[Alucard has no love of the church and it's holy mysteries, but he understands the enshrinement of the remains of saints. Their bones, their most incorruptible parts, they're encased in precious metals and studded with jewels. In the low candle lighting of churches, the bones and flesh shine, a beacon of the divine for those who believe. For those who see the world as they think it is, not for it's true nature.
So it must go with this skull as it stares up from an ancient nest upon the beach. The lighting is terrible, but isn't that always the point? It draws the eye towards it. The scent that hangs in the air dances a line between a holy incense or smells used for entombment, and Alucard can't determine which.
He glares at the thing, offended by the rising to sit.]
It seems unfair that a memento mori such as yourself will not be as articulate as you demand of others.
[There's no response. Why would there be? A saint's bones do not need to speak, they only need to inspire.
The dhampir scowls.]
Whatever you think you can force out of me can wait a while longer.
[Into the fog. Into the darkness, whose embrace feels far more welcome, the low cover growing thicker and thicker. There's a point where the ocean and the horizon line become one and--
--gold eyes glare out from what Alucard thinks to be the ocean now, the fog so thick that it is impossible to tell. What sends him reeling is the stench of wet, especially as a bloated hand rests on his shoulders.
The sound that follows is feral, and the sudden splash of water can be heard from a distance. That's one bloated corpse pushed back into the water.]
I. The Temple [In retrospect, talking to the compulsion skull was probably the better choice than fighting a whole bunch of wet animated corpses. Alucard can admit that much now, as he stands just outside of the temple, taking in the air. It is still night, and it seems like that may run on forever. His hair is still wet from corpse wrangling, and his clothing is only just freshly changed.
This is not a good vantage point to see the rest of the city. That's fine by him, for the art deco style runs a little too close to some of the patterns found within the castle Alucard grew up in.
He lets out a soft sigh, eyes fixed on the horizon. This place seemed to swell with celebrations late into the night, music seeming to echo from every part of the city.]
Mm. This seems the only quiet place here save the shoreline.
Wildcard Alucard's going to be sticking on the outskirts for the first few days before getting his exploration on. Feel free to PM me if you want something specific!
Alucard | Castlevania
[Alucard has no love of the church and it's holy mysteries, but he understands the enshrinement of the remains of saints. Their bones, their most incorruptible parts, they're encased in precious metals and studded with jewels. In the low candle lighting of churches, the bones and flesh shine, a beacon of the divine for those who believe. For those who see the world as they think it is, not for it's true nature.
So it must go with this skull as it stares up from an ancient nest upon the beach. The lighting is terrible, but isn't that always the point? It draws the eye towards it. The scent that hangs in the air dances a line between a holy incense or smells used for entombment, and Alucard can't determine which.
He glares at the thing, offended by the rising to sit.]
It seems unfair that a memento mori such as yourself will not be as articulate as you demand of others.
[There's no response. Why would there be? A saint's bones do not need to speak, they only need to inspire.
The dhampir scowls.]
Whatever you think you can force out of me can wait a while longer.
[Into the fog. Into the darkness, whose embrace feels far more welcome, the low cover growing thicker and thicker. There's a point where the ocean and the horizon line become one and--
--gold eyes glare out from what Alucard thinks to be the ocean now, the fog so thick that it is impossible to tell. What sends him reeling is the stench of wet, especially as a bloated hand rests on his shoulders.
The sound that follows is feral, and the sudden splash of water can be heard from a distance. That's one bloated corpse pushed back into the water.]
I. The Temple
[In retrospect, talking to the compulsion skull was probably the better choice than fighting a whole bunch of wet animated corpses. Alucard can admit that much now, as he stands just outside of the temple, taking in the air. It is still night, and it seems like that may run on forever. His hair is still wet from corpse wrangling, and his clothing is only just freshly changed.
This is not a good vantage point to see the rest of the city. That's fine by him, for the art deco style runs a little too close to some of the patterns found within the castle Alucard grew up in.
He lets out a soft sigh, eyes fixed on the horizon. This place seemed to swell with celebrations late into the night, music seeming to echo from every part of the city.]
Mm. This seems the only quiet place here save the shoreline.
Wildcard
Alucard's going to be sticking on the outskirts for the first few days before getting his exploration on. Feel free to PM me if you want something specific!