Blood Ties

Dante had the urge to laugh and call him out on his comments, until realising yet again that the family weren't making jokes; they were deadly serious. The village was small, but he distinctly remembered the bright lights of a small village shop during his entrance into the town - surely the family didn't need to hunt for food to eat? They had to venture down to the shops at some point to fetch necessities like milk and bread, so the idea that they hunted for their meat only made Dante feel weird. He didn't like the idea of killing an animal and dragging it home to eat, though he wasn't a vegetarian. Selfishly, he liked meat - he just never wanted to get blood on his hands. The fact the family didn't bat an eyelid about it was strange, but there was no denying they were strange in general.

Right now, Dante didn't think they were dangerous or anything of the sort. They were eccentric and somewhat quirky, and he found himself liking that.

"...You hunt? Is there anything to hunt around here? Deer, I guess? A wild boar or something... Not to sound like an idiot, but it's surely easier to pop to the shops and, like, buy a pack of chicken, ain't it--"

"We don't go down to the town," explained Amelia calmly, pressing her back against the back of the chair. "We have one of the locals collect items for us and they deliver it at the start of the week. Besides, Daddy enjoys hunting, it's almost traditional for us to have it fresh. You can try it at dinner, it'll be delightful! I'm sure you'll like how Mummy prepares the meat, I doubt anyone could dislike it."

"...I mean, I'm sure it's great, but I was gonna get going after breakfast," he smiled, directing the apology mostly to Rembrandt after taking note of his eagerness. "I have to get up to Scotland in a few days, you know? I have to make it through the vales, get to a major city and get a train-- I can't miss it or my boss will be pissed."
 
"Do you really think traveling in this weather is safe?" Rembrandt questioned in a whisper, feigning a look of concern. "At least stay another night, when the weather gets better. We don't want you to get ill and keep you from your work, I'm sure one more day won't hold you back too much," he insisted his expression that of pleading.

"My son is right, I would feel personally responsible if something bad were to happen," Samuel replied, his own expression that of concern. "Please, just rest for today. Besides, we rarely get travelers as of late and it's a pleasant surprise whenever we do get company. If not, I... understand. I would just disappointed."
 
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"...There was an awful accident just last month. One of the locals got caught in the storm and from what I gathered, the wind was so ferocious it drove him off course and he ended up twisting his ankle badly. I'd hate for any harm to come to you if we could prevent it. Now, doesn't it sound much nicer to stay in the warmth of this house, enjoying some fine wine and a meal my husband caught than fighting against the elements?" Charlotte offered with a persuasive smile, having sensed the other's deliberation and, with a charming smile and a deliberate glance outside at the pouring rain, she succeeded in pushing him to a decision the family desired.

"I suppose-- god, it'd be awful if I broke my leg or something out there, and it gets dark pretty swiftly, so, uh... yeah! Yeah, another night won't bother me too much. Probably for the best. I'll have to phone my boss and explain, he wants daily updates," shrugged Dante with a faint scoff, pushing his empty plate aside. "You're all so, like... generous, y'know? It's great. Hospitable's probably the right word-- I'll write a real nice review on those hotel sites online, don't worry~"
 
"No need... though we certainly appreciate it," Samuel replied with a smile only to watch as his two older daughters hurried down, the aforementioned, homemade breakfast on their trays. Slipping each member of the family a plate of bacon, sausage, and eggs. Of course, the eggs weren't particularly interesting to the family but the meat was always fresh and homemade out of the animals their father hunted. Of course, Dante's meal had just a... few extra ingredients, all six family members looking at one another in confirmation. Samuel smiled proudly at the sight and raised his cup of tea.

"Please, enjoy breakfast," he urged before taking a sip, then cutting the food up into small pieces. As they ate, Rembrandt kept his eyes locked on Dante curiously as he gingerly ate his own food, dabbing his lips at the simplest of mess on his face. Peering around, he hid his small smile.

"I do hope you enjoy," the youngest pressed, lightly nudging him.
 
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Dante was hardly going to assume that his breakfast would make him sick, and that it had been prepared specifically for that purpose. He was starving, hearing his stomach audibly growl, so he eagerly tucked into the traditional breakfast, blissfully unaware (for now) that it would only make him feel dreadful later on, and that it was only the start. He would be fed countless meals like this over a month; or however long the family felt was necessary until he was weak enough to prey on.

For now, he obliviously tucked into the meal, stopping for a gulp of his tea, and to take in Rembrandt beside him. He thought the whole family was a little odd, but he liked them, and he felt he probably liked Rembrandt the most. He was the most interested in stories of his travels, and nothing about him seemed false; it seemed like he was genuinely curious and eager to show him around. Dante appreciated that a lot.

