gachabox | Vampire AU Shenanigans

[Finally Claude's hand closes over the rolling flashlight, and he whips it back up towards where the body had been-- but it's gone now. He gets to his feet, every instinct saying to get the fuck out of there, because it's not worth it.

Then a voice comes from behind him and he whips around, taking a few steps back. The stranger knows his name--

Actually, that gives Claude pause, his mind returning to the prank idea. He kept his flashlight beam on the stranger, a grin on his face but his eyes wary.] ...Alright, you got me. Very funny. Did Hilda hire you for this? How'd you get that reflective effect, some sort of contact lens?

Hilda?

[The name comes out before Sylvain can stop himself. Hilda is here too? Somehow? He wonders if he's having a nightmare, but he hasn't dreamt since he Turned.]

No, she didn't. It's me, Claude.

[He slowly turns his head, looking almost at the wall next to Claude instead of at the man himself, his eyes slowly squinting.]

[That... is not a reaction he'd anticipated. The man is acting like Claude should know him.

He lowers the flashlight beam so it's not directly in the man's face, now that he's slightly less concerned he might attack him or something. Maybe he's a fan he met at an event once or... something?]

Well... I feel like an asshole for it but I can't say I remember you.

[This feeling... this must be what it feels like when a Hunter puts a stake through your heart.]

But you... the chess board... I thought...

[He starts and stops, faltering, gesturing helplessly as he does so. At last he stops, presses his hands together, and inhales deeply. Not that he needs to, but it helps anyway.]

You look exactly like someone I used to know. And you, apparently, share his name.

[He pauses a moment, assessing the pros and cons, before turning and beckoning Claude to follow.]

I want to show you something.

The chess board? [That thing looked like it hadn't been touched in centuries-- it had just been a weird whim, making what he thought the next move would be on it.

He watched warily as the strange man seemed to flounder, then collect himself. His "excuse" of knowing someone who looks just like him and has the same name falls extremely flat. Yeah, Claude's still pretty well-convinced this is some elaborate prank or-- or something. He's just entirely uncertain what the purpose of it is.

Does this guy really just expect him to follow him?]

Okay, hold on just a minute there, dude, I don't even know your name. I know I'm trespassing and all, but I'm not the one hanging from the ceiling and-- and sneaking up behind people in the dark and shit. How do I know you're not leading me into your secret murder lair?

[It's a good thing Sylvain is looking away and Claude can't see the face journey he goes on. His voice is a little darker, a little less reserved when he speaks, though. He sighs and starts to turn back around.]

You're not going to believe anything I say. I'm going to need to show you proof to even begin to convince you of the truth.

[He does chuckle lightly at the joke. More true than Claude realizes.]

My name is Sylvain Jose Gautier. This is my house. It has been for the last millennium, since my father, the last Margrave, died.

[Claude blinks once, twice, then snorts and dissolves into laughter.]

Yeah, sure. Lookin' good for a thousand years, man! Dermatologists must hate you. What's your secret?

[He grins, fishing his phone out of his pocket.]

Seriously, though, I'm texting Hilda to tell her to call off this-- whatever this is.

[Yeah... he should have expected that. Sylvain sighs and rubs at his face, turning back to fully face Claude, crossing his arms. He always was a skeptic, this man.]

I'm a vampire.

[Might as well just out with it. Claude won't believe him, but it's even more pointless to be coy about it.]

And Hilda didn't put me up to anything. This is my house. I can show you the deed.

Riiight... [Wow, he's really sticking to this, isn't he? Either he's extremely dedicated to the act or he's... actually delusional, which would make Claude feel like a grade-A asshole. Claude likes to think he has good instincts, and they're definitely not reading danger, despite all the glaringly obvious red flags.]

Okay, you can't just drop "I'm a vampire" and then go on about deed ownership like that's the thing most needing the burden of proof.

[He pulls up the camera on his phone as he speaks, with the intent to take a picture to send to Hilda; the lighting is crap, but Sylvain is definitely visible in his flashlight beam. Only, when he checks the picture he'd just taken, it's like he's just pointing the flashlight down an empty hallway.

