Ow. I don't think I like my Julius characterization.
---
"Mina?" The gruff voice called out as the doorbell was rang in an impatient, harried fashion.
"Coming, Coming!" The redhead woman called out as she rushed to the door, as Benji hurriedly locked up the liquor cabinet, and downed a shot of bourbon. It was fortunate that the caller had caught them at the start, or else who knows what they've said in the drunken state.
"Mr. Belmont!" Mina exclaimed – obviously surprised to see the tall, middle-aged brunette at the door. "Please, come this way, Soma said we should've been expecting you."
"So he did." Julius murred, unconsciously stroked his goatee as he gently pushed away her efforts to relieve him of the worn, leather-trimmed trench coat. "I'm fine, Now would someone please tell me the exact nature of what's going on?" The gray-hazel eyes crinkled with the odd blend of amusement and agitation.
"Mina, is it safe?" An uncertain baritone called out as the sound of things being put away and things put into place reached the vampire hunter's ears. Immediately a concerned – no, paranoid frown creased along the older man's lips as he glanced toward the now rather sheepish young lady.
"Who is that?" He whispered low and inquisitively, his fingers unconsciously brushing against one of the many little vials and weapons concealed under his heavy coat.
"Uh, that's one of Soma's friends… he helped him get as far as here." She shuffled her feet, almost flinching from that studious, almost disappointed glare.
"How much does he know?" Julius whispered again.
"Not a lot, I'm certain." She grabbed him by a thick, almost knotty wrist and drug him into the den, where the long-limbed, but yet stocky half-Indian was settling on the couch, his brownish eyes looked up cautiously.
"Uh… Hello?" Benji swallowed, this man… powerful despite his age (Then again, in this era, Sixty is the new Thirty, he reminded himself), with sleek muscles coiled under sun-battered and undoubtedly scar-laced flesh. But it wasn't that made his throat dry, it was a completely different feeling then he had with either the Arikado guy Soma left with, or Soma himself… he felt… terrified, to be frankly honest. It was the way the man walk with the slow ease of a Siberian Grizzly, the feeling of some force… something almost ungodly behind every cautious glance, every twitch of the hand. Of course, Arikado did scare him with the Ice Princely aloofness, and his panther-like sleekness, but somehow… the younger man had a feeling that perhaps this human is perhaps more dangerous to him.
"What is your name?" The voice was deceptively calm, only the keenest of hearing can sense the edge to the words. Interrogation without interrogating.
"Benji Tsukiyobi." He rested his hands in his lap, looking up as his shoulders hunched together, it was bad enough he was much younger then this man, but he was almost eight inches shorter (with Julius being an almost incredible six foot four inches), it didn't help soothe his feeling of unease. "And… you?" He knew that if he had more 'cupped' ears, they would've been laying back against his head just about… now.
Mina cut in, sensing both the Belmont's concern, and the young man's alarm. "Julius Belmont, he helped Soma a few days ago, do you want some coffee, or tea?" She almost cooed, throwing both men off-balance. This wasn't the naïve young girl that Julius has gotten to know in the true castle, she seemed more… devious now. "Is Yoko with you, or did you came alone?" She smiled, trying to create nice conversation.
"I'd rather have a shot of whiskey, but coffee will do." He slid into the old, overstuffed chair that the Dhampire had occupied a few days earlier. "I actually did came alone, Yoko got tied up in Papal Bureaucracy." He rested his strong jaw on his dominant hand; the other tapped restlessly on the wooden armrest, looking everywhere and nowhere at once, as though he was focus upon something no human eye could ever detect unaided.
Papal? As in… the pope? The smaller man thought as he unconsciously glanced around the Belmont's neck, no white collar, but it doesn't mean anything… does it? He watched warily as Miss Hakuba left the room to take a carafe of coffee from the kitchen.
"How did you know Soma?" The voice; low and ominous had an almost guttural quality – Batman, eat your heart out, The American laughed nervously in his head.
"Cross? Ah—"
"Cross?" Julius had to quirked a brow, well, 'Cruz' did mean as much, but it's not something one picked up often. And it was quite amusing… almost ironic that the vessel of Dracula's dark powers had such a 'holy' surname.
"Err… I kind of mispronounced his name when I first met him, and it kind of stuck." Weak laughter emanated as he rubbed the back of his neck, then it was cut off abruptly, seeing that the stranger did not seem to find it all that funny. "College – same dorm hall, we hang out a few times." He shrugged, as Mina returned with three mugs, and the carafe. "Uh…" He shifted in his seat. "Something really weird had happened, there are these jerks – Rugby players, they're always after us non-sporting types, as if it's high school… and something happened, they found those guys all busted up and blood all over Soma."
Julius somehow managed to pale; he had only recently entered Japan and had not heard of this. "What happened? Tell me more."
"I don't really know, I came to the scene late, a flagpole was snapped almost in two, and there's… a lot of blood, a lot of it." He nearly retched. "One guy died… poison I think, it was so nasty… pus and—"
"Okay, I think that's enough of that." Julius raised his hand. "Where is he now?"
