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[draculabutbackwards]

I have no idea if there's some future etiquette for this. Leave whatever message you choose?

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[draculabutbackwards]

Quite fascinating, actually. And infinitely better than the amateur taxidermy period.

[atowncalledtreffy]

Sorry, the amateur what?

[draculabutbackwards]

Keeping in mind I never made dinner without an anatomy lesson, it's perhaps a little less than entirely mad, but I had a notion of the idea of specimen preservation without much sense of the necessary chemistry. There were some wholly disastrous jars that had to be buried unopened.

[atowncalledtreffy]

That's...a little disgusting, I'm not going to lie. An insight into your childhood: bats and their many uses as a pale pink mush in a jar.

[draculabutbackwards]

Mostly mice, where jars are concerned. I have no idea where Father found those bats. They're fucking enormous. Knowing him he popped down to Africa or across the Atlantic to find something dramatic enough and start a colony in the attic.

[It's not often you get a chance to gross out Trevor Belmont. He's enjoying himself. He is also... tipsy, thanks to the pretty horsey.]

[atowncalledtreffy]

[he glances around and then staggers up to his feet, doing a magnificent drunk walk to the side of the room that borders Dracula’s cabin. He raps on the wall, loudly calling;]

Oy! Where’d you get your bats?!