[Hector sweeps the deck and below, taking note of the oddities. His crew follow behind, untouched by curiosity. ]
It’s warm. [He remarks, pressing a hand to the pipes. Whatever strange mechanism powers this ship, it is working. Hector’s practically vibrating with excitement.
In a ship left without guards, seemingly without defenses, the locked door may as well be a target. Hector cannot go anywhere but there.]
Break it open. [He orders his men. They are more used to ranking down or prying open doors made of thick wood, but Hector assumes they can make do. No one has appeared yet to stop them, so they have time. Stealth, it seems, is also of no concern. If there is anyone within, drawing them out would only help.
He steps back and lets the burliest members of his crew take his place, raising their battering ram. If that makes no dent, Hector will have them use gun powder, but he’d rather not risk harming the vessel and depleting their supply unless he has to.]
[The door does give in after putting up a fight. It is a hard won thing, requiring a good dozen or so attempts with the ram before anything falls open. And there are...stairs. Only stairs, and it's no surprise that there is a third deck on this vessel. There are, actually, four, but the fourth level is a thing meant for dealing with waste and all those other disgusting things that life at sea must address.
So down and down. These steps are metal, unlike all the wood elsewhere on the ship, and pipes run down beside the steps. Whatever lies at the heart of this ghost ship, everything seems to originate there and...
...and it is an open space, the decor of it a little too close to the golden geometric patterns of Dracula. They're apparent on the floor, along the walls, splayed across the ceiling. It is the center where things become much stranger, for there a coffin remains, tilted upright at a 45 degree angle upon a dias. There's great containers of blood flanking each side of the coffin, and if anything is within, it shows no life.
But the blood is moving it seems, constantly trying to balance between the two containers it's in. Here, the silence of the ghost ship is no boon at all. It's a threat, lingering and heavy.]
[Hector is, of course, the first one down the stairs, lantern in hand. The undead crew that trail behind don’t really need the light, and they lumber behind, slow but steady.]
What is this? [Hector whispers into the oppressive silence to break it. He knows what in the basic sense- great vats of blood- but why?
He presses a hand to one of the glass containers, smudging the dust as he checks the temperature of it.
Finally, he can take it no longer. Worse than any cat, Hector always needs to look inside, no matter what toll his curiosity takes.
Not bothering to wait for his crew to all gather round and ready themselves, Hector approaches the coffin and puts a hand to the lid to check it.]
[The glass containers are warm to the touch, kept at a tempterature that is, perhaps unsurprisingly given the company that Hector keeps these days, about the temperature of an average human. There's no reaction to the touch either - just the mark of Hector's fingers over the fine patina of dust and salt that has settled over the apparatuses.
But oh, what lies within. The coffin is not locked, and once the lid is touched, it moves quietly and without anyone else's help. Automata are not strange among Dracula's things, and so much of this ghost ship appears to use if not outright copy the finest of the vampirate king's ships.
There is a moment of silence as the figure held within the coffin wakes. He can't be much older than Hector - if anything, he's probably younger - all soft golden hair that contrasts with a truly gnarled scar that slices right down his chest. It misses major organs, oh yes, but only barely.
And then those eyes snap open, gold staring up at Hector for just a moment before the figure begins to float upwards.]
[Hector takes a few hasty steps back as the figure in the coffin opens his eyes. The alien grace and striking features can only mean vampire, and he knows how little they like to be waked from their slumber.
The figure rises, the show-off, using the strange powers of their race that Hector has tried and failed to catalog in his notes.
Hector has a scimitar on one hip and his forging hammer on the other, but so far, he's drawn neither. Vampire doesn't necessarily equal 'enemy' in his head, though he's certainly prepared to arm himself if needed. One doesn't survive among the vampire pirate court by being trusting.]
You've gone through quite a lot of trouble to entomb yourself at sea. Were you hoping to avoid attention?
[It seems like perhaps this golden sleeping man was, but he has to know that a giant ghostly ship would pique the curiosity of every sailor on the seas, right?]
[Oh, it's absolutely showing off. But it is also Alucard testing to determine how atrophied his muscles are following his rest, a piece of information desperately needed. They are...manageable, and so he lands on the ground in front of the coffin with the same sort of grace other vampires exude.
