retribution.

enough 𝑻𝑨𝑳𝑲 —

[witchbxttles]

“ WHAT IS A MAN ? ”

affiliate of isola radiale | Newcomer | House 107

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someone with extraordinary knowledge, enough to rival any great scholar and only that of an immortal.

isolated himself for years, away from both what he commands and the kind on which he feeds.

someone so involved in demonic influence that even death serves him.

extremely antisocial to the point of leaving corpses as invitations.

someone who learned to love after centuries of solitary confinement and bitterness.

a man who lost it all upon false charges and an inability to reach her before execution.

and a man who waged war on all humanity as a result.

18+. based on both games and netflix series.

“ A MISERABLE PILE OF SECRETS . ”

[witchbxttles]

Plotting call! Graphics to come later.

Like this for me to come and talk to you about potential ideas, interactions and plots with Dracula.

[witchbxttles]

Starter call! Graphics to come later. Uncapped.

[dishonoredknife]

The fluid movements of a calculating predator. Another observation that Daud quickly noted as the man turned to face him. He stood, undaunted, even with his hackles raised and the fibers of his being yelling at him to move. Only his finger twitched slightly at the itch of his palm to fill with the hilt of his blade.

Very few people ever elicited Daud's wariness, and he could name them on one hand: Delilah Copperspoon, and Maximilien Norcross. He hadn't a name for this one, though.

Whoever, or whatever he was- he was guarding his own secrets- and contempt of the secrets of others... a hard road to navigate. The best chance he had to avoid a confrontation, he figured, was to be honest and offer something to entice the man's own curiosity.

At the very least, it was time he could take to reassess his own position.

"Very well, newcomer," he says, "Sure, I'll find nothing from you, seek nothing. But I get the feeling it wouldn't be likewise the other way around."

The white-haired man tilts his head upwards, appraising the reaction of the certainly inhuman creature.

"We've all been pulled from a place outside of this one, and weakened. No one knows for what purpose. Only that there are beings called 'Stars' that are responsible... and one of their tricks is that death holds no real meaning here."

[witchbxttles]

contempt it was and contempt it forevermore would be. dracula is not someone who entertained those who bit off more than they could handle, and man had already sealed its reputation long ago. his eyes remain fixed on the other, fire flecked with brimstone and traces of sulphur, burning with an endless flame drawn deep from the bowels of Hell itself.

“ whatever you expect in return for this knowledge, you will not have it. ”

keen eyes caught the twitch, imperceptible and quick. it was odd, seeing someone stand before him for as long as he had — admirable, really, given the hair trigger the vampire stood on — and without fleeing for the hills. he did not wish to know anything about the stranger, or have him learn anything about himself in return. this had been the longest bout of makeshift truce ever since he had laid waste to wallachia, and not one that would he repeated again.

he wants nothing, and offers information in return. crimson narrows on account of suspicion — trades, he dealt in, gifts, only rarely. even less when it came to selfish greed most were so well known for. gratifying themselves and only themselves, for nothing more than accomplishment. there lay not a soul who could contain him, weaken him, and this man had the gall to claim there was some more powerful.

“ i am vlad dracula tepes, and i bow to the whim of no-one. ”

[witchbxttles]

dracula was beholden to no-one, and that applied to the so-named stars that he'd learned of during his brief travel here. they controlled this world, as one had said, but he would not accept the lordship of another being over him, nor would he the limitation of his power. the way men travelled held little appeal towards him, keeping the rich fabric of his clothing above the recently-rained ground below, and some part of him wondered how others found it. tedious, was one quality, but there was curiosity in another, to discover the limits of the earth in a way only this could, but that had long since come to an end the moment he vowed to never do it again. there just wasn't time.

a quick step and flash of movement by his side, and his cloak rustled as something — or someone — passed by. his stature meant that nimble hands couldn't reach for pockets or anything that would grant another the chance for valuables, his reaction was quick enough for a hand to sweep down and grab ahold of a shirt collar. the offending party was lifted into the air for his study, flaming red narrowing in response. teeth showed as he spoke, sharp and gleaming white.

“ little creature, come to steal from me? ”

@spiderstaff liked for a starter.

[dishonoredknife]

Ego homini Lupus. I am the Wolf of man. That had been his motto for decades, a supernatural predator of mankind, a terror that hunted anyone without remorse, trading blood for coin. The Mark he'd been branded with had cemented himself as something apart from humanity, and able to enforce his will upon the world.

And with that Mark, Daud began to be drawn further toward the otherworldly. He could feel where the Void left its impressions, and spilled into the world- the calls of whales long dead etched into their bones as runes, the ever persistent death rattling hum of bonecharms, the whispers of the Void that spoke in unfamiliar tongues whenever he, or anyone else, used a power.

