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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]

I have heard French spoken and it's definitely bear language.

[atowncalledtreffy]

You don't know what the shit you're talking about.

[draculabutbackwards]

What are all those lost vowels doing there if not bear sounds?

[atowncalledtreffy]

I'm sure the French look at Wallachia with far more derision. Actually, you'd fit right into a French court. We'd have to get you a cape and some puffed sleeves.

[draculabutbackwards]

I'd ask you to imagine me at any sort of court but it's just finding the highest available point and hoping nobody looks up. Wouldn't mind the cape, though.

[atowncalledtreffy]

Well, I've never been either, and I'm a lot rougher around the edges than your polished ass.

Capes are fun. Don't know why you don't wear one more often.

[draculabutbackwards]

I think the coat suited better, but the damn pirates got that one.

[atowncalledtreffy]

Hah.

I have an extra one if you want it. The cuffs and sleeves are bigger, you might have to take it in if you wanted your usual skin-tight bullshit.

[draculabutbackwards]

[A very slight pause as he processes that, pushes the processing aside, and chooses, as usual, to be a flippant asshole instead.]

Yes, far better to enter a fight where you use a fucking whip and have your cuffs get caught in the thing.

[atowncalledtreffy]

Have I ever gotten caught on my own weapon?

The answer is no. Also, I don't fight in capes, as you may have noticed.

[draculabutbackwards]

It did always seem like asking for trouble, but I think that's the point. Show everyone you're not worried about having to bother.

[atowncalledtreffy]

Until some enterprising asshole comes along and steps on it while you're trying to walk around.

[draculabutbackwards]

I think if you're father you just rip that asshole's spine out. Historically, anyway. I wasn't really around for those bits.

[atowncalledtreffy]

Ugh. Your dad.

He's being weird.

[draculabutbackwards]

What's he done now?

[He chooses to simply ignore the absurdity inherent here.]

[atowncalledtreffy]

Nothing. He's just...

I hate to say it. He's acting weirdly paternal.

[draculabutbackwards]

Oh. Yes, turns out he'll do that. Hunter ought to just give up and change his name, and Rags is just as caught.

[atowncalledtreffy]

I mean with me.

[draculabutbackwards]

Yes, that was just the precedent. Nothing I can do to save you.

[atowncalledtreffy]

But it's weird, right? Can't we agree it's fucking weird?

I mean. I killed him. We killed him. I'm supposed to hate him.

[draculabutbackwards]

To that particular point, I honestly don't think he cares? He understands now why it had to go the way it did. I think he understood then. And you're a Belmont. It'd be like holding shoe-chewing against a dog.

...But yes. It's a bit weird every time.

[atowncalledtreffy]

Really wish you and your family would stop calling me a dog.

[draculabutbackwards]

It was the first acting according to its nature metaphor that occurred. If you prefer, one wouldn't take personally an eagle dropping fish all over your garden.

[atowncalledtreffy]

Can you get him to knock it off? Or suggest a way to stop him, shy of attempted murder?

[draculabutbackwards]

You're asking exactly the wrong person. Why would I have ever tried to get him to stop? Leaving aside certain sixteen-year-old outbursts that everyone would like to forget.