He ignores the weapons on Hector, seeing neither as a true threat. The hammer is curious, oh yes, but he'll say nothing. Make Hector reveal himself rather than have an interrogation.]
I was, yes. [And until now, he has managed.] What year is it?
((I’m going with the Golden Age of Piracy, if that’s cool.))
[Hmm, that’s a telling question.]
1650.
[He studies the figure for any clues to his time frame, but with no dated articles of clothing and the typical anachronism of the vampire’s ship, Hector can’t get a read. He’s uncomfortably aware that he’s the only thing in this room with a pulse, and this vampire could be very, very hungry.
[The vampire does nothing more than close his eyes, take a deep breath, and then open his eyes again. Then all he does is walk right back over to the coffin, retrieving the shirt and coat in there.]
I slept the appropriate amount of time, it seems, as my ship's defenses are clearly no longer functioning as they should.
[Hector bristles at the vampire's words. He draws himself up to his full height, which is slightly enhanced by the tricorn hat, but not enough to equal the vampire's.]
What makes you think they're not functioning?
[He is one of Dracula's pirate captains, and he will not be dismissed like some schoolboy wandering into a meeting of his elders. The bastard is turning his back to Hector and causally dressing, as if Hector be no threat at all!]
I came to bring the Ghost Ship back to my lord's fleet.
[A bold declaration, but Hector's temper is rising and his pride outweighs his good sense.]
I heard no commotion from any of the decks that otherwise would have informed me that someone borded the vessel. I usually do not engage with the precious few who board the ship, as those defenses keep them from reaching my place of rest.
[Alucard looks more thoughtful than genuinely concerned by this security blip, but that changes in a hot second. Hector's goal? That's not allowed.
So he turns to Hector with an all too calm face. His correction is simple. Firm. Unyielding.]
No. You will do no such thing.
[Yet no part of Alucard moves to attack. The sword remains sheathed.]
[True, Hector had encountered little resistance upon boarding. The difficult part had been locating the ship in the first place. He can't help but wonder what sort of excitement he missed out on, what secrets of this place have been undone by the passing of time.]
And why not? [He crosses his arms and tilts his chin up in stubbornness.] This ship must have been stolen from Lord Dracula. No one else can make vessels such as these. And it's not like you're even making real use of it. You can go sleep somewhere else if you don't wish to be brought before him.
[Hector's really a pretty terrible pirate. He's not included to pillage or rape, and taking a prisoner is entirely too much work when he could let someone go. If it wasn't for his necromancy, he'd be entirely unsuited for Dracula's pirate ranks.]
This ship was a gift from the same man. [Alucard meets Hector's eyes, knowing that how that statement lands will come to define the rest of this encountered.]
I am making no advanced use of it because I needed the peace and quiet to heal. I can also tell you that should you attempt to take this ship or myself before him, you'll bring more disapproval down upon your head than I believe you anticipate. My father likely has ordered this vessel left be.
[He hears Dracula's voice in his memories, telling him just that. 'Forget the Ghost Ship, Hector. Pay it no mind.'.]
Your father...
[There are rumors of that falling out, whispers that choke into terrified silence at the Lord Dracula's approach, sea shanties of a great battle that the pirates only dare to sing of when they are blind-drunk on rum and feeling defiant. That little family squabble happened well before Hector's time, so much so that Hector wasn't sure if the legendary 'Alucard' actually existed, or if he was just a poetic device invented as a foil for the Demon Lord of the Seas.
Well, here is is, and if he doesn't kill Hector for this, Lord Dracula will.]
Well, fuck me. [He exclaims. He needs to sit down. A plague of scurvy on this damned Vampire Lordling for not having so pedestrian a thing as a chair or a bench on his damned ship. There's a voice in his head, roaring with laughter at his misfortune, and it sounds the way he imagines Isaac would sound, if the suck-up bastard was capable of laughing.]