Okay, what the actual fuck.]

[A thousand years ago, Sylvain found Claude's constant skepticism charming. Now? It's seriously making him frustrated. Looks like some things never change, even through lifetimes.

Though he does give a little smirk at the expression Claude is giving his phone after attempting to take a picture. He steps into the man's space, peering down at the phone.]

Oh, is something wrong? Was it a bad snap? [He grins, showing fangs.] vampires don't show up in mirrors or pictures.

[He's not sure if it's because he's so baffled and distracted by his phone, or because Sylvain moves absolutely silently, but he doesn't even notice him moving in to his space until he's there. Claude tenses, instinctively taking a step away, his heart rate once more picking up speed.

Okay, a moment ago he would have immediately dismissed those fangs as obviously being a costume piece but-- how the fuck would you fake the phone thing?]

I'm surprised a supposedly millennium-old vampire knows what a cellphone is. [Fuck, okay, his voice came out at a slightly higher pitch than he would have preferred.]

[Sylvain shouldn't have stepped in so close. He can hear the way Claude's heart starts to race clear as day. He can smell the blood in his veins and it stirs something in him.

He tries to remember the last time he fed. Shit. Sylvain squeezes his eyes shut to force his pupils to behave normally.]

I live in a basement, not under a rock. What do you think I've been doing for a thousand years? How do you think I find prey? Not by waiting for hooligans to break into my house, I'll have you know.

[Sothis above he sounds like an old man.]

[Despite the creeping fear, he can't help a snort of amusement at someone who at least looks to be his age unironically using the word "hooligans".]

No offense, but I think I'm gonna need a bit more proof before I start rearranging my whole worldview due to vampires apparently being a real thing that exists.

[Yep, he's a grandpa now. Damnit.

Sylvain sighs, giving a shrug, and rolling his neck until the bones crack.]

Fine, since you insist.

[He gives his little arms a shake, and catches Claude's gaze with his eyes. Something about them seems to change, a sort of golden glow coming from within the honey-brown pupils. His charm seeps into victims through the eyes, and he makes sure he keeps Claude's attention, by reaching out and holding him gently by the chin.

He can feel his influence taking a hold of Claude's mind, wrapping it in a red haze. Even his voice sounds slightly different when he speaks, or perhaps that's just Claude's perception.]

Turn around, walk five steps, and turn back. Face me, pat your head and rub your belly at the same time.

[There's something very unworldly about Sylvain's gaze when it catches his, something that leaves him feeling like, even if he wanted to, he couldn't look away. He especially can't when Sylvain grabs him by the chin, his instincts screaming at him to look away, to at least step back, but-- he can't.

And suddenly it's like this is all there is in the whole world, just Sylvain's eyes and his voice and what he wants Claude to do. And Claude wants to do as Sylvain asks, because why would he ever want to do anything but? He can't even think to question it, he just does it. He turns around, walks five steps, then turns back towards Sylvain and does the ridiculous gestures without thought.]

[No matter how many times Sylvain does it, it's a thrill. Getting someone under his thrall, unable to resist, unable to fight. It scares him, it always has, and he hates himself for it, but it feels so good to do it. Like chasing women who will never love him, but ten times better.

Somehow, doing it to Claude, is both better and worse. He chuckles lightly at the stupid pose, taking some small enjoyment from the prank.]

Alright, that's enough.

[He beckons Claude back with a finger until he's standing a comfortable speaking distance away. Then lifts his hand and snaps, removing the trance and returning Claude's free will.]

How's that for proof?

[Claude drifts back into reach when beckoned, suddenly breathlessly aching for Sylvain's touch.

Then he snaps and Claude's own thoughts slam back into his head with the weight and speed of a freight truck, a flush belatedly rising to his cheeks as he realizes just what Sylvain made him do.

It's definitely not often that he's shocked speechless, but surely it's understandable in these circumstances. That wasn't magic, and it wasn't some strange Crest ability-- it was something else. He swallows roughly, taking a step back.

Well, at least Sylvain didn't make him really do anything, just... embarrass himself a little. But he could, and that makes Claude avoid his gaze for the time being.]