"Yeah, it's delicious, really... dandy," he murmured, cringing to himself at the choice of words. He was trying to use words he thought the family might use, to show he wasn't just some dumb guy, but the words didn't sound right from his mouth. From the mouths of the posh family, he thought they sounded great, but he didn't have the ability to pull it off as well as they did. "...Hey, I still get that tour of this place, right? Now I'm stuck here another day, you might as well show me around, I'm sure this place is crammed full of history-- that sort of thing interests the hell outta me."
 
“Oh, indeed. Our home is over 700 years old,” boasted Rembrandt, earning a smile from his father. “Our ancestors have been watching over this mansion. There have been renovations, naturally, but a large percentage of our home is still the original building. It’s a historical landmark though people aren’t quite interested in old buildings anymore, unfortunately,” he explained, repeating the same thing he had been told to say for the last few hundred years, having done so since the 18th century. Neatly folding his hands once he finished, he watched Dante with clear hunger, both for genuine knowledge and, naturally, actual hunger.

“Once you finish my son will give you a tour, yes,” Samuel agreed, causing Rembrandt to grow only more excited. He wand his mother were often the welcome committee, sure, but his oldest sister was usually the one granted the ability to offer a tour if requested. He wasn’t quite sure why, perhaps it was because Samuel could tell that his son was interested or maybe he was oblivious, but Rembrandt wasn’t going to complain.
 
Even though she had heard her son repeat the same explanation to visitors countless of times in the past, it never failed to bring a proud smile to Charlotte's face. She had been strict on her children over their roles whenever they did have a guest, but it was only because she cared so much about providing for them. They needed to stick to the script and she had been rather strict on them, especially at the start of their 'hospitality' venture. Clearly, that had paid off, because Rembrandt was able to be the perfect host; accommodating, friendly and eager, just as she had told him to be. She assumed it was an act, unaware that her son was genuinely curious about the visitor's travel stories.

"Maybe you could show him the library first, Rembrandt? It's the one place that tends to amaze our guests the most, I suppose. My husband and I are avid readers, I suppose our collection is a tad extreme, but we don't grow tired of curling up with a good book. It's open to our guests, so don't hesitate to take a book out. Rembrandt will show you after breakfast, I imagine."

"I... oh, that'd be awesome. My parents are huge readers too, they love books. I grew up with it; I always had a book in my hand," grinned Dante, setting his cutlery down as neatly as he could on his now empty plate, turning towards Rembrandt expectantly. "...So, you're my tour guide, huh?" He murmured under his breath for only the boy to hear, grinning playfully. "That's good, you're kinda my favourite."
 
The youngest sibling couldn’t hold back his blush at the compliment, turning his gaze away bashfully. Their family worked as a unit, all having their roles in their little act. It almost always went the same, his sisters often getting admirers before he did. It wasn’t as if it never happened but, in the hundreds of years he had been alive, he had a total of ten admirers as compared to his sisters’ combined total of at least 300. He imagined they would eventually get tired of them all but they never did, leaving Rembrandt to be left out of it all. To be told he was the favorite of Dante’s only made him grow flustered... which wasn’t a part of their plan. Once the human had finished, he offered to take his plate along with his own with a smile.

“I will wash these up proper and I can show you the library,” he reassured before slipping into the kitchen quickly to wash the plates and silverware. Once returning, he obediently waited for Dante to follow him out of the dining room to the rest of the estate. “Come, then. It’s a lot to take it and the day is only so young.”
 
"If the weather clears up, you could show me around the village too, yeah? Your sister said you don't leave, but that's an exaggeration, I'm assuming. I want to take some cute pictures of this town, it's so cute. All nestled in the valley and mountains and stuff. My readers are gonna eat this up," he grinned as he trailed behind him, taking in the sight of more pictures lining the walls, absently noticing how old some of them seemed. He wasn't going to assume that they were as old as they looked - the family were odd, so he assumed they had the pictures made to look a certain way to suit the aesthetic of the old house.

"...I doubt the weather will get better though, it seems pretty bad out there. I'm glad to be stuck in a house like this; it's a pretty good place to stay at," he continued, to fill the silence he worried would fall over them if he didn't continue to talk. "So... your family are real nice, Rembrandt. You're all so close, it's... really awesome to see, I think. And there's nothing wrong with being close together like you are. I bet your friends are real jealous of the house and the family you have, huh?"
 
“I don’t have any friends outside of my sisters,” Rembrandt admitted after making a good distance between them. He took Dante down the well-lit hallway covered in large windows that took on the village and, when it wasn’t miserable weather, was a beautiful sight. The occasional statue would line the wall in addition to the custom paintings before leading to the huge library - so large, in fact, that a ladder was needed to get to some of the books. It was incredibly cozy, a nice marble fireplace in the center with the occasional comfortable chairs scattered about close by.