[Alucard remembers all of that horrid night. Cannons against cannons, undead things against undead things and...retreat. Because Alucard needed to live and fight again. Of the ships he had, only this one survived. The one he once jokingly called the coffin ship due to the fact it held a bed that he never wanted to use, and so it became a supply ship for the other two in his tiny fleet instead.
The entire ship thing in the first place, it was a way to laugh in defiance of the old tales of how vampires could not cross running water. To have a ship's hold was to have a safe guard against sun, so long as a crew of thralls or otherwise extremely willing mortal men and women saw the opportunity as one worth taking. Somehow it all evolved into a new vampire society (his mother had once said vampirate and Dracula looked pained for days). One that let mortals in, just a little, and so had to allow for mortal needs. Then his mother had waltzed into his father's life, and all went well until she was accused of a combination of witchcraft and piracy. A first, of sorts. The scourge of humanity would be removed from the seas first, unable to warn land dwellers of attacks, and then the whole of man wold be removed. In time.]
Leave. You never found this ship.
[He shouldn't let Hector go. But it's a bigger risk to kill him and alert Dracula that his son is awake.]
[It's stupid and stubborn, pretending as if the hardest part of the story to swallow is not the reappearance of the seemingly long-dead son of the immortal pirate vampire lord, but the hair color. Alucard takes after his mother, obviously. Hector's caught glimpses of her portrait in Dracula's cabin before.
Hector paces, turn between the door and the vampire...no, dhampir, he supposes. He should leave. The son had nearly rivaled the father, and Hector knows Dracula's power far outmatches his own.
...but he snuck away, sailing out under cover of darkness, and he can't come back without making some sort of accounting for his disappearance.]
No. I'm not returning empty-handed.
[Dracula has been closer to a patron than a captain to him at times, but whatever reserved affection he has for his human admiral, Hector can't imagine it will extend to forgiving him an act of mutiny.]
[He's almost all of Lisa with none of his father's looks. Alucard has always been aware of it, and he has wondered for some time if it was the reason his father didn't kill him outright. Some kind of sad attempt to keep one shred of Lisa Tepes alive in the world.
Or maybe fear of reprisal from her spirit.
As Hector goes towards the door, Alucard quietly closes up the coffin lid, and then walks to where the machinery and mechanisms of the blood controls are so that he can adjust them. They'll be enough food for now, and then he will have to make port. The ship needs a name. The Demeter perhaps.
But then Hector declares that he won't leave without something, and Alucard stiffens.]
Then attack some nearby vessel and for those aboard it to sink and be set adrift on lifeboats across the sea. There is naught on this ship.
Why should I punish some other ship when my target—
[He cuts himself off. Hector really is a terrible pirate. He has no love for people, but he doesn’t hate them. He can justify striking out at strategic vessels to se Lord Dracula’s campaign furthered, but blindly attacking the first ship he sees? There is no cause for it.
He should know better than to say that, though.]
My lord will have his prize. [He says, voice flat and resolute. As long as he has his compass, built with a spirit of navigation houses within it to guide the needle, he can lead Dracula back to this place.
He stalks to the door. The crewman begin to stir, parting for Hector before falling in behind him. As much as he hates to use them this way, they are a shield between himself and the dhampir as he begins his retreat.]
Your target was this ship, but with what aim? [Alucard's keen eyes peer from around the blood apparatuses.] What would you have done if this ship was truly empty, if it was naught but wood and technology, if I wasn't aboard it?
[Alucard knows his father. Alucard knows the company his father keeps. It was a bad plan.]
I was set here and permitted to remain for a reason. Consider that before you do something foolish.
[Alucard knows that in the next few moments, he will have to react. Defend himself. But before that happens, it feels only proper to give Hector a chance to back down off this ledge. He seems ill suited for the work that's about to come.
[His aim was for Dracula to look upon Hector and know that the faith he'd placed in the necromancer was not wasted. Not that he'd expect the prodigal son to understand that. What would he know of loyalty?
Hector stops and turns to face Alucard.]
Had this ship been empty, I would have sailed it back to my lord's fleet so that he would know once and for all that it would no longer plague his waters. Then his damned admirals would stop their whispering and serve him properly.