Alright. That's-- pretty solid proof. [Holy shit vampires are real.] You... said you wanted to show me something? [After all, if Sylvain wanted to force him to go along, or wanted to kill him or whatever, he certainly could right here and now. Might as well play along.]

[It hurts, to release the thrall. For one brief moment there's a look in Claude's eyes that Sylvain recognizes, and knows he let go to waste. Let slip away.

But no, this isn't that Claude. He remembers that acutely as the charm fades and Claude is left confused, and upset. Sylvain suddenly feels conflicted.]

I did, yeah. Maybe that would be too much to dump on you all at once.

[But he really, really does not want Claude to leave. No matter how painful it is to be looked at like a stranger, it's worse being alone.]

Okay but now you've made me curious.

[As unnerving as all of-- that was, something's Off with Sylvain now. He'd been so determined to shove all of his proof in Claude's face just a moment ago. There's a strange urge to reassure him, but Claude leans more on his own curiosity instead.

If vampires are real, after all, and Sylvain is telling the truth about who he is and how long he's been around... there are so many questions to be asked.]

So... I gotta ask. Do you drain people entirely when you drink from them? Or is it like donating blood?

[Nerves and guilt aside, that reaction draws a huff of laughter from him. A crooked smile plays onto his face and Sylvain seems to be looking at something nobody else can see. He should have expected that.]

Of course you are.

[His expression is strangely soft, just for a moment, before he looks away.] Fine, follow me.

[And leads Claude toward what appears to be an extremely locked door as he answers.]

I only drain them entirely if I want to kill them. Which isn't often because that's a really easy way to get caught, not to mention pointlessly brutal.

[Claude may be avoiding eye contact, but that doesn't mean he isn't examining Sylvain's expressions. He's not sure what to make of that soft look, barely there, barely noticeable before Sylvain turns away.

Against what any amount of common sense would say, Claude follows the proven vampire deeper into the abandoned-looking manor, towards a door that even he would have trouble cracking the locks on.]

Well, that's reassuring. What about all the mythos on vampires, is that all bullshit or is some of it true?

[Sylvain knows Claude well enough to know he's being watched, but it's been so long since he's been under this man's scrutiny he's nearly forgotten how to keep it cool.

He unlocks the door with practiced ease, banishing the wards on it, before the heavy door swings open to let them in. Hoping to be the least intimidating possible, Sylvain heads down first, and leaves the door open behind them.]

Most of it is bullshit. Some of it isn't. Obviously we don't show up in pictures. Sunlight weakens us but we don't sizzle like a frying pan or anything. Garlic is bullshit. Saint statues are bullshit.

[As they descend the stairs, modernity seems to mix in with history. There are electric lights, and mended bits of stone. At the bottom of the stairs is what looks like a study, or a small den, with comfortable seating- old fashioned- and modern electric lighting. There's a television and a DVD player, and shelves and shelves of books.]

[The efforts Sylvain is taking to make it Less Creepy don't go unnoticed, or unappreciated. Claude may be too curious for his own good, but he doesn't actually have a death wish.]

Do you have to sleep in a coffin that holds the dirt from your grave?

[That's mostly a joke. It's actually pretty damn charming down here, seeing modern technology intermingling with the ancient architecture and furniture. The book shelves in particular draw his interest, but that'll have to be an endeavor for later.]

[Sylvain snorts with laughter.]

No. I don't. I do like to sleep in pitch black darkness, though.

[Not that that's hard, in this ancient basement. Sylvain lets Claude take in the view, then crosses the room to another door, which he hesitates at.]

What I want to show you is in here. It's artwork. Portraits of people I knew during my natural life.

[His fingers flutter on the ornate doorknob, and he glances at Claude's face.]

You sure that's a vampire thing? [Claude chuckles, openly curious when Sylvain stops them in front of another door.

Portraits of people he knew a thousand years ago... yeah, Claude is definitely interested. Is this going to explain the whole "you look like and have the same name as someone I know" thing?]

Wait... don't tell me all those famously missing paintings from the Unification War are all in your basement.

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