"We don't know, Julius, Arikado and Soma left the day before yesterday." Mina sat down; her amber eyes warm with concern.
"Then he's safe for now." The man's ponytail swished faintly as he turned to assure the woman, then level a gaze at Benji.
"Hey…" He felt the hair on the back of his neck prickled. "I really don't want anything to hurt Cross either." He started to get up to find another room. "I'll leave you two alone, sheez."
----
Yamato watched impassively as the cloaked form known as Death glide without effort, the small, almost fragile looking feet barely touching the ground as the spirit trace some forgotten path along the ruined temple, buried within the mountains of the region. With the most feline of precision, he watched, the eyes of ice-sheathed gold flickered at the slightest of movement, with every arc of the bony scythe, even when a hair somehow moved out of place.
Death was… intriguing. The raven-haired ronin mused, as he remained crouched, a clawed hand pressed against the moist, moss-covered earth, the other resting easily upon his knee.
Orlox seemed less attentive, tapping his foot impatiently, his colorless lips curled into a sort of pout that the Japanese native would've expected from an undisciplined child. The Gaki wondered if The Nosferatu is indeed this impudent, or if he is the world's greatest chameleon.
From the great, billowing sleeves of liquid shadow countless sickles of bronze and rust-colored tendons flew like hungry crows at the walls of the desecrated ruin, lining each and every individual tear, doorway, window, and other opening without fail, without a stray shot.
Pulsating tendons crawled from the sickles, lashing over the paper walls, and wooden pillars like a net, thickening, thinning.
Now… that was disgusting! Yoarashi Yamato turned his head away, almost blanching, tongue sticking out just a few centimeters. "May I ask about the purpose of this little… display?"
"Spirits are drawn to unholy places." The dark little grin was more in the liquid eyes then on the frozen mouth.
"That much is obvious." The man tossed strands of his inky hair from his moonstone-hued face. He raised a hand to shield his eyes as a brilliant flash of scarlet light sheared through the bindings of the fleshy 'net'. He blinked, for his eyes had dilated into narrow slits, and it had grown dark almost immediately after the sudden show of light. "Explain that, O master of arcane arts." His voice dripped with annoyed sarcasm as he rose to his full height, the koi-bedecked yukata settled against his figure, the Katana is now the only thing that gleamed in the pale starlight.
"Death is the one source that binds them together, this temple… was desecrated, am I right?" The Germanic vampire tossed back a stringy strand of iron-gray hair, his long rat-like nose almost twitching.
"Yes…" A strange tone seeped into the normally impassive voice. "I've been here when it happened." And died here, he added to himself, as he forced himself to gaze at the ruins. Tendons turned to bloody flesh, wood to bones of some long forgotten giant, as it seemed to breathe harshly, shuddering like a chained beast. Death cut through the cording that sealed the door from the outside world – blood pooling on the ground as the tendons snapped with an uncomforting rabbit-like shriek. "You're binding Death to here…?"
"Exactly, to draw in the wondering spirits." He crossed his arms over his chest as they watched the life-taker cross the threshold, the delicate - almost bony hands brushed over the flesh soothingly, and a low lilting voice singing in a language known to no human, and no human could ever make sense of it's stirring, hypnotic rhythm.
"And thus lure the Dhampire and the youth?" The Gaki mused as he listened to the melody. "What is it that he sings?"
"A song of mourning, apparently. I did not know he even had the voice for song."
"They say even a Swan sings when dying," Yoarashi Yamato purred as he turned from the gruesome site and moved down the mountainside with the grace of a hunting cat.
"Cats… can't do a thing with them!" Orlox cursed as he followed after, almost skeletal arms folded over the chest.
---
"Benji, May I ask why you got a skinned cat in your backpack?" Julius held up a russet-colored hide of a short-tail cat.
The teen just stood in the doorway, his mouth slightly parted in shock. "Wha… what are you doing in my room?" He finally choked out as he looked at the Vampire Hunter, and the belt.
"There were things that didn't seem quite right…" was the man's reply as he continued emptying out the pack, allowing a few notepads, a Norihun, a few sample bottles of rum, small bags of crushed flowers, a pocket knife, and numerous pencils to spill on the comforter. "And as a friend of Soma's, I had to make sure." Again he turned focus from the bed to the pelt he had removed earlier.
"I'm his friend too!" Benji snatched the hide from the man's hands, his eyes smothering in rage. "And it's a Lynx pelt, not a skinned cat!" He held the item close to his chest as if it was dear to him. "Look… Don't take my things out – Okay, I admit I'm a change-shifter of sorts, but that doesn't mean I want to hurt anyone."
"A change-shifter?" The Belmont questioned as he summoned the old magic in his blood, and teleported into the doorway.
"I said I don't want to hurt anyone…!" The young man held the skin closer to him, eyes wide with alarm.
"Honestly?" Julius closed the gap quickly with his long strides. "Perhaps you are telling the truth, then again – you could be trying to harm him – as that you haven't been quite open, I'm not inclined to trust you so readily."