[The Ghost Ship is a symbol of chaos, of a force Dracula does not and cannot control. Bringing it to the fleet would reassert Dracula's absolute dominion over the seas. And then his lord will be proud of Hector.]
I think it must have been many years since that decision was made. I'll leave it to my lord as to whether it still stands.
[Alucard steps away from the machinery, and now his face is firm and grim. He doesn't like this. To be awakened and already deal with impossible choices, he...he can't. Not really.]
For if the fight favors me, then I must restrain you and your absence will attract my father's attention. Should it go for you, then I am most certaintly going to my death. I beg that you consider the fact that in all the time since that inital decision was made, this place was left be.
[He cannot imagine a world where Dracula will have joy in seeing his son again.]
No part of me is surprised that he is ruling over a squabbling armada. Vampires have always been like that, and bad at being a cohesive group.
[Uncertainty flickers across Hector's face. Alucard considers a return to his father a death sentence. Even with that in mind, Alucard would restrain Hector, not kill him. It's...not what Hector excepted of the son of Dracula.]
If you won, you could kill me and leave my ship to be found in pieces. There are rogue pirates or hunters' ships who could be blamed for it.
[Hector doesn't like that option, but he needs to know why Alucard isn't considering it. Does he truly just want to be left alone to keep floating around in his empty ship?]
Your father is the only one who can unite them. If they had no leader, they would kill without restraint.
[Hector has no love for any of the other vampires in Dracula's fleet. It is for Dracula alone he stays with them.]
No. [Alucard shakes his head. Finally, his hand has come to grip the hilt of his sword.] They know which ship you went looking for, don't they? They'll assume that I am returned.
[Death is something he wants to avoid if at all possible right now. Hector's made it inevitable, unless he decides to retreat and at least give Alucard a window to at least acquire a small crew.]
So they would kill for themselves, instead of in my mother's name. The only reason they have ever stayed in line is because of my father's power, and as you have made clear, that is already on the decline. Propping him up just....gives them time to pretend to be clever about rebelling.
[UMMMM. Hector is conspicuously silent in the wake of Alucard's question. It probably would have been smart to let someone know where he was going, if he hadn't been expressly forbidden from going after the Ghost Ship.
He also has little to say in the face of Alucard's frank assessment of the political situation. He's had the same thoughts, privately. Dracula has the tiger by the tail, and he can't let go, and is showing himself less and less inclined to keep a firm hold.]
He... [It's hard to lie to the man's son, who knows him better than Hector could ever hope to. He can't pretend that the situation is not as it is.] ...he has the capacity for greatness. I thought, if I could help him remember that, it might reawaken in him. The rest of the vampires are bloodthirsty sociopaths, but Dracula is different.
[The vampire who had found Hector and mentored him was still there, beneath the depression and ennui. Hector just had not found the catalyst yet to restore him. He had hoped that by removing the Ghost Ship and reaffirming Dracula's complete dominion over the seas, his lord would remember the man he'd once been.]
[A single word, and deep, deep sorrow in it. Alucard has no joy in anything he is about to say, and in truth, every word Hector has uttered has done naught but pain him. His father's grief has swallowed him hole, and madness has worn everything else away.]
Going by everything you have said, he is still consumed by grief and is inclined to continue to sink into it, until the quicksand fully engulfs him and he finally ends himself in whatever stupid blaze of glory he thinks will show the world how wrong they were to murder my mother.
[His father may very well be irrecoverable. But Alucard had thought that far too early on in this disaster.]
And your plan is, what, to just secret yourself away until he destroys himself?
[He's angry on his lord's behalf. Angry that his master's own son has given up on him. It's hypocritical. Hector has wondered, during some of the bloodier battles he's fought on Dracula's behalf, whether it wouldn't be better for Hector to set sail for the sunset with his pets, to find a place beyond Dracula's reach to flee to. But he hasn't. He'd held on to hope that reason will triumph over grief.]
There has to be a way to quell his wrath. I thought it might be this ship, but that's obviously wrong. You will do nothing for him.
