[Alucard tenses suddenly. In a flash, he's at the door, and once it's open, he's a bat. A bat that barrels down the corridors of the ship, knowing exactly where the coffin is because that sword has such a draw to him that it may as well just be a tether.
He doesn't squeak. He just moves swiftly through the boat, aware that he needs to move fast. Very fast.]
[ The last thing he has. The tiny, fragile last thing he has is flying away into a boat they know is dangerous for him. What the fuck. What the fuck. He gives chase, because what else can he do?
That presence is back, growing closer and closer as Alucard approaches the coffin. ]
Fucking figures. The Belmont finally leaves this thing and it’s empty. [ There’s a crash. Glass breaking. ] The fuck am I meant to do with just a sword? I have swords!
[ And when Alucard gets close to where the coffin was, the floor is covered in glass. A red haired man in a uniform stomps on one of the lilies, then spits on it for good measure. ]
[Alucard smells Godbrand before he sees the vampire. It's hard not to, given how distinct the man's natural musk and...everything...is. And so Alucard lands in the doorway, every inch as immortal and youthful as any other vampire. Still Dracula's son, because he manages to project his presence around the room just as Dracula himself might have.
His rage is muted though. Something to bring up only once it must be used.]
Good evening, Godbrand.
[He extends a single hand, and the sword finds it's way there without fail.]
First, Godbrand gives a wet-sounding cough. That body slam alone definitely crushed parts of him that should not be crushed. Then the knife slides between Alucard’s ribs, biting into the flesh there.
Then, Trevor bursts through the door and without missing a beat snatches up one of the boards from the broken crate, advancing on Godbrand. No whip, no problem. ]
[Alucard hisses in pain when the knife slides in, but the proximity to Godbrand is a good thing. He pivots on the knife itself, using his own sword and the awful angle he's on to stab through Godbrand's foot.
It means pinning him to the floor. It means making it hard to escape.]
[ Trevor moves, drawing one of his own knives at well as the board. And then he freezes. He freezes because Godbrand has that knife to Alucard’s throat now.
It’s not long enough to cut off the head in one swipe, he understands distantly. There’s no way Godbrand could be using it, were it consecrated or silver. That is a shitty hostage to take, because even if Godbrand were impossibly lucky, that knife can’t kill him before Trevor can get to them both.
He understands it distantly. He still steps back. ]
The weapons. Drop them.
[ And he does. Godbrand tugs his foot from the sword with a hiss of pain, throwing Alucard off him with a grunt of effort. And then he is gone. In his place, a large frigatebird flies part Trevor and out of the door. ]
[The moment that the knife grazes Alucard's throat, he only has one thought.
They kept me at rest for too long.
He'd have better judgement if he wasn't just awoken. If he had centuries to improve and prepare. Losing a fight against Godbrand? Well that's just sad, and Alucard does what he can to at least put a little pressure on the sword as a private fuck you.
Then Trevor complies and Alucard doesn't know why. Too late. He's in a pile of limbs, the bird flying past them. Alucard tries to follow, trying to run past Trevor.]
[ He’s shaken. He doesn’t know why he’s shaken. That’s the least scary fight with a vampire he’s has in a long time, and yet his legs barely feel like they can hold his weight. His stomach feels similarly uncertain about holding his supper. Alucard pushes past him, and that brings him back to reality somewhat. ]
Yeah. Shit, yeah. Get back here, ugly bird.
[ And he tries, giving chase, throwing knives coming close, but eventually Godbrand passes through a door’s keyhole as mist, vanishing onto the deck. Whatever sensation there was indicating the presence of other vampires, it’s fast vanishing. Trevor leans back against the door, sliding down it with a sigh. ]
[Mist is the moment that Alucard is stymied, and not a moment before. Shifting to a wolf, his great jaws snapped at the bird, almost getting it dragged down once or twice. And yet...
...fuck. Alucard's hand is on the door, and he looks down at Trevor. Worry crosses his face.]
