[It’s hard to say how long the bodies have been there at this point, or what they even looked like, their faces long deteriorated from rot. But in the disgust and dread wrought by that uncertainty, they fulfill their purpose: they act as signposts, as warnings, as he had told himself — beware, turn away.
Abandon hope ye who enter here.
The meaning, beyond that, is clear. The lord of this castle wants visitors no longer, and he will not tolerate their presence brought upon him, and send them out in violent rejection for their trespass. That, he is certain of; that, he must see through to its end, else he might suffer another instance of betrayal, one that he might not survive for a second time. His heart may never forgive him for it.
He reminds himself of this as he watches a form meander about the perimeter of the castle, having long leapt up into the covered darkness of a tree, crouched silently with a narrowed gaze. An abandoned picnic basket remains seated at the base of the trunk below, forgotten in his haste to learn who this stranger is — it isn’t a woman he recognizes, but that is not surprising. There are few he would know beyond the faces of his friends, long departed, and often those from the villages just beyond the thick barrier of forests know to leave the distant castle, its silhouette biting into the horizon, well enough alone.
Frowning, he watches. He assesses. He assumes that it would simple enough to scare her away, but maybe she’ll garner enough sense on her own, and seek her refuge elsewhere.]
[She's whistling a tune under her breath, trying to get the thought of the long-dead people in the front out of her head (although maybe Twisted Nerve wasn't the best for said nerves). Iona takes a deep gulp and exhales heavily; the sight did affect her more than she realized because it brought about memories from long ago, but... Yeah, no. There's no use dwelling on them, not when she has to focus on taking care of herself and getting back to Oren.
Feeling a bit sweaty and certain that there's no one around to ogle at her, the hood of her cloak is pulled back and she looks at the blank wall on the side she's moved to while running a hand through her hair.]
Alright. First thing's first, let's try the card again. [From her sleeve, she pulls out the clear card, the locater for the cafe's door. Her right arm is giving a prickling sensation once again and she frowns, slapping it with her opposite hand.
There's a brief crystalline glimmer as she does so.]
Yes, yes, I get it, probably something magical or leftovers of magical elements. I wish you'd stop itching!
[And so she focuses on holding out the locater to the wall and then turning in a circle to see if it would appear somewhere else, perhaps at the base of some tree trunk? Oh. Huh. Picnic basket.
Iona blinks and puts the card down to go over and examine it.]
So someone does live here?
[Frowning she squats down to see if there's anything left inside.]
Not sure how anyone can eat near the stunning view at the front, but I've served weirder people I guess...
[But if the basket was here and assuming there was someone around, why would they leave it behind unless...?
Iona puckers her cheeks. She's ready to admit that she's not one with much finesse, but Oren's taught her enough about being cautious when she's by herself and he isn't there to back her up. She glances back and forth and behind her.
[He watches as she mutters to herself, utilizing a card and seeking something that Alucard cannot quite decipher. He hopes that she has sense enough to leave, but proof of his existence is hard to miss when she turns her attention towards the base of that tree. The dhampir frowns.
And then Iona yells.
He doesn’t so much as react, beyond the twisting of his features into a frown, an almost-cringe. Alucard hisses air through his teeth, frustrated at her apparent brazenness, unwilling to trust that she’s up to any good, and with that—
Well, he won’t say “what”. He’ll merely leap down as quiet as a shadow, landing on his feet directly behind her. Reaching out, he extends a hand as though calling forth something hidden.]
You—
[And from behind the tree, a glimmer of silver. A shine of something sharp. A slender sword levitates, twists in the air hilt-first, and flies directly into Alucard’s waiting hand. He angles the blade at the woman’s throat.]
[The sound of metal rings in her ear as Iona leaps up from her squatting position, turns around, and is met with a thin sword at her throat. Her brown eyes are wide at this turn of events and her hands fly up automatically in surrender.]
Whoawhoawhoawhoa...!! H-Hey, you could have gone along with the joke before pointing that at me?
[The first thing that comes to mind is to grab the blade and bend it before it slashes her or impales her in the torso. Depending on who or what she's dealing with here, the sword may not be the only trick up this man's sleeve. The witch tries to register his appearance first, quickly scanning him; pale skin, pale hair and eyes, tall, and looking very menacing.]
Ore—...! Ah. Wait a minute.
[She did it again. Iona takes a deep breath to calm herself even if her heart can be heard thumping against her chest; she is alone and has to deal with this alone. She straightens herself up and puts her arms down by her side to look straight at Alucard.]
[He's certainly caught her off-guard, hopefully sending fear careening through those veins. Might be enough to scare her off, because despite himself, Alucard does not want to use this steel to pierce the soft flesh of her neck. Not unless it is absolutely necessary.
Gold-yellow eyes narrow, his teeth a flash of white as he exhibits his scowl.]
And who says I shall be generous enough to humor questions from trespassers?
[Though he's not cutting out her tongue or anything like that; Iona can decide if she wants to ask away.]