[Hector's brain can't fathom an immeasurable grief. There must be an end to it, some marker they will reach when they present him the right prize or kill the right enemy, that will finally fill the depths and let him move on. It's only logical. Everything on this world is finite, and so this must be too. All beings have the innate drive for survival hardwired in, and Dracula cannot take his revenge so far as to actually destroy himself...right?]
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It’s warm. [He remarks, pressing a hand to the pipes. Whatever strange mechanism powers this ship, it is working. Hector’s practically vibrating with excitement.
In a ship left without guards, seemingly without defenses, the locked door may as well be a target. Hector cannot go anywhere but there.]
Break it open. [He orders his men. They are more used to ranking down or prying open doors made of thick wood, but Hector assumes they can make do. No one has appeared yet to stop them, so they have time. Stealth, it seems, is also of no concern. If there is anyone within, drawing them out would only help.
He steps back and lets the burliest members of his crew take his place, raising their battering ram. If that makes no dent, Hector will have them use gun powder, but he’d rather not risk harming the vessel and depleting their supply unless he has to.]
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So down and down. These steps are metal, unlike all the wood elsewhere on the ship, and pipes run down beside the steps. Whatever lies at the heart of this ghost ship, everything seems to originate there and...
...and it is an open space, the decor of it a little too close to the golden geometric patterns of Dracula. They're apparent on the floor, along the walls, splayed across the ceiling. It is the center where things become much stranger, for there a coffin remains, tilted upright at a 45 degree angle upon a dias. There's great containers of blood flanking each side of the coffin, and if anything is within, it shows no life.
But the blood is moving it seems, constantly trying to balance between the two containers it's in. Here, the silence of the ghost ship is no boon at all. It's a threat, lingering and heavy.]
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What is this? [Hector whispers into the oppressive silence to break it. He knows what in the basic sense- great vats of blood- but why?
He presses a hand to one of the glass containers, smudging the dust as he checks the temperature of it.
Finally, he can take it no longer. Worse than any cat, Hector always needs to look inside, no matter what toll his curiosity takes.
Not bothering to wait for his crew to all gather round and ready themselves, Hector approaches the coffin and puts a hand to the lid to check it.]
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But oh, what lies within. The coffin is not locked, and once the lid is touched, it moves quietly and without anyone else's help. Automata are not strange among Dracula's things, and so much of this ghost ship appears to use if not outright copy the finest of the vampirate king's ships.
There is a moment of silence as the figure held within the coffin wakes. He can't be much older than Hector - if anything, he's probably younger - all soft golden hair that contrasts with a truly gnarled scar that slices right down his chest. It misses major organs, oh yes, but only barely.
And then those eyes snap open, gold staring up at Hector for just a moment before the figure begins to float upwards.]
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The figure rises, the show-off, using the strange powers of their race that Hector has tried and failed to catalog in his notes.
Hector has a scimitar on one hip and his forging hammer on the other, but so far, he's drawn neither. Vampire doesn't necessarily equal 'enemy' in his head, though he's certainly prepared to arm himself if needed. One doesn't survive among the vampire pirate court by being trusting.]
You've gone through quite a lot of trouble to entomb yourself at sea. Were you hoping to avoid attention?
[It seems like perhaps this golden sleeping man was, but he has to know that a giant ghostly ship would pique the curiosity of every sailor on the seas, right?]
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He ignores the weapons on Hector, seeing neither as a true threat. The hammer is curious, oh yes, but he'll say nothing. Make Hector reveal himself rather than have an interrogation.]
I was, yes. [And until now, he has managed.] What year is it?
[For now, he's pleasant.]
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[Hmm, that’s a telling question.]
1650.
[He studies the figure for any clues to his time frame, but with no dated articles of clothing and the typical anachronism of the vampire’s ship, Hector can’t get a read. He’s uncomfortably aware that he’s the only thing in this room with a pulse, and this vampire could be very, very hungry.
He takes another step back.]
Did you oversleep?
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[The vampire does nothing more than close his eyes, take a deep breath, and then open his eyes again. Then all he does is walk right back over to the coffin, retrieving the shirt and coat in there.]
I slept the appropriate amount of time, it seems, as my ship's defenses are clearly no longer functioning as they should.
[He shrugs the shirt on with ease.]
Why are you here, captain?
