#nocturnirea

[venatorio]

nocturnirea replied to your post: that’s too many guys named dracula in isola right...

it’s like…. they belong in this world

don’t do that

[isolaradiale]

Final Boss reporting in. Taking Dracula (Castlevania) off hiatus!

Welcome back!

-- mod spica

[keiisho]

@necryptoss @arsnova @nocturnirea

“Tch.” The annoyed click of tongue against teeth was audible as the magus crossed his arms. Happenstance placed the three of them in the place - well, happenstance that Archaman had shown up here. One of the people the lord had plagued during Kairi Shishigou’s absence. A fourth guest, as well, seemed to be brought by the evening rather than happenstance.

“Well, I can’t say I’m entirely sure how we got here, but it seems as though we’ve left with little choice.” A sidelong glance at the other teams forming up, getting the necessary gear, and going. “I suppose we need a name. Any suggestions?”

[starkilld-blog]

Send me ⚜ + a character or ship name and I’ll make a graphic of their aesthetic || DRACULA + ALUCARD || @nocturnirea

[drkla-archive]

What a strange place between worlds. His fingernails, curved, point, trailed patterns and grains in the wood. It both felt an extension of himself and foreign all the same. Nothing aligned with him at his core yet a nauseating welcoming beckoned from the shadows through the halls. An urge he followed to navigate unseen through the depths and rises of this mysterious castle. It was easy. The less he disturbed. His presence was widely ignored, hidden.  Past monsters, through glassed workshops and libraries, up climbing towers and fascinating machinery, golden studies full of notes he glanced over. Private, inviting, yet cold rooms. Nothing caught his interest so much as this particular one. Wide, with a view of the surrounding area, tapestries and carpets  of the finest materials, all leading up to a high back chair darkened by age. He almost felt jealous. Beautiful craftsmanship. He noticed faint scratches and traced them too, trying to gauge the man who would have sat here.

@nocturnirea

[ceremonialpurge-blog]

Lancer would return to his quarters in the late evening, his presence known by the ( sʟᴀᴍ ) of the door behind him and the unmistakable growl in his throat by his own carelessness. It was too late to take the disturbance back; He had mistaken his own strength.  ( ᴠɪɢᴏʀ ɪɴ ᴀɴɢᴇʀ.. ʙᴜᴛ, ᴏғ ᴄᴏᴜʀsᴇ )

Darkness waited in the common area.. heavier than usual, but all too familiar. So his entry stirred beings afterall. He dumped things on the table in his trudged through. “Walked back.”

@nocturnirea 

[erudorago]

@nocturnirea​ |  .One’s place in the world.

Night cast over the city, a curtain of falsehoods, a blanket of stars made from amateurs and fools.  Pinpoints of light above sat out of order, minute details unnoticed by many but to any navigator, it was no more than a scatter of glistening ash-- direction and location burnt with their place in the world.  She wandered high, aloft, among the rooftops and powerlines.  Rider paused at corners and atop poles, logbook in hand.  She scribbled notes against the flutter of pages and carried on. How strange. This lostness brought sentiments of other far off stars. A creeping sense of déjà vu that barely nipped at her spine. Before she could dwell on the surge of reminiscing, the shine of silver below pulled her attention down.  From her wooden perch, a man clad in black drifted across the rooftop almost silently, something tucked under his arm.  He set it up.

Huh.

 “ Does that help you here?”  she called over the evening’s stillness, loud enough to catch attention while genuine curiosity softens the delivery  Rider dropped down some measures away with a heavy click of her heels She gestured to the man’s telescope with the waver of her open journal. “Do you chart the heavens even when there’s nothing beyond those stars? I have been all over the world yet the map above fails me. Have you any clue? ”

[bloodburial-blog]

It seems to follow her everywhere, whether strong or as faint as it could possibly be. It’s hard to get rid of, considering she ends up near it every other night. Sometimes, they struggle, and she has to get rid of yet another dress under the guise of night. Either way, she is far too used to it by now. The sensation of it iron lingering in her mouth, the occasional drip down her chin, the only warm thing that seems to linger in her body....

She is a creature who thrives off blood, after all.

She is slow and quiet, sticking out like a sore thumb the moment she leaves her victim behind. There is only a speck left behind, and a thumb brushes at the red on her lips before she freezes. Not out of fear, but because of the smell-- a scent she hasn’t dealt with before in this place. 

She can’t ignore it. Not when she has spent these past few nights alone, a singular damned creature wandering the streets with no sense of familiarity. She carefully strides toward the source, hand to brick all the while, until she comes across him.

“Do you come here often? I haven’t seen you before, and I’ve been coming here for the past few days.” An innocent enough question, another step forward being given before she pauses, giving him space. He is older...physically, and perhaps more than that as well. He carries himself with a different air than she does, something more regal. Ancient.

“I had thought I was alone...but I see I was wrong. It’s a comforting feeling.”

@nocturnirea​