Daud felt the pull even now- but something adjacent to the Void, not begotten from it. Still, undoubtedly, black magic.

Never one to let a mystery go unsolved, Daud, against the inner judgement screaming at him of the obvious danger, followed the call and broke from his patrol route.

The figure of a man, but much taller, and broader than any man Daud had ever seen, with unusual pallor and sharp, wolfish features. His facial hair neatly trimmed, and the hair of his head cut a smart length above the shoulder, and adorned in fine cloth obscuring the physique of his body.

No, this wasn't human, and the stranger's words confirmed as such. A human wouldn't have noticed his perch without looking, and not in this darkness.

Against every instinct, Daud rises from his crouched position, and calls out: "No challenge."

Not yet, at least.

He steps forward, and lets himself fall from the gantry overlooking the waterfront, waiting until he was two body lengths from the ground. He clenched his fist, feeling the Outsider's Mark burn him with a coldness and time stop as he plotted his landing. When he releases his fist, his body disappears, leaving only a cloud of black ash in his wake that quickly dissipates. Daud reappears less than the span of a blink closer to the stranger- but far enough away to give himself time to react if the conversation turned sour.

"Just curiosity," he says.

[witchbxttles]

“ curiosity. ” he muses, tasting the letters with his tongue, lacing it with unspoken history. it was a dangerous thing, seeking out what wanted to remain hidden — enough had already learned that lesson, but he hadn't and never would. while he wasn't one who looked for the secrets of others as often as he did the secrets of the world, he could perhaps consider the motivations of someone who did.

no challenge. almost too good to be true, with the records that so became of man. raids under cover of night, looking for the evidence they'd require to label themselves heroes, only to end as unwilling sentries. nothing well comes of those who spend their nights watching — spying — on those who would otherwise be unaware, but not he. very little could truly hide from him and though the stranger reveals himself, falls from above ... materializing on the ground below, it doesn't hold any weight.

that last observation catches his attention. there aren't many who could manifest their power in such a way, and there had been none with the exception of the lord. that alone was curious, and it invited the turn of his head as he faced him. close enough to lunge, close enough to kill.

“ you will find nothing. ”

[witchbxttles]

the waterfront is calm, for once. quiet cycles of the liquid's flow lends itself well to thought, and to considerations of a simmering anger that boiled over every so often, staining his surroundings with a pitfall of blood. stars reflect off the expanse, and all that can be recalled is his time in the wonders of the castle, looking through telescopes and studying the patterns that could be found in the fabric of the sky, the bright glimmer in someone's eye that he could draw a thousand constellations from each and every time he showed something new.

it is for all and more that he must carry out what he has set out to do, this water would not stay calm and blue for much longer, should he have his way. he already has, and a fair share of it, and out of this salt would come thick, cloying crimson, enough to fill the basin it inhabited and flesh to replace the sand and stones underneath his boots.

the air is sharp, crisp and clear. it's what causes him to glance only once without turning his head, a shift of the composition within. therein lies a presence behind, strange and unfamiliar and not entirely natural.

“ i do not care for humans and their challenges. ”

@dishonoredknife liked for a starter.

[witchbxttles]

dark streets was the first thing to greet the figure as he made his way through the outskirts of town. at first, there'd been a consideration of some wrong adjustment with the castle, but seeing no trace of rich carpets and sharp-edged towers, that theory had been left by the wayside.

once more, dracula was left to travel like a man.

it irked him to no end, walking through commoner's lands, and slowly. his thoughts had come once again to the last time he had done something like this, on request of one of the only people who ever deserved a fraction of his care. if you love me like a man, she had said, travel like one. only this time, it was done out of necessity. pure, unbottled necessity, for he had no other way to do such a thing, and for the first time in his life, he hadn't been able to transport himself through fire and through raven. perhaps it was the weakness, the lack of blood, but with the power that he held, it should only be inconsequential, at the most.

a faint scent of something invaded his thoughts then, that of which could only come to the salt of the earth. the vampire stops where he is — for a brief time, at the very least — and a light rumble escapes his throat. eyes flicker to his surroundings, and tired as he is, keeps his hands inside the cloak that covered his towering form.

“ whoever you are, ” he began, voice low and tinged with years of court politics, “ come out before i find you. ”

@astrallithid liked for a starter.

[witchbxttles]

Starter call! Graphics to come later. Uncapped.

[isolaradiale]

I locked in and turns out I don't actually need the reserve lmao. Here is my application for Castlevania's Dracula.

Welcome to scenic Isola Radiale, Dracula!

You’ll be staying in HOUSE 107!

You’ll retain the ability to create fire in the form of weak fireballs.

You’ll also be given this mask.

— * alkaphrah