“My parents aren’t very, ah... keen on making friends,” he admitted quietly before pushing the ladder to the side a bit to climb up and grab a book from the top shelf, skillfully sliding down it once grabbing one. “The bed and breakfast takes up quite a bit of our time and energy so we don’t really invite guests over, at least not anymore. That’s alright, though, I usually make friends with our guests. Granted, more often than not they’re just drifters spending the night, much like you,” he lied skillfully before motioning the other to inspect the books himself. “They’re all quite old, my great grandfather loved to collect books and so we’ve preserved them well. The medical books are fascinating, we also have books specially made for every year up until 1965 that describes the events of that year. It’s interesting to look at those and read what exactly happened, hearing events from around the world and whatnot without bias.”
 
It didn't surprise him that the other's family had no real friends, but he wisely chose not to admit that he felt that way. Instead, he made a small, non-committing noise to acknowledge he had hard him but also because he didn't quite know what else to say in response. He couldn't exactly tell him that the family didn't strike him as normal, could he?

Instead, he happily took in the sight of the large library, the room being much larger than expected, but not any less impressive. Everything about the house struck him as incredible, so he doubted that the library would be any different, though he tried to limit the amazement on his expression. He didn't want to start sounding like he was deliberately being gushing and complimentary, fearing he would come off as fake if he did so.

Though it was impossible not to admit how amazing he found the place.

"It's great, I mean-- obviously it's great, I'm just repeating what everyone's probably already said about the place," he laughed, turning to face the other with the same wide smile. "God, you're so lucky. I mean, I like my life and I love my job, but I'd give anything to, like, live somewhere like this. It's insane."
 
"As I said before, I know its nice but it just gets so boring here Dante," he admitted with a long sigh, though his brief lapse in happiness being waved off and instead replied with an eager grin, patting the spot on the couch beside him. "Oh, yes. We have the finest of china and fabrics imported from around the world but that doesn't compare to how much you've seen face to face, Dante. Our life here is actually incredibly boring, I want to know more about you. We can always ask questions about one another if you'd like, I have plenty for you," he admitted before lounging a tad.

"I do wish you would stay longer, Dante. You're so charming and... just a pleasant presence. It can get incredibly suffocating, spending all day with your family. Don't tell my mother or father but they can be incredibly demanding, it's nice to be able to escape and spend time with someone as kind as you," he gushed.
 
"Hey, we can swap phone numbers, dude. I'd be glad to update you on my travels. And if you ever get a laptop and wifi, you could check my blog and stuff. We can keep in contact, Rembrandt. I'm not knocking how you live here, but... you might want to connect with the modern world a little more? Get wifi, that'd be a good start," he recommended quietly. He didn't want to criticise how they lived, but it seemed so weird to him that they lived with the bare minimum level of technology. He realised it was because he had all the modern gadgets -besides his laptop, at least- but he still thought it was worthwhile, especially for someone like Rembrandt who showed so much curiosity in things outside his home.

"You could watch clips online about travel documentaries, yeah? You could see the whole world whilst under the duvet of your bed. There's so much out there and you can access it all online, on YouTube or whatever. I dunno, Rembrandt. I just... why don't you head out and experience it for yourself?" He questioned suddenly, turning to him with a faint smile. "...Come on, you're allowed to leave, right? Go and explore, buddy! You're old enough."
 
"I would love to, I just... don't know if it would be safe," he admitted. "I don't know if I could handle it. I've never left the house before except out on the lawn during the summer. My parents - they know what is best for me, they have more experience than I do. If I were to head out on my own, I could get lost and... hurt, or starve..." he babbled on, clearly coming up with excuses. It was a dream of his, to leave and explore the world alongside someone cute. Alas, it wasn't in the cards for Rembrandt.

"I'm not allowed to use the computer, it's for business only. As for phone, we do have one so that is something!" He added quickly, proud of the simple technology. "We only really use it to contact a few people so it isn't used very often, I would love to talk to you for your journeys. You would probably forget me, though, but still."
 
"Hey, I'm like an elephant; I never forget. We'll keep in contact, yeah? I'd love to, you seem like a good guy. And you're cute; I always make time for a pretty face, Rembrandt. It's a shame you don't want to leave the village, but that's fine, it's your life. I'm not one to judge," he shrugged, fiddling in his pocket for his pen, reaching to scribble down the digits on a tissue for him. He had no idea that he wouldn't get to be leaving, so the phone number was irrelevant. He had no reason to doubt Rembrandt and his family's intentions, so he obliviously smiled and handed the number across.