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What makes you think they're not functioning?
[He is one of Dracula's pirate captains, and he will not be dismissed like some schoolboy wandering into a meeting of his elders. The bastard is turning his back to Hector and causally dressing, as if Hector be no threat at all!]
I came to bring the Ghost Ship back to my lord's fleet.
[A bold declaration, but Hector's temper is rising and his pride outweighs his good sense.]
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[Alucard looks more thoughtful than genuinely concerned by this security blip, but that changes in a hot second. Hector's goal? That's not allowed.
So he turns to Hector with an all too calm face. His correction is simple. Firm. Unyielding.]
No. You will do no such thing.
[Yet no part of Alucard moves to attack. The sword remains sheathed.]
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And why not? [He crosses his arms and tilts his chin up in stubbornness.] This ship must have been stolen from Lord Dracula. No one else can make vessels such as these. And it's not like you're even making real use of it. You can go sleep somewhere else if you don't wish to be brought before him.
[Hector's really a pretty terrible pirate. He's not included to pillage or rape, and taking a prisoner is entirely too much work when he could let someone go. If it wasn't for his necromancy, he'd be entirely unsuited for Dracula's pirate ranks.]
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I am making no advanced use of it because I needed the peace and quiet to heal. I can also tell you that should you attempt to take this ship or myself before him, you'll bring more disapproval down upon your head than I believe you anticipate. My father likely has ordered this vessel left be.
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...what?...
[He hears Dracula's voice in his memories, telling him just that. 'Forget the Ghost Ship, Hector. Pay it no mind.'.]
Your father...
[There are rumors of that falling out, whispers that choke into terrified silence at the Lord Dracula's approach, sea shanties of a great battle that the pirates only dare to sing of when they are blind-drunk on rum and feeling defiant. That little family squabble happened well before Hector's time, so much so that Hector wasn't sure if the legendary 'Alucard' actually existed, or if he was just a poetic device invented as a foil for the Demon Lord of the Seas.
Well, here is is, and if he doesn't kill Hector for this, Lord Dracula will.]
Well, fuck me. [He exclaims. He needs to sit down. A plague of scurvy on this damned Vampire Lordling for not having so pedestrian a thing as a chair or a bench on his damned ship. There's a voice in his head, roaring with laughter at his misfortune, and it sounds the way he imagines Isaac would sound, if the suck-up bastard was capable of laughing.]
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[Alucard remembers all of that horrid night. Cannons against cannons, undead things against undead things and...retreat. Because Alucard needed to live and fight again. Of the ships he had, only this one survived. The one he once jokingly called the coffin ship due to the fact it held a bed that he never wanted to use, and so it became a supply ship for the other two in his tiny fleet instead.
The entire ship thing in the first place, it was a way to laugh in defiance of the old tales of how vampires could not cross running water. To have a ship's hold was to have a safe guard against sun, so long as a crew of thralls or otherwise extremely willing mortal men and women saw the opportunity as one worth taking. Somehow it all evolved into a new vampire society (his mother had once said vampirate and Dracula looked pained for days). One that let mortals in, just a little, and so had to allow for mortal needs. Then his mother had waltzed into his father's life, and all went well until she was accused of a combination of witchcraft and piracy. A first, of sorts. The scourge of humanity would be removed from the seas first, unable to warn land dwellers of attacks, and then the whole of man wold be removed. In time.]
Leave. You never found this ship.
[He shouldn't let Hector go. But it's a bigger risk to kill him and alert Dracula that his son is awake.]
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[It's stupid and stubborn, pretending as if the hardest part of the story to swallow is not the reappearance of the seemingly long-dead son of the immortal pirate vampire lord, but the hair color. Alucard takes after his mother, obviously. Hector's caught glimpses of her portrait in Dracula's cabin before.
Hector paces, turn between the door and the vampire...no, dhampir, he supposes. He should leave. The son had nearly rivaled the father, and Hector knows Dracula's power far outmatches his own.
...but he snuck away, sailing out under cover of darkness, and he can't come back without making some sort of accounting for his disappearance.]
No. I'm not returning empty-handed.
