LORD OF THE CASTLE.

AFFILIATED WITH ISOLA RADIALE

[nocturnirea]

caramatre‌:

❝ and what sacrifice is it for me to believe in the innate good of humanity? i never believed all were innocent; merely that all have within them the ability to do better, to be more than they are — even the thieves and the killers. not all take advantage of it, but that does not constitute the damning of the whole. ❞

it would be ill-conceived indeed to believe humanity perfect, but lisa never has. she has to hope that some of vlad’s feelings come from a place of concern as opposed to pure and singular anger, lest a weary sadness overwhelm her. her eyebrows knit together, hands clasping white-knuckled as she tries to dispel her frustration.

❝ it’s true that i’ve not traveled far, but for you to stand here and tell me that you never saw the compassion or kindness that i know — perhaps you looked but did not see. my hope was not stolen, and to place it in humanity was not the wrong decision. ❞

❝ i died, but after years fighting for the betterment of my people. i do not regret it. if even a fraction of your revenge effort were directed toward the education of the masses as you educated me, imagine the difference that could have been made. wondrous potential, wasted alongside so many lives. ❞

It was not that they were not perfect. It was that they were all flawed, beyond what he could tolerate. “Your answer has always been education. Even the first time we met, you said that.“ The moment never lost vibrancy; how they walked across the red carpet, the lights of candles falling on her features while she tried to move a monster she just met to become what he hated.

“Education is also only a tool. The reality of your wondrous potential is not one in which humans would dedicate most of it to mend or improve. They would create weapons and find means to achieve mass destruction until the earth was seared and nothing but their works and pockets of survivors remained.“ Hollow as his voice was, his words were filled with ugly truths. The dear, desperate hands he wished to hold- he removed their grasp from his, pulling his own back.

There was a distance between them now. “So many times, all over the world, my dear. Why do you think I could show you this knowledge in the first place? What do you think it is? All of it is from ancient civilizations that drove themselves to extinction. It’s not knowledge that humans lack. These people have no souls. Compared to a soul, knowledge is nothing.” He described solemnly, a cycle that painted the betterment of humanity as illusion. That all he taught her was the very proof of their unchanging nature and inclination towards self-destruction.  

“Yes, you died. You died, without regrets. I hope you rest easy where I cannot follow Lisa. But was your hope not to prove humanity to me, that I live as man?“ At the end of his wrath were regrets to last eons. For a moment, the front of hatred fell back to reveal again the fatigue this cruel fate left him with. “That I could find solace in it and remember it, for the eternity that would follow your death? You were mortal. Our love, your death. It was always inevitable. How can I say our hopes were not betrayed, when it was for me to find no more reason to hate their lot? Now I am to live and return forever to a blasted world like this, with nothing but regrets.”

[nocturnirea]

Cold and pallid hands rested on the edge of the page of another book meant to fall closed. The vampire lord, seated on a roof overlooking the ward that fell in chaos, shifted his attention between the scenes unfolding before him, the material he brought, the vision a familiar he sent shared with him and lastly, the rubbery remnants of one of these strange feline pests that another monster he had summoned earlier and sent out retrieved.

Pained and desperate screams for help far below fell on deaf pointed ears. The state of mayhem was acceptable, even if pointless. Towards the idea of relishing in the suffering of others, he only felt numbness however. The sole reason he paid mind at all was the perpetrator himself, another god-like being not bound by rules it seemed.

The life of the familiar flickered out. With a groan, he summoned the next one through runes drawn mid-air. As it departed, he turned his attention back to the pile of books. The name ‘K’horii’ appeared always in a context of chaos. Randomly popping up, then disappearing without none the wiser to scribe what or who they dealt with, just as now again. Shallow descriptions with much baseless speculation and conjunctures, as expected of mortals facing something greater.

But still, he was curious. Not enough to enter the accursed zone himself, but considering the chance that some other beings besides pathetic masses of humans were among the captives and maybe held the knowledge but simply didn’t chronicle it, he reached for the communication device he almost never used.

FROM: ANON TO: ALL

( TXT ) Who is this K’horii?

