There's a moment's relief on Alucard's face for the luxury, but it fades within a moment. He ignores the papers. Forces himself to meet the inquisitor's eyes, and he holds that gaze.]
My name is Adrian Mathias Tepes. I am the last son of my family. Ten years ago, my mother and father, Lisa and Vlad, were likewise executed for the accusation of witchcraft.
They were doctors and alchemists. Our family's trade going back for four hundred years. A trade that requires some unorthodoxy to try and reveal the secrets of the world, so that we may better help people. We have done that, just as our family has done harm by accident. That is the rule of this trade: not all your patients will live. You will do everything you can but sometimes, not even that will work. You will perform experimental procedures that go wrong in pursuit of healing. Your job is to minimize their harm.
I have been alone for the past decade since my parents were killed. I have tried to do good, as they taught me to. Survived, because they would want me to. Healed those who would permit me. Experimented when I could. Bartered whatever I needed to in order to keep going. Myself when there was nothing else left.
[This won't be the confession the priest wants. He doesn't care.]
I've lived ten years on borrowed time. I've been rejected and chased out of places enough time to know that what I can offer the world is not wanted.
no subject
There's a moment's relief on Alucard's face for the luxury, but it fades within a moment. He ignores the papers. Forces himself to meet the inquisitor's eyes, and he holds that gaze.]
My name is Adrian Mathias Tepes. I am the last son of my family. Ten years ago, my mother and father, Lisa and Vlad, were likewise executed for the accusation of witchcraft.
They were doctors and alchemists. Our family's trade going back for four hundred years. A trade that requires some unorthodoxy to try and reveal the secrets of the world, so that we may better help people. We have done that, just as our family has done harm by accident. That is the rule of this trade: not all your patients will live. You will do everything you can but sometimes, not even that will work. You will perform experimental procedures that go wrong in pursuit of healing. Your job is to minimize their harm.
I have been alone for the past decade since my parents were killed. I have tried to do good, as they taught me to. Survived, because they would want me to. Healed those who would permit me. Experimented when I could. Bartered whatever I needed to in order to keep going. Myself when there was nothing else left.
[This won't be the confession the priest wants. He doesn't care.]
I've lived ten years on borrowed time. I've been rejected and chased out of places enough time to know that what I can offer the world is not wanted.
That is all I have to confess.