"Call me whenever you want, I'll always pick up for you. You're cool; you need to realise that, I reckon. This place is cool, your family's cool. You're all different, but that's good. World wouldn't be a good place if we were all the same, would it?" He reminded, resting back against the couch with his hands behind his head, his smile growing in continual disbelief at how amazing the whole house was.

"I'll probably get leaving tomorrow morning, before breakfast. I can't miss my train or it'd fuck this whole thing up. But if it helps, this place is the nicest B&B I've stayed at."
 
“So are you really on a strict schedule?” He questioned curiously, his head tilting. “I thought you would have a more liberal timeframe. You’re a big shot blogger, yes? How could they stop you? The idea of someone nodding you around seems ridiculous,” he admitted before getting to his feet, motioning the other to follow.

“I’ll show you the rest of the house if you’d like?” He offered. “It’s raining but I would love to show you our garden. It’s where we get most of our vegetables. My mother believes in self sufficiency since so many of the citizens seem to be uncomfortable with us.”
 
"The villagers really don't like you? I assumed it was an exaggeration. I... I don't know. That doesn't seem fair? Your family's lovely. Not many places would take in a guest at absurd hours without a reservation, you know? You folks are good people. Are you eccentric? Totally. Maybe it's that that makes the villagers uncomfortable, but it's their loss. Your eccentricities make you guys great. You're unique, that's a cool thing to be in this world," he praised, winking affectionately at the smaller man as he happily trailed behind him, soaking in everything his eyes landed on with genuine, sincere fascination. It would be easy to claim fascination just to please the other and stroke his ego, but it just so happened that he was sincere in his praises; it was hard not to be when the home was this marvellous.

"Your sister said you have a local bring items here for you, yeah? So you don't get to go to the village at all, you have stuff brought here weekly?" He questioned, finding the arrangement odd, but it fitted in with everything else about the family; nothing was strictly normal. "That's... a different arrangement? I mean, it's kinda cool, having it all delivered. Hell, I get stuff delivered to me all the time, even if I can go out and buy it in shops. It's easier getting stuff delivered, so hey, I get it."
 
“They don’t like how different we are,” he explained, his own eyes drifting to the large windows before escorting the other to another room - the drawing room. It was simple in the sense that it only held a couch facing another fireplace, beautiful dried bouquets of flowers placed along the walls in addition to artwork his mother had collected. It was the simplest room in the house.

“This is the drawing room,” he explained, motioning to the prized part of it; the large, floor to ceiling window that showed off the garden below. “My father enjoys this room the most, he can often be here when he isn’t hunting or working. It’s relaxing, watching the garden.”
 
"This is amazing-- legitimately amazing," he grinned, trying not to draw emphasis on the comment about the villagers. He knew the family were a little odd, but for a whole village to take issue was... strange in itself. It did make him think twice about the family, if only a little. If an entire village full of people kept their distance, then something had to be up with the family, right? If the only issue the village had was their eccentricities, it didn't make much sense - but Dante felt no reason to ponder too much about it. He thought he would only be in the B&B an extra day, so wasting time worrying about the family was pointless.

"Who's that? I thought I met all your family," he began curiously, pointing out a figure in the garden who, from his movements and efforts to hide behind some shrubbery, clearly didn't want to be seen by anyone - other than Amelia, it seemed, with the girl hurrying to meet him with an eager grin on her face. Dante realised quickly that the man wasn't a member of the family when he and Amelia began to kiss, his brow arching at the secret display. He assumed rightly he was a villager, and from the other information he had gathered, he also guessed correctly that the man was the one villager elected to bring items up to the family they couldn't make themselves.

"...Your sister has a boyfriend, huh? I guess your parents aren't too fond of him?" He laughed, paying the romantic display no real attention. It wasn't his business to ogle at them, even if his initial reaction was to look in once realising how handsome the man was. "Mm, he's cute; she's pretty. They make a good couple-- shame they have to hide and stuff, but I'm not poking my nose into all that."
 
"... this is news to me," admitted Rembrandt as he approached the window closer to take in the sight, a small frown growing on his lips. He wasn't going to tell on his sister, especially since she hadn't told on him in the past, but this was different. This wasn't some victim that would die soon, this was a villager that could easily break their century-long agreement. Rembrandt wasn't an idiot, he knew the basics of the rules.

"Don't mention this to my father," he quickly demanded, his hands nervously folded behind his back. Nervously peering up at the other, he kept his eyes on the sight for a moment more before quickly turning away. "Let's go upstairs, I'll show you my bedroom, yeah? I'm very proud of my collection of things. My father has given me treasures from his travels."
 
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