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Drabble: Tresore (Van Helsing, PG)
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azarias: Van Helsing, Dracula, gloves. 200 words, 20 minutes due to M coming around with her new baby.
TRESORE
The memories come faster, sharper, after the ice fortress. They lead him, finally, to a handsome building in London. There was a red shield over the door once, though he cannot tell if that was fifty or three hundred years before.
The bankers are not surprised to see him, and he wonders what other deposits they keep in their vaults over centuries. They show him to a gilt-edged, plush-covered room and leave him with the box.
His fingers remember the puzzle, the catch, the poison sting, and then the box is open.
The gloves are white, black-streaked in letters that should make no sense to him. Seals of protection, eyes to see, shapes and words to guide his hands on their path. He wears the same symbols on his kerchief now.
He remembers making the gloves. He remembers how the dried blood came to be on the fingertips.
He picks up the gloves for the first time in four centuries. He wants to put them on, but there is no going back, and there is something in the way. He still wears it, even now that he remembers taking it. The dragon guides his hand now.
With this ring, I-
azarias: Van Helsing, Dracula, gloves. 200 words, 20 minutes due to M coming around with her new baby.TRESORE
The memories come faster, sharper, after the ice fortress. They lead him, finally, to a handsome building in London. There was a red shield over the door once, though he cannot tell if that was fifty or three hundred years before.
The bankers are not surprised to see him, and he wonders what other deposits they keep in their vaults over centuries. They show him to a gilt-edged, plush-covered room and leave him with the box.
His fingers remember the puzzle, the catch, the poison sting, and then the box is open.
The gloves are white, black-streaked in letters that should make no sense to him. Seals of protection, eyes to see, shapes and words to guide his hands on their path. He wears the same symbols on his kerchief now.
He remembers making the gloves. He remembers how the dried blood came to be on the fingertips.
He picks up the gloves for the first time in four centuries. He wants to put them on, but there is no going back, and there is something in the way. He still wears it, even now that he remembers taking it. The dragon guides his hand now.
With this ring, I-
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Alucard's telling me he wants his gloves back.
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And yes, good wow. The last line...you tease.
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Meanwhile, Gabriel is curiously tight-lipped on the subject of medieval sacred brotherhood ritual. All I got out of him is that he's very grateful the full Victorian wedding concept had not been invented until four hundred years later :>
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I'll see how pushy the World Bank people are tomorrow.
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C'mon. There's a dearth of parody out there--at least in my corner of the 'Net. Don't make me resort to writing Constantine mpreg.
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...
I'll trade you :D
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I ... um ... Wow. *quiet little squees*
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You like?
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