His hopes were modest. Whether there was a reply or not, he returned to browsing his books.

[nocturnirea]

@causerank / EXIT CRIME/KILLING THE HOPE OF HUMANITY

It was cruel, quick, precise. Drivel about humanity stopped spewing from the young man’s mouth, replaced by red running out of its corners. Nails punctured bone and flesh, his hand stabbed into his chest. Blood sprayed out when he pulled his hand out of it, landing on the vampire king’s own face. Wrong place, wrong time. The nature of fate.

He remembered it all from a long time ago. A fool who called humans hardworking. A child who thought for their weakness humans were the strongest. “Wretched weakling. If you were honest, you should stay dead. Otherwise, you’re the same as me. ” An evil bound to return.

[nocturnirea]

venatorio‌:

     “Mankind deserves better than the fate you have in store      for them.”

It was venomous, it dripped out so casually, because it’s how he always felt. Mankind, as complicated as it can be, deserved better than the endless slaughtering that was laid out for them.

It’s a wonder how Richter can still defend the people that slowly began to turn away from him, the people who would whisper among themselves whenever he and Maria would visit the marketplace, the people who’s piercing glances and words would be deflected by his father’s own to protect him. It would be easy to simply leave them to their own devices, because of how mankind can easily turn and devour one another at the flip of a coin.

But he can’t; Richter is too good of a soul to do such a thing. He cares too much. He loves too much.

                             – The only thing necessary for evil to triumph                                       is for good men to do nothing.

Even if God has abandoned Richter, Richter cannot abandon His people.

     “… Mankind never learns, and it will be a long while before      it does, but there will always be someone like me who will      stop you. I know I don’t matter; I’ve long accepted it. All I      can do is make sure that someone follows in line to defeat      you.”

It’s not an ideal fate. It’s not an ideal way for a family lineage to spend their entire lives, but if they have to be the ones to stand up and fight, to be the good men to stop evil, then so be it.

     “It’s not God that I listen to. It’s not the Church I fight for.      It’s for the innocent lives you wish to slaughter. People      you’ve, and whoever is stupid enough to follow you,      pulled into this mess, when they don’t deserve to be.”

Annette didn’t deserve the fate that was brought upon her. It was his fault, he knew that. Expecting a vampire to play fair and leave his loved ones out of this was too naive of him. A breath fell from his lips, dark cerulean eyes finally forcing themselves to gaze into tired, crimson eyes - a tiredness that Richter can’t help but feel familiar with.

He doesn’t want to; it would be easier for him to see things in black and white, to see Dracula as a monster. And yet, he knows that it’s so much more complicated than that.

     “… My name is Richter Belmont. I am three hundred years      after Trevor Belmont defeats you in battle.”

“ ‘Always someone like you’. You can’t even stop your own kind and you know their ways are incorrigible, yet you think you can be in my way.” The naivety of it. Dracula, behind sealed lips, bit on his teeth with frustration. The eyes trained on the Belmont twitched. That they, humanity’s evil and him, were one and the same a mere hunter could never fathom. “For 300 years then, your ancestors passed on this stubborn belief. A meaningless struggle for an equally meaningless flicker of hope, to be forgotten and engulfed by the shadows of your innocents until the next link of the chain.“ 

The towering vampire furrowed his brows at the man who addressed him with such conviction. That the Belmont clan would commit themselves to such a cause was not a stretch, when they hunted him across continental Europe before. They were hunters, he a vampire. It should be unquestionable and simple, but the futility boiled his dead cold blood. 

“You too then, are a prisoner of fate. There will be no end to it, Richter. There is a reason there hasn’t been an end so far if you speak true. Your cause is noble, but hollow. Just like all of this.“  Just like his life. Just like the future. Nihilism streamed over every word he said, like blood cascading from an open wound. Richter was a stranger, but a mirror of every other Belmont to come, someone who was both nemesis and old acquaintance. If ‘someone like him’ had shown a shred of this will to combat mankind’s injustice, the tragedy that started it all could’ve been prevented. But humans only chased demons that looked like demons. There was surely no clan dedicated over hundreds of years to persecute their own evil.

