[A second clatter and even more yelling isn’t enough to shatter the terrible reverie he’s found himself lost in. Eyes planted to the skyline, an endless row of looming, lurid lighted structures, like the line of teeth belonging to some hungry organism. If he lowers his gaze, down past the false lanterns, he’s surrounded by far too many people, dressed in strange clothing, lost in laughter and conversation, and all of feels like a lucid dream — or some kind of surreal, waking nightmare.
His confusion regarding what’s happened, where he is, becomes so poignant that his mental distress is interpreted by his implant as a desire to bring up a map of the city; it stutters to life and unfolds a virtual chart of New Amsterdam that can only be seen in his vision, and sharp eyes widen in surprise, unable to parse the massive, sprawling, spider-webbing thing.
A few moments more and he could reason out that it is a map. A few moments more and he could quell that needle of panicked disorientation rising in his gut, and center himself around a calm head. But Heine doesn’t grant him a few moments more; instead, he jabs him in the ribs with a finger. A normally irritating gesture, but given Alucard’s reeling state? He lashes out.
Turning around with surprising quickness, he makes an attempt to reach out and clamp a hand around Heine’s wrist. Hissing out air between his teeth, his vision still mottled with the endless lines of a map, Alucard is quick to pull that grip forward and tries to twist it, should he be so successful.]
no subject
His confusion regarding what’s happened, where he is, becomes so poignant that his mental distress is interpreted by his implant as a desire to bring up a map of the city; it stutters to life and unfolds a virtual chart of New Amsterdam that can only be seen in his vision, and sharp eyes widen in surprise, unable to parse the massive, sprawling, spider-webbing thing.
A few moments more and he could reason out that it is a map. A few moments more and he could quell that needle of panicked disorientation rising in his gut, and center himself around a calm head. But Heine doesn’t grant him a few moments more; instead, he jabs him in the ribs with a finger. A normally irritating gesture, but given Alucard’s reeling state? He lashes out.
Turning around with surprising quickness, he makes an attempt to reach out and clamp a hand around Heine’s wrist. Hissing out air between his teeth, his vision still mottled with the endless lines of a map, Alucard is quick to pull that grip forward and tries to twist it, should he be so successful.]