At hearing that Tivadar still couldn't go through with the bloodletting, Zee rolled her eyes and wasn't shy about it. "Oh pish posh," she replied. "Our ancestors are rolling in their graves over that bullshit." Because really, it was the foundation of their family heritage to use blood in witchcraft. "Granted vampires are messy but..." she trailed off, rolling her eyes against at the whole situation. Sure, vampires had healing factors that came into play, so you had to repeatedly slice and stab until they lost enough blood that they no longer healed. But it wasn't like anyone in their family hadn't seen a sacrificial scene before - or, had been forced to participate in one.
Zoltan was a different animal completely, and perhaps her least favorite of Miklós' brothers. She didn't doubt that he'd be stepping into László's shoes the first chance he got.
Pleased that her cousin's posture was at least relaxed, she couldn't help but let her gaze be drawn to the red on the cuff of his shirt. Alarming as it was. "Mik" she said chidingly as she reached for the sleeve, her black fingers pushing the fabric aside to see the self-inflicted wound. Zee gave a small whistle for her bat familiar, which flew off out of the living room momentarily.
She wasn't a healer by any means, but with both her and Istvan's knowledge they made some pretty decent potions and salves. Luckily for her dear cousin, a healing salve just so happened to be in their current arsenal what with moving things all week.
"It's not fair for it to all fall on you," she added, half-grumbling. Zelda was well aware that, given Mik had literally performed every Expression triangle, that he was the only one who could withstand the next. If he could survive it. Her heart broke at the idea of losing him; either to the ritual itself or to the after effects.
And Niko brought the small tin quarter-sized container back into the living room, flying low and erratically because of the weight.