[While awake, he's able to dampen if not filter out his awareness of the sorcery and spellwork of others by concentrating his own. But asleep, he's defenseless. And like a cold draft, Dracula's magic creeps through stone and into the dreamless darkness behind his eyes, prodding him to consciousness, little by little, until he wakes again, hissing as he rubs his raw, heavy eyelids and drags his hands down his face. With the irregularity of his sleep schedule these days - lying down only when he's fed his devils everything he has to give and splitting headaches from long hours of intense, unbroken focus and self-neglect have interfered - it's not the first time Hector's pursuits have served as an alarm clock. He tosses aside his furs and sits up, letting himself stew in groggy bitterness a minute before making for the barred window. He knuckles away blood-grit from under his nose and shakes his head clear, looking out on the scene.
Devil Forging? On HIS lawn?
The sight of Hector below stirs up a mean desire for a bucket of bubbling pitch from the days of defending the castle from raids on the part of the church's so-called army, though more of him just wants to bury himself under his blankets for another hour and disappear from the world. Hector is doing this on purpose - of this, he has no doubt. And it's hard not to consider it a challenge, when Hector hasn't shown this much interest in devil forging since they swore their loyalty to the dark lord.
He closes his eyes, the world feeling like its spinning even while he stands perfectly still.
With the memory comes the hot sting of something approaching jealous. Inescapable.]
What do you want?
[Months of avoidance, and yet it feels like they haven't missed a beat.]
no subject
Devil Forging? On HIS lawn?The sight of Hector below stirs up a mean desire for a bucket of bubbling pitch from the days of defending the castle from raids on the part of the church's so-called army, though more of him just wants to bury himself under his blankets for another hour and disappear from the world. Hector is doing this on purpose - of this, he has no doubt. And it's hard not to consider it a challenge, when Hector hasn't shown this much interest in devil forging since they swore their loyalty to the dark lord.
He closes his eyes, the world feeling like its spinning even while he stands perfectly still.
With the memory comes the hot sting of something approaching jealous. Inescapable.]
What do you want?
[Months of avoidance, and yet it feels like they haven't missed a beat.]