"…What would you think they said if I told them I was a Yeldnalooshi? There's just things you just can't say on first meeting."
---
Soma groaned, eyes opening slowly. "Mmmh…?" The albino started to rise up, but was forced to remain by some heavy straps that bound him to the mattress. "What…? Arikado! Genya Arikado! What's going on!"
"Sssssh… Young Master is resting, Master." A tiny, whispering voice brushed against his ear. Then a weight settled on his chest. It was a small little imp about the size of a kitten with black-violet scales, curved antelope-like horns, tiny wings, and a mauve underbelly, his beady button eyes looked over the young man, bowing respectfully.
"Master? Oh never mind, Okay – why am I tied up, Imp?" Soma glared at the thing most venomously, and knew himself well enough that if he weren't tied to the bed, he would've turned the thing into a messy little snowflake on the far wall in a heartbeat.
"For your protection, Master – You were crying for the Mistress, and he were afraid you be lured by nasty, nasty walking-dreams." The Imp wringed its hands frantically, shaking its wedge-shape head just so – like a midwife mulling over a disappointing delivery.
"Look, One, I am not your master, Two – it's called Sleep-walking you nimrod, and Three, Who the hell is this Mistress?" He laid his head against the pillow again, still rather groggy, and far too easily agitated.
"You don't know the Mistress? But… Master, The Mistress is who you love, who is mother to the young Master – how could you forget the Mistress?" The small creature squealed in horror, yanking at the black cotton fabric that peeked between the straps. "Have the spell that made you young made you forget?"
"For the last time, I am not your Master!"
"Constine – Get off of Soma," Arikado stood in the doorway, seeming to fill it despite his slenderness. He petted the infernal being as it leapt into his arms, and curled like a kitten would. "You know, Soma – you are quite loud when you sleep."
"Would you untie me? Or do you have sick bondage fantasies you are not telling me?"
"Very well, now that you are awake, I suppose you do need to get up." The Dhampire leaned over, the deft hands unfastening the leather straps as Constine scampered and settled on his shoulder, watching with owl-like eyes. "I'm certain you also wish to know where you are."
Soma glanced about as he took in the surroundings; the old golden oak-panel walls had obviously seen better days as did the heavy velvet drapes that either concealed the dusty, overflowing bookshelves, or windows that in his mind would no doubt be either barred or covered by shudders – the only light in this room was a large wrought iron candelabra on the maple dresser, and a large wheel-like chandelier above the thick hunter green canopy of the bed. To his crystalline eyes, there seem to be no sign of any sort of modern conveniences – such as electricity had ever grace this room at any point in it's life. The young man also had a sneaking suspicion that this wasn't the typical décor of the rich and influential in Japan.
"Now that you mention it, I do – We're still in Japan, right?"
"Not exactly, Soma." The Dhampire settle next to the young man, his honeyed eyes looking at him with an almost brotherly concern.
"If this is going to be story time, spare me – I had my fill of who I am, what I am, and how I can fuck up the world, and I don't need any more of it, especially not from you." He turned away with a huff, his mind brewed angrily on a memory he had wished he had forgotten.
"In hindsight, I should have warned you." His voice was cool, and flat as it seemed to have always been, but his expression seemed to have softened. "But I was uncertain as to how you would've responded, and I had thought keeping you ignorant would have offer you protection from Jones until you gain strength."
"What difference would it had made?" Soma turned, fists pounded into the bed, eyes blazed like blue fire. "I still would've killed Graham Jones – he would've still tried to kill me for 'stealing his souls'…" He left out a sudden, sharp bark of laughter, full of mirth and disgust, as the irony had finally dawned on him. "He was the thief, not me… so by his logic… I had the right to kill him…." The laugh died in his throat, and he sighed. "It was inevitable -- no matter what I did, or you did, or anyone else did – it would had have happened anyway, would it?"
"Prophesies had been broken before – I had seen it happen, however – I do not believe that would have happen in your case, you are too heavily marked as one of destiny, a Marienkind of sort." The son of Dracula eyes shut tightly, as he listened to the settling of the house, the beating of Soma's heart, the whispering wind outside, and knew aside from them, they were alone.
"Christ-Child? More like Anti-Christ." He smirked wryly, "Now – did you wish to protect me because I was the 'vessel' or because you like me? And don't lie to me." His eyes narrowed, brows knitted together as he watched the taller man.
"For me, it was merely a precaution to prevent my Father's return at the first, but I could not help but admire your resolve."
"And you artfully answer without giving much information as always." Soma Cruz sneered as he rose from the bed. "Okay, give me the straight answer for once, how are you going to clear my name with the murders – if that is your intention at all, and how is staying here suppose to protect me?" He folded his arms across his chest – reminding Adrian of how his Father would stand just moments before some unfortunate servant would meet a grisly end for incompetence.
"Sit down." Arikado ordered with such an aura of authority that it startled the young man to obey without a peep. "If you would have patience I will tell you."