“If I didn’t kill them, they would kill each other sooner or later. You can observe it here better than in our own world, son of Belmont. I needn’t raise a finger and darkness seeps from their hearts and takes form.” In fact, he did not lie. Very few events unfolding were enacted by him. He even found himself caught up in them at times. But there was always something, enacted by the people or rulers of this place. Conflict in a pointless cycle, that never changed. “There’s no meaning to death, but they fight and kill all the same. Your wish to protect ‘innocents’ is a mortal fantasy, and your wish to kill me an immortal one.“

[amerikagome]

“You married. You had a child. And yet you did not make her a vampire. Why was that? Were you simply keeping a human pet?”

[delhe-dalim]

What is a cat?

A miserable little pile of whiskers.

[saintdri]

Vlad the Terrible and His Son  II commissioned by @kitaoroshi 

Print (x) / Full res @ Patreon as usual

[nocturnirea]

caramatre‌:

❝ i am, ❞ lisa affirms, softly.

oh, how her emotions clash so! though glad for the opportunity to see her husband again, the faintest idea, the merest estimate of the destruction he may have caused after her death sends her heart into the pit of her stomach.

even so, lisa remains unafraid of him.

she reaches up and guides vlad’s hands away from her shoulders, her touch gentle. lisa brings them together before her, holding them in hers.

❝ oh, love — ❞

❝ it was the fault of fear. you shouldn’t have…  ❞

lisa’s eyes turn away; she knows full well that words alone are insufficient for the herculean task of changing vlad’s opinion of humanity. perhaps his travels would have, if things were different. it’s too late for what-ifs now.

❝ how are they to learn if they’re dead, vlad? they were scared of what they didn’t know. you must have known killing them wouldn’t change a thing — if anything it shows the survivors that it was right to have those fears and superstitions, right of the church to have me killed. ❞

Her hands are as warm as the appreciation she holds in them for life. His, as cold as the death he brought to it. The way her eyes avert him, it’s just like the innocence of the wish to live unable to bear the cruelty of mortality. Dracula’s thoughts stayed suspended in the moment, the tragedy, but above her words. Lisa had never turned away from him like that before.

Everything passing his lips flickered like a flame with the wish to consume, except when her name was on them. It’s like he felt the ashes burn in his throat. “Lisa... you are still too kind. But you are wrong.“

Gaze on the hands that clasped his, then pulling away from them, his head sunk and the vampire’s hair curtained his face and hid how it wrinkled in disgust despite being with her again. “There is no point to self-sacrificing both our lives to their bigotry. Their ignorance isn’t innocent, my love. Their faith is perverse. Their contempt is not based in pain or fear.” 

He inhales sharply as the images come to mind again. “You sent me to travel and I know why. But how far have you traveled yourself? It didn’t matter where I went. I saw humans sell their own lot into slavery. I looked upon wars and bloodshed in the supposed name of God. Treachery, thievery. Laws and trust abused. The poor and sick left to die on their very doorsteps without even a sliver of the compassion you hoped they would possess.”

Swallowing, he pressed on to what hurt the most. Teeth clenched, the words leaked through them, deep and pointed. But just as he didn’t face her, he restrained himself so she wouldn’t have to see the pain buried it all. Once more, the count’s eyes were a blood-red tint. “And when you died, nobody even questioned it. Nothing about this is right. You are the last victim. They took your life, they took even your hope... and they took it from me. I have nothing else left, Lisa.”

[nocturnirea]

sanguisomnum‌:

Seeing as his father had seen it, much like a guilty child playing with a toy that did not belong to him, Adrian reluctantly held it up where it could be seen. The scene played still, Vlad Tepes has just sat with his wife and son. Adrian would surely be scrambling to try and read along, ever curious and impatient.