[ Outside of the door, visible through the keyhole, a member of the crew works in the darkness. A thread of white mist is wrapped around his throat, growing more and more transparent as the ugly bird flies away. Another hostage. One he can actually hurt this time. ]
He took some of my blood, Belmont. The knife he had, there was an apparatus attached. I don't know why he'd want it, or what someone like Godbrand could gain from it, which makes me believe he is not working alone. Whoever he is collecting blood for means far greater harm.
[ He tries the door. It opens, and he mumbles something about seasickness to the worker as the last threads of mist pass from around his throat. Nothing. He’s gone. He thanks the man for letting him get fresh air and returns to Alucard. ]
You’re sure it was to take blood from you, not to poison you or some shit?
[ He’s fucked up. He fucked up, letting Godbrand get away. He doesn’t know what to do about that now. All he can do is make control what damage is under his control. ]
[They're on deck at least, and Alucard's eyes lock onto the direction that the bird went. Nothing now. Alucard can't fight in the air, because to plummet into the sea? He'd actually drown, considering he needs air.]
[ He can’t answer that. He just trails off. His body feels like lead, nothing’s managed to scare him this badly in a long time. He counts time by the crashes of waves. It’s six waves later when he just pretends he didn’t hear the question. He has a question of his own. ]
...who are you, that makes your blood so important?
I am Adrian Tepes, once known among the Wallachians as Alucard. My father was Vlad Dracula Tepes.
[It's said with Alucard's eyes on the skies rather than fixed upon Trevor. It is easier speaking of it without looking at Trevor.]
You grew up learning of my father's death, I'm sure. I assisted your late aunts and whoever your grandmother was among them in the matter, at the near cost of my life.
[ He looks like he's about to say something - that isn't the version of events he grew up with. That isn't at all the version of events that he grew up with. ]
Shit. I-
[ Whatever he was going to say, whether it was 'so I was under the impression that Great Aunt Juliet killed you' or 'so hey about that Wallachia thing, you need to update your geography', it doesn't matter. Not compared to the weight of the situation. ]
[Alucard falls silent, and upon his face is a dawning horror. It is a slow thing, all gears in his mind turning, turning, turning and then all at once he understands.]
They may intend to bring him back. That's why whoever is ordering Godbrand around, which in and of itself is a remarkable matter, would need my blood.
[ He slides to the ground again, head sinking into his hands. ]
This was a trap. I thought it was just bad fucking luck that we got on the vampire boat, but this was a fucking trap and I just walked into it and dragged you along, and- fuck.
[ He wants to ask what to do. It wouldn't be the first time that he's asked the man in the coffin what the fuck he should do. But before, it was always just a way to ask himself. Now Alucard's alive, and his presence is a lot less of a comforting constant. He can't ask. He just has to force himself to stop babbling and focus, the same way he always had, just without a cold, dead, answering body prompting him. ]
Nothing's changed. Not yet. The London business still comes first. I can't do anything about Dracula, not unless I know more. Spring Heel is hurting people now, and that has to take priority. Once that's dealt with, once whoever the fuck is bossing the captain around makes a move- I'll figure it out then.
[ He takes his head from his hands, leaning it back until it hits the wall behind him. ]
[ He moves, holding himself differently. Slightly more confidently. ]
There was an outbreak of sickness in London, maybe- twenty years ago now. It was- bad water, something like that. The problem is that the symptoms of it were a little like the early stages of turning. We had- other shit to deal with. Assumed it was just the disease. It wasn’t.
[He remembers the medical wisdom of his father. How he and his mother would talk of it late into the night. It's fine. That doesn't hurt and--]
How is London not completely dominated by vampires then? Given the feeding habits, any city shouldn't be able to sustain that many vampires in one place.
I don't know. I didn't know that the outbreak was being used to hide turnings until I talked to the speaker. All the information we've been able to get until recently is that London is the territory of only one vampire, and that any other vampire who tries to enter his territory vanishes. [ We've. He's not referring to him and Sypha there. He's still pretending that there is more than just him. Shit's less scary that way. ]
Which is why there was only ever one group of hunters for the seat of an empire. Only one vampire. Never had contact with them, but- we like to keep an ear out for news of each other. They've been dragged off to jail for ritualism, all of them, and all of them have died there. Spring Heel's lived with them harassing him for decades now, if he's finally having all of them killed at once he has to be planning something.
