tampered | Log; Complete

Log; Complete

When: March 6th, midday
Rating: Mentions of violence, so maybe PG?
Characters: Vladislaus Dracula

rekindled_heart, and Vlad Dracula

sinfulpride
Summary: Vladislaus and Vlad have a quiet conversation over goblets of blood, and ignore the ghosts of their pasts in the process.
Log:

-It would figure you'd go hide in a hovel with three other versions of yourself, Dracula. Safety in numbers.
-Disgrace! Abomination! You see what your lust has wrought you!! YOU BEAST! WHORE OF SATAN!!
-Why did you not let me lie, my love...and lived on, lived on...

Vladislaus stalked from one room to the other, pointedly swishing the liquid in his glass, ignoring the trailing voices behind him, each filling him with further rage and despair. The shade of Gabriel Van Helsing, closing closer on his right side, hissing short insults and witty remarks every once and awhile; his father screaming his head off, running after him on short legs...

And then her. She would merely follow him, gently...reaching to touch his arm, never to make contact. She hurt him the most. Like snapping teeth. He was looking for a particular face in this abode, The Hellsing homestead. One that hardly resembled his own, but they shared the same name...and possibly the same past.

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Dracula was in what he prefered to call the sitting room, though he honestly had no idea what his hosts called it and did not particularly care. At the moment, he was preoccupied with the vision of his first wife and their only child. Now she was fussing over the boy, tucking blankets around him as they sat before a fire. Soon, she would begin to tell him a story. He knew the routine well, despite the centuries that had passed since he was last witness to it.

He had hardly noticed when two goblets of warm blood were provided. His gaze was intent on the way his wife moved, the smile on his son's face.

The vampire sneered and surged out of his chair to pace the perimeter of the room. What use had he for human sentimentality?

As Van Helsing continued to bother him with empty threats, he wondered on this other Dracula, and if his past matched his own...a curious thing. He has not met Mina, nor a Helsing of any kind, it would seem.

For a time, his thoughts trailed to Sir Integral. The Van Helsing line...would an eternity put him in the same prideless, mutt-like postion his counterpart in red so willingly accepted? Would he too serve a Master with the same blood that forged him...?

Hardly.

He came across a warmly-lit room. For a moment, his shades fell silent as he looked in on a man quite by himself, pacing fervently. So tense.

"Count Dracula, I presume."

"You are quite correct," the count replied as his pacing abruptly ceased. He cast a glance over his shoulder, scowled, and strode forward to meet his visitor. "Vladislaus Dracula," he observed. Dracula nodded and gestured towards one of the chairs. "I find your company more acceptable than the Alucards' already. Please, sit."

Vladislaus regarded him the same, giving a polite nod of his head. "Thank you. As so with you, Count."

Vladislaus drained the last bit of blood in his glass, and sat in said chair. He eyed his shades as they followed him in, Van Helsing eyeing the other Dracula curiously, his father ranting quietly under his breath. She just stood there. His lip twitched lightly, bitterness touching his speech.

"How do you take to this 'City' so far..?"

"I find it vexing," the other vampire replied simply as he returned to chair he had claimed earlier. His wife was now watching him with accusing eyes, her body shielding his son from view. Dracula shook his head once as his hand found his own blood-filled glass. "My plans have been disrupted, and I do not take kindly to that. And you?"

"Irksome. My own plans were severed by this...kidnapping, I should call it? Hell knows what this place actually did to us. I also find it bothersome these 'deities' entertain themselves in such a fashion." He eyed the woman walking behind his chair. Bothersome indeed.

"May I inquire as to what you see?" Dracula's tone was distracted. His wife was now glaring at him in open hatred.

This is how you repay us?

Vladislaus noted the distraction, looking to where the other vampire stared.

"If I may inquire the same." He glanced about. "I see the Left Hand of God, Gabriel Van Helsing. A murderous father...and a woman." He looked behind the chair, and her gentle face stared back at him. "...whom he murdered.."

Dracula's attention returned to his counterpart. Eyes narrowed, he remarked, "I am not familiar with these things. What I see is my first wife and our son. She threw herself into the river when she was led to believe I was slain. My son was murdered after a pathetically brief reign."

"I see..." Vladislaus looked back at Dracula, quietly folding his hands. He could not help feeling a pang of jealousy over 'son'. He had been mortal then, of course... still...

"It would seem our paths do not cross after all. At least we know we are safe from any apocalyptic catastrophe because of our prolonged contact." He gestured the second goblet on the table. "May I?"

"Of course." He knew well enough why two goblets had been provided.

At last, his wife turned away to fuss over their child. Dracula allowed his relief to show for only a moment before he sipped from his own cup. "Truth be told, I am uncertain still how my path should cross with Alucard's. If my intentions go awry in England, it will not end in servitude."

"Certainly not." Vladislaus lifted the glass and eyed it's contents, idly wondering where it -came- from. Sir Integral would not donate, of course...

"Tell me...what do you remember, exactly? Of your past. I ask purely out of curiosity..we are, in essence the same person, yet entirely different."

"Everything." As he swirled the contents of his glass, Dracula seemed to look beyond the room and its ghosts. "I was born a prince, and I held that title for a time. When I finally met my death, I rose again through black arts and the Devil's power. Transylvania suited my purposes for some time, though I traveled when the mood struck ... but the last of the world that I knew is dying. It is time I made a new kingdom."

Vladislaus nodded lightly, drinking. A prince. He had not been so lucky. His Transylvania was not so scarce and dying. It was rather bothersome, though most of the people obeyed simple rules, and understood simple things. "That was your reason for passage to London...?"

Dracula nodded. "It was. England is a great empire. To hold it in my power would be to hold the world." Suddenly, his fist crushed the goblet. Blood ran between his fingers, unheeded--not his own, only that which he had left undrunk. Anger flashed in his eyes. He hurled the ruined cup at the specter of his wife and was disappointed when it passed through her. "Damn this place."

Vladislaus watched the crushed vessel fly across the room idly. He could very much understand his counterpart's anger. Though he himself had no wish to rule a world, as dozens had already been embraced by his brides, and would continue to..especially since he could not be killed by Van Helsing or others here. Still...it was heavily inconvienient for his own plans...

"My condolences. Thrust from a world that could be commanded into something far more chaotic, and less to our liking." He drank. "Life does have it's setbacks...though this is ridiculous."

The other scoffed. "Madness, you mean. While I may find such a trait fetching in my brides, it does not amuse me under these circumstances."

Dracula's pique disappeared as abruptly as it had come. He raised his hand to his lips and licked it clean. "This would be better fresh from a beating heart."

"No argument here."

Vladislaus watched him lap the droplets away with a sigh, thinking the same thing. "Yes. Warm flesh and body..." He looked down at his glass, voicing his earlier concern.

"Where does she fetch it from, I wonder."

"What does it matter?" Dracula responded, his tone full of boredom. He was starting to get used to ignoring the apparition of his wife and the son she probably still shielded from him.

Then, something in the flat changed. A slow smile spread across Dracula's lips. "She's angry about something."

Vladislaus's eyebrows raised, feeling the change himself. He tilted his head, something of a wicked smirk playing his features.

"She's furious. Perhaps something's happened to her pet." He drank the last of the blood. "God forbid."

"One can hope ... Shall we inquire?"

"That we shall."

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Log; Complete

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