“I was here researching what it could be. Illusion magic, surely, but it is not simply playing my memories, nor yours or mother’s either. It would not be in this perspective. And something about it…”

“Once you look, it is less as though you are looking into a glass semi-sphere, and more as though it captures your entire vision.” A frown, and he looked back at the scene, fire flickering. Then his vision fell once more, as though he had to look away, Such was the enchanting effect it it, however, that Dracula before him once more looked the part of his father. Soft expression - or, as soft as his expression ever became - lit by a flickering fire. Calm explanations in a quiet voice.

And he was gone. Leaving behind only the harsh lighting of the library and their current standing. If these boxes - if they were meant to be gifts - he imagined that only a cruel mistress, this Noel, would have given him a facsimile of what he wanted. 

Alucard held the snowglobe out to be taken for inspection. “You may have more experience with this than I.”

The snow globe found its way into the hold of his nails, precariously clasped as if it were a world of its own. He turned it to one side, then another, thumb brushing over its smooth surface. The squint at it and silence gave away that this was nothing which he could deduce quickly and without problem. “This isn’t pure magic. It’s not even magitek.”

His lips curled into a frown and he placed it back on the wooden table. For this moment’s notice, emnity between the two ceased and outside of the past projected by the curious object, a nostalgic scene played out in their reality: lecturing his son about the inner mechanics and workings of the secret arts. “It’s nothing like anything from our world-” Without equal in his hundreds of years of experience of every technology, no matter how ancient, distant or lost there was on earth.  “- and it works regardless of intent. ” The very base of magic in their world.

“It’s illusionary, but it’s not illusion magic. It’s something else. Another kind of force that twists the fabric of reality, even if it does so in ways so subtle it could be mistaken for less...  “ It stood afront to all theories of magic, but he had an inkling of its true nature. This conclusion was so bitter on his lips, so preposterous it didn’t pass. 

That this small, unseeming ‘gift’ was made by beings that could interact with the world’s balance itself. So it ‘didn’t make sense’. It just ‘did as it should’. It required no magic for fuel. It required no intent placed on it to function as curse- even if the one giving the gift had the intent of ‘it reflecting one’s heart’, it would require magic to project that reflection for others... magic that could be broken or overwritten with more powerful magic. This wasn’t the case. 

Dracula folded his arms now, shoulders lowered. “This is harmless, but nonetheless beyond you to resist. Don’t trust this world, Alucard.” Even if you enjoy it.

[nocturnirea]

prayeress‌:

head-turner he might be in most circumstances — but when one is friends to a plethora of strange acquaintances, one eerily reminiscent of him ( though vincent is more broody, she’d admit ), then even those that command the night seem rather docile in nature. of course, he still stands out against the myriad of colors behind him; though that elicits a welcoming grin more than anything else.

❝ here they are! pretty, right? ❞ true to her word, aerith brings out a stunning display of flowers: red roses, stargazer lilies, alstroemeria, topped with sea lavenders. it’s something that truly symbolizes an eternal love – fitting for the duo, in her eyes! ❝ the vase really brings it together. i saw it and immediately thought of you two! ❞

she claps her hands together at her greeting. it’s unfortunate that she couldn’t come along – they’ve gotten so well over some time! she’s probably one of her favorite ( and most common ) customer! ❝ tell her i said hi! how has she been? ❞

The inhuman-appearing eyes scan the flowers of the bouquet to the details, placing a mental check behind the list the brunette cited. “Oh, that’s very sweet of you.” Among the countless things he reminded others of, flowers were usually not among them. A flattered, but still tired chuckle filled the corner little shop. 

He takes the flowers, then lifts his chin up again. Even if it was only small-talk, speaking to Aerith was refreshing. People like her who ignored the city-wide tension between non-humans and not were truly flowers in the desert. “Oh, I will, I will. She's been doing well. But you know how she is when it comes to her job. As long as she can help others, she’s the happiest.” Even if it came at the expense of her free time. Arching a brow, he turns the topic around. “But what of yourself? Are you and your brother well? I’ve not seen him in a while.“

[nocturnirea]

ladyofsado‌:

◤ this ward was an odd place, to be sure. about as close to the general flavor of gensokyo as one could find on the island, it had some comfort to it aside from that dreadful little village just for foxes. that was a shame, certainly. even so, it was unusual in that it lacked the strange and delicately complicated relations between humans and youkai of home; here there was an odd sort of acceptance between the lot, neither gaining an edge over the other, but rather working together, coexisting. they didn’t necessarily seem to require each other’s presence, but didn’t exactly shy away from each other either.

very peculiar, all that.

now, the gentleman here, who seemed clearly of an otherworldly sort himself, made an offhanded remark on the area. mamizou purses her lips a moment in thought, makes a motion to withdraw her long-stemmed pipe from the folds of her robe and hold it betwixt two fingers.