[Alucard listens. Listens carefully. Nods to show he's registering everything, but there's still so much he's missing. Spring Heel sounds like a bad vampire name, but that could just be the trend now. The idea of one hunter per empire must have happened some time ago. Ritualism is something he doesn't know at all, but it seems awfully lucky for whoever this Spring Heel is.
Then he shakes his head.]
Belmont, I'm sorry, but if my hunch is correct then this situation is nothing in the light of returning my father to this earth.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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He doesn't squeak. He just moves swiftly through the boat, aware that he needs to move fast. Very fast.]
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[ The last thing he has. The tiny, fragile last thing he has is flying away into a boat they know is dangerous for him. What the fuck. What the fuck. He gives chase, because what else can he do?
That presence is back, growing closer and closer as Alucard approaches the coffin. ]
Fucking figures. The Belmont finally leaves this thing and it’s empty. [ There’s a crash. Glass breaking. ] The fuck am I meant to do with just a sword? I have swords!
[ And when Alucard gets close to where the coffin was, the floor is covered in glass. A red haired man in a uniform stomps on one of the lilies, then spits on it for good measure. ]
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His rage is muted though. Something to bring up only once it must be used.]
Good evening, Godbrand.
[He extends a single hand, and the sword finds it's way there without fail.]
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[ Godbrand looks Alucard up and down, taking a single knife. It’s an odd looking thing, with a glass bulb attached to it. ]
I’d appreciate it if you could stay still, just for a moment.
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[And so Alucard does the only thing that can be done here: dodges left to avoid the knife, and proceeds to bodyslam Godbrand as only a vampire can.]
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First, Godbrand gives a wet-sounding cough. That body slam alone definitely crushed parts of him that should not be crushed. Then the knife slides between Alucard’s ribs, biting into the flesh there.
Then, Trevor bursts through the door and without missing a beat snatches up one of the boards from the broken crate, advancing on Godbrand. No whip, no problem. ]
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It means pinning him to the floor. It means making it hard to escape.]
Belmont!
[Move but fast!]
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It’s not long enough to cut off the head in one swipe, he understands distantly. There’s no way Godbrand could be using it, were it consecrated or silver. That is a shitty hostage to take, because even if Godbrand were impossibly lucky, that knife can’t kill him before Trevor can get to them both.
He understands it distantly. He still steps back. ]
The weapons. Drop them.
[ And he does. Godbrand tugs his foot from the sword with a hiss of pain, throwing Alucard off him with a grunt of effort. And then he is gone. In his place, a large frigatebird flies part Trevor and out of the door. ]
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They kept me at rest for too long.
He'd have better judgement if he wasn't just awoken. If he had centuries to improve and prepare. Losing a fight against Godbrand? Well that's just sad, and Alucard does what he can to at least put a little pressure on the sword as a private fuck you.
Then Trevor complies and Alucard doesn't know why. Too late. He's in a pile of limbs, the bird flying past them. Alucard tries to follow, trying to run past Trevor.]
Come on, that form is perfectly vulnerable!
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Yeah. Shit, yeah. Get back here, ugly bird.
[ And he tries, giving chase, throwing knives coming close, but eventually Godbrand passes through a door’s keyhole as mist, vanishing onto the deck. Whatever sensation there was indicating the presence of other vampires, it’s fast vanishing. Trevor leans back against the door, sliding down it with a sigh. ]
...shit.
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...fuck. Alucard's hand is on the door, and he looks down at Trevor. Worry crosses his face.]
Belmont, is something wrong? We don't have time.
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[ Outside of the door, visible through the keyhole, a member of the crew works in the darkness. A thread of white mist is wrapped around his throat, growing more and more transparent as the ugly bird flies away. Another hostage. One he can actually hurt this time. ]
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He took some of my blood, Belmont. The knife he had, there was an apparatus attached. I don't know why he'd want it, or what someone like Godbrand could gain from it, which makes me believe he is not working alone. Whoever he is collecting blood for means far greater harm.
