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