reincarnation vampire lord | miraclewhip

[reposing]

Ultimately, what ends up being the most logical choice is the one he hates the most, but there have been many people vying for the power vacuum that Dracula had left. The greedy, the pompous, self-righteous -- too many have tried to claim the empty throne in his father's castle, and all have fallen. But the courts will never be happy to leave it vacant, and he's tired of the fighting.

So he takes it himself, crushing anyone that tries to overthrow him. Otherwise, he prefers to be merciful and benevolent, even if he loathes the politics and having to outright police the rest of the creatures of the night.

It isn't the most ideal. He sees Trevor and Sypha less than he'd prefer, wanting instead to be with them, watch their children grow, to love them. And he does, but just not as much as he'd like.

"They will die one day, my lord," one of the other vampires warn. "Would you fall into the same cycle as your father before you?"

It is a thought. Alucard knows what the intention is: to turn them into vampires like him. But he could never throw them into his world, a world of night and never having daylight. To survive as does. To truly force a Belmont into what they've hunted after all this time? Unacceptable. So he lets them live as they are, human and wonderful, until their last dying day.

And it is on that day that Alucard locks himself away from the rest of the world, deep in the earth with the crypt of his mother and father. To sleep, now that there is nothing else waiting for him alive.

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[miraclewhip]

The movement of Sophie's hands is familiar to Katalin. He's seen it before, when she tells the story, those strange gestures, miming in a way that never seemed to match up to the events of the story.

Except it did. Because the engine in the story was never the collection of metal and pumps and coal and water that he'd imagined, but this thing. And the means to control it was never levers and chains like those machines, but the motions that Sophie always made. It finally, finally clicks, now that he's not overwhelmed by the first touch of daylight on him in months, that that was how Adrian moved his hands before, when moving the castle.

(Naturally, he attempts to imitate Sophie's movements. And then thinks better of it. Not that he could move the castle accidentally, but it's still best not to risk such a thing.)

"It's strange, when it moves." He adds. That, at least, he can speak on with some authority. "The first time, I thought it must have been an earthquake, everything shook around so much. Coming here was much smoother."

[willpowerful]

"Yes. It...turns over," she says softly, because she hasn't taken her eyes off of the twenty-sided figure, and maybe it's just because that's the only way she can possibly imagine an apparatus like that working, in terms of driving a castle anywhere, but then again, maybe it isn't.

(She doesn't remember, actually, if those movements were a part of the story she'd learned. They've just been a part of it for as long as she can remember, because that's how the story goes.)

What Katalin says is curious, though, too, because she can just imagine what the castle must've looked like, shaking around the way he implies. Fighting, she thinks idly. Fighting. Struggle. Sometimes the castle wants to do things, and sometimes it doesn't. What a strange thought, that.

"The intent of the castle, you said," she remarks to Adrian, almost offhandedly. "Does the castle itself have its own will, then? Separate from yours?"

[reposing]

"In a way," Adrian answers. "When Katalin felt it move the first time, it's because I summoned it from afar. Currently, I am the castle's master, and there has only ever been one other. The closer I am to the castle, the less strain on both of us."

He looks at Sophie. "When Sypha was taking control of it, she remarked how it was fighting against her. The castle only adheres to one master at a time. Dracula's will was so deeply ingrained to the castle that, on occasion, the interior would shift as he wished it. Every few centuries he could change the interior's structure and behavior. Parts of it as alive as any creature.

"For me, I had no real desire to make any changes. It is... mostly unchanged as to what it was 300 years ago."

Well, that and Adrian has been sleep for the past few centuries, but he doesn't think he'd have shifted much.