[Outwardly, Hector walks with the arrogant swagger he's cultivated among the devil's court. Cold, aloof... with his ridiculous little dog following in his shadow, but there's no help for that.
Inwardly, he is close to turning and pretending he never had this idea. It's a terrible, terrible plan.
He has no choice, though. He saw the indifference of his lord to his own son. He knows the conditions of the cells. Alucard doesn't deserve that.
...and Dracula, a remnant of his former self, would not have wanted that. For the sake of the man he'd once been, Hector must intervene. No one will accuse him of loyalty, but he owes Lord Dracula that much.
It's about a quarter hour to sunrise. The vampires are retreating to their inner chambers, but not yet on high alert the way they get if they hear movement around them when the sun is up.
Hector has been in his forge all the night, both to avoid giving Carmilla a chance for retaliation and to present the illusion of normalcy. It's not unlike him to be wandering so late...early...after a night of work, and he takes the turn through the cells as if on a whim. 'Oh, the son of Dracula is kept within, riiiight. Might as well peek in.'
He swings open the door, acutely aware of the creaking noise it makes. Cesar rushes in and over to the dhampir, but Hector stays further back. His back blocks the little barred window set into the door, hiding from view the little forged gremlin that climbs out of his vest and begins to fiddle with the silver locks.]
Is your homecoming everything you thought it would be?
[He asks, voice pitched to 'taunting'. He hopes it can cover the soft clicks of the gremlin's lock-picking from supernaturally perceptive ears.]
no subject
Inwardly, he is close to turning and pretending he never had this idea. It's a terrible, terrible plan.
He has no choice, though. He saw the indifference of his lord to his own son. He knows the conditions of the cells. Alucard doesn't deserve that.
...and Dracula, a remnant of his former self, would not have wanted that. For the sake of the man he'd once been, Hector must intervene. No one will accuse him of loyalty, but he owes Lord Dracula that much.
It's about a quarter hour to sunrise. The vampires are retreating to their inner chambers, but not yet on high alert the way they get if they hear movement around them when the sun is up.
Hector has been in his forge all the night, both to avoid giving Carmilla a chance for retaliation and to present the illusion of normalcy. It's not unlike him to be wandering so late...early...after a night of work, and he takes the turn through the cells as if on a whim. 'Oh, the son of Dracula is kept within, riiiight. Might as well peek in.'
He swings open the door, acutely aware of the creaking noise it makes. Cesar rushes in and over to the dhampir, but Hector stays further back. His back blocks the little barred window set into the door, hiding from view the little forged gremlin that climbs out of his vest and begins to fiddle with the silver locks.]
Is your homecoming everything you thought it would be?
[He asks, voice pitched to 'taunting'. He hopes it can cover the soft clicks of the gremlin's lock-picking from supernaturally perceptive ears.]