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[ He tries the door. It opens, and he mumbles something about seasickness to the worker as the last threads of mist pass from around his throat. Nothing. He’s gone. He thanks the man for letting him get fresh air and returns to Alucard. ]
You’re sure it was to take blood from you, not to poison you or some shit?
[ He’s fucked up. He fucked up, letting Godbrand get away. He doesn’t know what to do about that now. All he can do is make control what damage is under his control. ]
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[They're on deck at least, and Alucard's eyes lock onto the direction that the bird went. Nothing now. Alucard can't fight in the air, because to plummet into the sea? He'd actually drown, considering he needs air.]
Why did you do what he said?
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[ He can’t answer that. He just trails off. His body feels like lead, nothing’s managed to scare him this badly in a long time. He counts time by the crashes of waves. It’s six waves later when he just pretends he didn’t hear the question. He has a question of his own. ]
...who are you, that makes your blood so important?
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[It's said with Alucard's eyes on the skies rather than fixed upon Trevor. It is easier speaking of it without looking at Trevor.]
You grew up learning of my father's death, I'm sure. I assisted your late aunts and whoever your grandmother was among them in the matter, at the near cost of my life.
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Shit. I-
[ Whatever he was going to say, whether it was 'so I was under the impression that Great Aunt Juliet killed you' or 'so hey about that Wallachia thing, you need to update your geography', it doesn't matter. Not compared to the weight of the situation. ]
So this is Dracula bullshit. Fuck.
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[Alucard falls silent, and upon his face is a dawning horror. It is a slow thing, all gears in his mind turning, turning, turning and then all at once he understands.]
They may intend to bring him back. That's why whoever is ordering Godbrand around, which in and of itself is a remarkable matter, would need my blood.
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[ He slides to the ground again, head sinking into his hands. ]
This was a trap. I thought it was just bad fucking luck that we got on the vampire boat, but this was a fucking trap and I just walked into it and dragged you along, and- fuck.
[ He wants to ask what to do. It wouldn't be the first time that he's asked the man in the coffin what the fuck he should do. But before, it was always just a way to ask himself. Now Alucard's alive, and his presence is a lot less of a comforting constant. He can't ask. He just has to force himself to stop babbling and focus, the same way he always had, just without a cold, dead, answering body prompting him. ]
Nothing's changed. Not yet. The London business still comes first. I can't do anything about Dracula, not unless I know more. Spring Heel is hurting people now, and that has to take priority. Once that's dealt with, once whoever the fuck is bossing the captain around makes a move- I'll figure it out then.
[ He takes his head from his hands, leaning it back until it hits the wall behind him. ]
Are you hurt?
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[Physically, at least. Alucard gestures to his side, and inded, there is no problem at all there. No wound. No sign he was ever stabbed at all.
But the rest of it....]
Belmont, I'm afraid that being asleep and recovering for 400 years means that you're speaking words I do not remotely understand. What is happening?
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[ He moves, holding himself differently. Slightly more confidently. ]
There was an outbreak of sickness in London, maybe- twenty years ago now. It was- bad water, something like that. The problem is that the symptoms of it were a little like the early stages of turning. We had- other shit to deal with. Assumed it was just the disease. It wasn’t.
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[He remembers the medical wisdom of his father. How he and his mother would talk of it late into the night. It's fine. That doesn't hurt and--]
How is London not completely dominated by vampires then? Given the feeding habits, any city shouldn't be able to sustain that many vampires in one place.
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I don't know. I didn't know that the outbreak was being used to hide turnings until I talked to the speaker. All the information we've been able to get until recently is that London is the territory of only one vampire, and that any other vampire who tries to enter his territory vanishes. [ We've. He's not referring to him and Sypha there. He's still pretending that there is more than just him. Shit's less scary that way. ]
Which is why there was only ever one group of hunters for the seat of an empire. Only one vampire. Never had contact with them, but- we like to keep an ear out for news of each other. They've been dragged off to jail for ritualism, all of them, and all of them have died there. Spring Heel's lived with them harassing him for decades now, if he's finally having all of them killed at once he has to be planning something.
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Then he shakes his head.]
Belmont, I'm sorry, but if my hunch is correct then this situation is nothing in the light of returning my father to this earth.
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