[My what, big teeth you have— Well, as much as she would like to banter back with this gentleman, Iona figures that she better stand up for herself first.
This is why she reaches for the blade, wrapping her hand around the pointed end.]
First of all...
[And she... Gently? Yes, gently pushes the sword downwards so it's away from her throat. Notably, no blood has been drawn from her palm and despite the casualness of her movement, there is way too much physical strength behind it.]
Please don't point this at me.
Second, I'm actually trying to find my way out believe it or not. Know anything about magic doors?
no subject
Abandon hope ye who enter here.
The meaning, beyond that, is clear. The lord of this castle wants visitors no longer, and he will not tolerate their presence brought upon him, and send them out in violent rejection for their trespass. That, he is certain of; that, he must see through to its end, else he might suffer another instance of betrayal, one that he might not survive for a second time. His heart may never forgive him for it.
He reminds himself of this as he watches a form meander about the perimeter of the castle, having long leapt up into the covered darkness of a tree, crouched silently with a narrowed gaze. An abandoned picnic basket remains seated at the base of the trunk below, forgotten in his haste to learn who this stranger is — it isn’t a woman he recognizes, but that is not surprising. There are few he would know beyond the faces of his friends, long departed, and often those from the villages just beyond the thick barrier of forests know to leave the distant castle, its silhouette biting into the horizon, well enough alone.
Frowning, he watches. He assesses. He assumes that it would simple enough to scare her away, but maybe she’ll garner enough sense on her own, and seek her refuge elsewhere.]
no subject
Feeling a bit sweaty and certain that there's no one around to ogle at her, the hood of her cloak is pulled back and she looks at the blank wall on the side she's moved to while running a hand through her hair.]
Alright. First thing's first, let's try the card again. [From her sleeve, she pulls out the clear card, the locater for the cafe's door. Her right arm is giving a prickling sensation once again and she frowns, slapping it with her opposite hand.
There's a brief crystalline glimmer as she does so.]
Yes, yes, I get it, probably something magical or leftovers of magical elements. I wish you'd stop itching!
[And so she focuses on holding out the locater to the wall and then turning in a circle to see if it would appear somewhere else, perhaps at the base of some tree trunk? Oh. Huh. Picnic basket.
Iona blinks and puts the card down to go over and examine it.]
So someone does live here?
[Frowning she squats down to see if there's anything left inside.]
Not sure how anyone can eat near the stunning view at the front, but I've served weirder people I guess...
[But if the basket was here and assuming there was someone around, why would they leave it behind unless...?
Iona puckers her cheeks. She's ready to admit that she's not one with much finesse, but Oren's taught her enough about being cautious when she's by herself and he isn't there to back her up. She glances back and forth and behind her.
Holding one hand up to her face, suddenly...]
LOSER SAYS, "WHAT!"
no subject
And then Iona yells.
He doesn’t so much as react, beyond the twisting of his features into a frown, an almost-cringe. Alucard hisses air through his teeth, frustrated at her apparent brazenness, unwilling to trust that she’s up to any good, and with that—
Well, he won’t say “what”. He’ll merely leap down as quiet as a shadow, landing on his feet directly behind her. Reaching out, he extends a hand as though calling forth something hidden.]
You—
[And from behind the tree, a glimmer of silver. A shine of something sharp. A slender sword levitates, twists in the air hilt-first, and flies directly into Alucard’s waiting hand. He angles the blade at the woman’s throat.]
—are not welcome here.
no subject
[The sound of metal rings in her ear as Iona leaps up from her squatting position, turns around, and is met with a thin sword at her throat. Her brown eyes are wide at this turn of events and her hands fly up automatically in surrender.]
Whoawhoawhoawhoa...!! H-Hey, you could have gone along with the joke before pointing that at me?
[The first thing that comes to mind is to grab the blade and bend it before it slashes her or impales her in the torso. Depending on who or what she's dealing with here, the sword may not be the only trick up this man's sleeve. The witch tries to register his appearance first, quickly scanning him; pale skin, pale hair and eyes, tall, and looking very menacing.]
Ore—...! Ah. Wait a minute.
[She did it again. Iona takes a deep breath to calm herself even if her heart can be heard thumping against her chest; she is alone and has to deal with this alone. She straightens herself up and puts her arms down by her side to look straight at Alucard.]
Quick question before you try to stab me though?
no subject
Gold-yellow eyes narrow, his teeth a flash of white as he exhibits his scowl.]
And who says I shall be generous enough to humor questions from trespassers?
[Though he's not cutting out her tongue or anything like that; Iona can decide if she wants to ask away.]
no subject
This is why she reaches for the blade, wrapping her hand around the pointed end.]
First of all...
[And she... Gently? Yes, gently pushes the sword downwards so it's away from her throat. Notably, no blood has been drawn from her palm and despite the casualness of her movement, there is way too much physical strength behind it.]
Please don't point this at me.
Second, I'm actually trying to find my way out believe it or not. Know anything about magic doors?