‘that’s a rather loaded statement, isn’t it?’ she chuckles, despite his stern exterior.

‘though i suppose i’d have to take into account which sorts you’re referrin’ to here, of course. would that be the humans… or the youkai? or both together now? there’s a lotta nuance to these sorts of things, you see. can’t go around spoutin’ off ‘til i know what i’m supposed to be talkin’ about.’

“I didn’t think it would be loaded. In all my time here, this part of the city stood out most against the majority of worlds of those I met.“ And then, just like this, he clears up what he kept cryptic a moment’s notice ago. The lord of vampires blinked into her direction from half-lidded eyes, responding with a chuckle of his own. But it was short, sounding tired and ominous, fitting with his overall appearance and tone. “The Youkai and humans are those I mean. Although they are unable to accept even their own kind, humanity tend to band together against other lifeforms.“ And even if wars among demon tribes were nothing unheard of, they tended not to last under their king. At least, that was true for his own world.

But there they were, just in sight before them, the bigger youkai taking over the tasks too heavy for humans and humans recompensating them with never before seen respect. Scenes like this one played out here in abundance. Those that were not working, went along their days and lives. Some of them blended in with the humans... that probably had its reasons too.

“I feel like there should be a reason why this is possible here, and not elsewhere. But so far I haven’t found any.” 

[lilyluner-deactivated20150224]

Everyone I RP with deserves a Nobel Peace Prize for not killing me when I don’t reply for like a month

[molinaesque]

“My father died a long time ago.”

[nocturnirea]

necrowned‌:

“Unconventional? Haha, maybe so. Though, I’ve used the dead for far more than dancing in the past.” His smile curves with the memory. Manual labour, of all things, was what he’s referring to. It saved him in the past, carrying baskets and boxes to his one-time lair.

The tune peters to a stop, silence taking hold now the crowd’s all but lost interest. Wei’s rats are uncaring about the whole thing - climbing up his extended arm to perch happily on his shoulder. Such a harsh sigh doesn’t go unnoticed, however.

“Really, that’s fair. People have a tendency to hate what they don’t understand, and that hate can last for years. Thankfully, this place seems better off then home.” It’s small, but the words escape from lips anyway, “I’ve had enough of being called a heretic for one lifetime, if not two. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed your encore. This little guys are more than happy to preform, with the right incentive.”

People have tendencies, he wanted to repeat and stress like that in itself sufficed. They exist, and no one’s sure why. Even he lacked a conclusion to that question still, but what he didn’t lack was understanding for their shared situation. “You and I, both.” 

As with its nature as a de facto prison, this one at least gathered interesting other inmates. The exchange remained lighthearted over the dark of the intrigue. The vampire’s exhaustion is present from before, but transitions into a kind of comfort. “Your encore was among the more amusing uses of necromantic magic I’ve witnessed, when I thought I’ve seen it all.” The music played into it, that put a twist on an old trick. “But if you allow me to exchange names.” It would be a shame if they didn’t at this point. “I’m Vlad Dracula Tepes. Dracula, to most that believe I even exist.” 

[nocturnirea]

venatorio‌:

                          ‘The only thing necessary for evil to prevail–’

                                 ‘– is for good men to do nothing.’

The words were always on repeat in Richter’s mind, from the moment they left both his and Alucard’s mouth. Perhaps they were the only words that had pulled him out of that dark mindset he was in. He’s not even sure himself. What he is sure about is whatever Dracula was planning, he wouldn’t let him get away with it. 

He wouldn’t go down without a fight.

     “What? Do you actually plan on continuing your reign of terror      here? In a place that has no business of it, nor deserves it?      This world doesn’t deserve whatever plans you have for it. I’m      simply in no mood to deal with your long and terrible speeches,      that’s all.”

And yet, despite the words that rung from both of their mouths, both men seemed in no hurry to rip at each other’s throats, like they would have in the past. It’s not like Richter could; the whip that was given to him by another was a simply whip - all it would do is irritate the man. Richter was in no position to fight anyone.

Didn’t mean he wasn’t stubborn enough to go up to Dracula and tell him how it was.

The hunter let out another sharp breath, as he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. Dracula had no idea who he was - only the fact that he was a Belmont, by the crest on his clothing and a whip at his side. It may not be the Vampire Killer, but who else would walk around with a whip looped around their belt.

     “You don’t know me. You haven’t met me yet. Wonderful.      Great. If I didn’t know what was going on, I’d assume it      ran in the family. What part of the future have a ruined so      far simply by existing in this plane, I wonder?”

A beat. A shaky sigh. Richter swallowed as his throat suddenly felt dry. Even here, Dracula still had every ounce of hatred for humanity in his veins. How could he? How could he go on hating like this? In the name of his wife, in his own grief?

     “… I wonder if you’re aware of everything that’ll happen in      my future. Did you plan this whole thing out? Did you plan      a lifetime of hatred in your path? A lifetime of endless fighting?      Aren’t you tired?”

                                        This isn’t what Lisa would have wanted.

Yet. The small word looms over the Prince of Darkness, drawing his ire further and further into the open. It stayed above this conversation like the sun itself in the middle of night, blinding and impossible to ignore. He thought to feel it sear. Something inside of him was beginning to burn up. The dipping of tone and fatigue this Belmont made obvious, speaking of them in a manner he couldn’t mistake as one other than that he himself carried against mankind. Something old, long, personal. A twisted oath. “What do you know, of what mankind deserves?” It drips from his lips with acid.

The possibilities spread out before him like a fan and are traced quick in his thoughts. The conclusion is chilling, found again in the frustration mirrored on his face. Claws curl inward, short of drawing his own blood in vain. “A future I don’t know of- you think I care about something this inane? An attempt on my life from another era of time would be the most laughable I ever heard, if this plane weren’t atemporal. If you know me, then I was revived by those very humans you wish to protect from me. Do you really think you matter in a fate that has always been obvious for me? It doesn’t matter from how far in the future you are, or what you know. “

Dracula was a library of ancient lost knowledge, a seeker of wisdom in the now, a scientist whose forbidden and unknown breakthroughs preceded their own time by centuries. But the future was bleak and meaningless, as it always had been to his immortal flesh and soul. He died, but it didn’t matter at all. It was what he dreaded the most, confirmed by the enemy’s tongue: as long as humanity prevailed he couldn’t cease existing.  

He was here with Lisa now, for a fleeting while. A pointless while. Nihilism domineered his mentality, now more than ever. That Belmont salted this wound by dubbing his hatred a ‘plan’. Plans had meaning and proceeded logically. His war on mankind was nothing of that nature, just a wildfire that reached as far as it could. The Dark Lord was torn, finding it almost amusing that his destiny could be interpreted as a plan, which also assumed he had control over it.

If so, he would have stayed dead. 

“If there is a plan, then mankind and your God enacted it.” The sound of a mindset that had been there since his start: it was deserved, he was strung along the plan. A world in which these events have unfolded was not one anyone wanted, and he least of them all. Being left with hatred was inflicted upon him. The stubborn ignorance to face this responsibility pushed the enunciation of his dialogue to be sharper.  “What is your name, Belmont? From how far in the future are you to still doubt my hatred?“ 

[nocturnirea]

haemoneiron‌:

“Our hosts have made efforts to sterilise this place. I’ve met others; a professor with a soul much older than his body and a young girl with a lock to the stars in her head.” She’d have to check in on Abigail soon, actually.

Crow watched with a focused interest that wasn’t readily apparent on her flat expression, enthralled was she. With an ease that belied complexity he wove this pattern in the air, a speed that spoke of a vast experience. It was beautiful in its own way, but the light and the patterns were a mask. 

She did not hesitate to assume it was part of something greater for she felt the weight and displacement of reality. It was far deeper than it appeared, a depth one could get lost in if they stared too long. Crow felt it look back, the feeling was remarkably akin to standing before that eye in the nightmare’s abyss.

“Magnificent.” It left her mouth before she could think. “I assume people only see the surface.”

Starry eyes lingered even as the image faded, red lines etched into her mind. Once she would have pondered whether this meeting was chance or design. 

“Are you also a part of your castle? Or is your castle a part of you. It seems…” She squinted slightly as her voice faded before she looked back to him. “It left an impression much greater than its image might have suggested. So do you.” Her eyes hung again, this time on him.

“It seems we have that much in common.“ If castle and master were two sides of the same coin, he left an answer to be found between the lines. The compliment he received with a tired laugh, even if it wasn’t more than a statement of fact. Pallid digits referred to the library entrance behind them. “This might not be a place to find anything, but we should move our chat inside. It would be quieter and a better to discuss these things away from the attention of others.” And better than to have this chat standing here on the stairs. 

He led the way inside, getting a confused look from one of the librarians for his quick return, but none dared bringing up ‘why’ to him. Although the rows of books stretched far and high, it lacked the charm of any old library. This white and sterilized look that people preferred nowadays didn’t mesh with him, or his current company. A gesture to the seat opposite, then he took place himself at a table in the furthest corner of it.

Fewer eyes were drawn to them now. He continued, bringing the discussion to the point. “Like most here, I come from a world called earth. The country of Wallachia to be precise.” He broke his dialogue with a sigh, then leaned further back. “A land and world in which magic is outlawed and beings like us are dismissed as fairy tales, or hunted down. As result, I haven’t had the joy to meet someone like yourself in all of the centuries I lived. I suppose they would have slipped into other, less hostile worlds.” Worlds plagued not by faith and worship to a force that could pose a threat to them all. Both blind, on top of that. 

“Worlds like your own, possibly?“ His voice rises to fit the interest and hunger for knowledge. What could draw the stars out of her eyes like this? What world paved way for this light, dazzling but inherently dark? 

[nocturnirea]

advancedai‌:

“Fufu. Are you interested~?” So sudden, and interrupting her, too. She could easily come up with the number of people bold enough to do such a thing, people who feared little for their lives… or people who were tired of her shenanigans. They matter so very little, however.

A quick look at the man’s figure told her all she needed to know; old. She comes from the future, and he, likely from the past. Of course such knowledge would fly right over his head. What a poor, pathetic little thing. The old-fashioned ways don’t quite work anymore, didn’t you know? Humanity adapts easily, quickly, and that’s what is truly terrifying about them. “That’s right~ ☆  Epileptic waves from a computer’s screen can be enough to drive a normal person to madness. My, didn’t you know? Technology can be quite terrifying. Fufu. Isn’t it ironic how humanity is always creating things that could kill them so easily? It’s like they’re begging for it. ♡ ”

A brow perked at the enthusiasm and cheeriness at the idea of murdering, a hum drew from the vampire’s lips to emphasize his contemplation. His initial disbelief deflated with it, until the sound just ceased. “I am intrigued.” Dracula folded his arms. Intrigue he admitted, but he was not convinced, regardless how she attempted to market it to him. 

“I know of electric waves on brain frequency. But this is the first time I hear of using ‘computers’ for this. That should only kill those in their vicinity, if possible. I don’t question their pointless quest of self-destruction even for a minute, but what you propose sounds too far-fetched to be of their own design.“ It posed many technical questions: the energy needed, how this plan wouldn’t leave survivors not using technology, and so on. 

There was only a small pause, then he followed up with his true reasoning for his doubt. “The ways in which they seek to eradicate themselves only grow more brutal. Humanity doesn’t grow more merciful in their ways to kill... and your story sounds too quick an end.” He proved himself not that old-fashioned, but stuck in his view about his hated enemy.