[Dracula has been closer to a patron than a captain to him at times, but whatever reserved affection he has for his human admiral, Hector can't imagine it will extend to forgiving him an act of mutiny.]
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[He's almost all of Lisa with none of his father's looks. Alucard has always been aware of it, and he has wondered for some time if it was the reason his father didn't kill him outright. Some kind of sad attempt to keep one shred of Lisa Tepes alive in the world.
Or maybe fear of reprisal from her spirit.
As Hector goes towards the door, Alucard quietly closes up the coffin lid, and then walks to where the machinery and mechanisms of the blood controls are so that he can adjust them. They'll be enough food for now, and then he will have to make port. The ship needs a name. The Demeter perhaps.
But then Hector declares that he won't leave without something, and Alucard stiffens.]
Then attack some nearby vessel and for those aboard it to sink and be set adrift on lifeboats across the sea. There is naught on this ship.
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Why should I punish some other ship when my target—
[He cuts himself off. Hector really is a terrible pirate. He has no love for people, but he doesn’t hate them. He can justify striking out at strategic vessels to se Lord Dracula’s campaign furthered, but blindly attacking the first ship he sees? There is no cause for it.
He should know better than to say that, though.]
My lord will have his prize.
[He says, voice flat and resolute. As long as he has his compass, built with a spirit of navigation houses within it to guide the needle, he can lead Dracula back to this place.
He stalks to the door. The crewman begin to stir, parting for Hector before falling in behind him. As much as he hates to use them this way, they are a shield between himself and the dhampir as he begins his retreat.]
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[Alucard knows his father. Alucard knows the company his father keeps. It was a bad plan.]
I was set here and permitted to remain for a reason. Consider that before you do something foolish.
[Alucard knows that in the next few moments, he will have to react. Defend himself. But before that happens, it feels only proper to give Hector a chance to back down off this ledge. He seems ill suited for the work that's about to come.
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Hector stops and turns to face Alucard.]
Had this ship been empty, I would have sailed it back to my lord's fleet so that he would know once and for all that it would no longer plague his waters. Then his damned admirals would stop their whispering and serve him properly.
[The Ghost Ship is a symbol of chaos, of a force Dracula does not and cannot control. Bringing it to the fleet would reassert Dracula's absolute dominion over the seas.
And then his lord will be proud of Hector.]I think it must have been many years since that decision was made. I'll leave it to my lord as to whether it still stands.
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[Alucard steps away from the machinery, and now his face is firm and grim. He doesn't like this. To be awakened and already deal with impossible choices, he...he can't. Not really.]
For if the fight favors me, then I must restrain you and your absence will attract my father's attention. Should it go for you, then I am most certaintly going to my death. I beg that you consider the fact that in all the time since that inital decision was made, this place was left be.
[He cannot imagine a world where Dracula will have joy in seeing his son again.]
No part of me is surprised that he is ruling over a squabbling armada. Vampires have always been like that, and bad at being a cohesive group.
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If you won, you could kill me and leave my ship to be found in pieces. There are rogue pirates or hunters' ships who could be blamed for it.
[Hector doesn't like that option, but he needs to know why Alucard isn't considering it. Does he truly just want to be left alone to keep floating around in his empty ship?]
Your father is the only one who can unite them. If they had no leader, they would kill without restraint.
[Hector has no love for any of the other vampires in Dracula's fleet. It is for Dracula alone he stays with them.]
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[Death is something he wants to avoid if at all possible right now. Hector's made it inevitable, unless he decides to retreat and at least give Alucard a window to at least acquire a small crew.]
So they would kill for themselves, instead of in my mother's name. The only reason they have ever stayed in line is because of my father's power, and as you have made clear, that is already on the decline. Propping him up just....gives them time to pretend to be clever about rebelling.
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He also has little to say in the face of Alucard's frank assessment of the political situation. He's had the same thoughts, privately. Dracula has the tiger by the tail, and he can't let go, and is showing himself less and less inclined to keep a firm hold.]
He... [It's hard to lie to the man's son, who knows him better than Hector could ever hope to. He can't pretend that the situation is not as it is.] ...he has the capacity for greatness. I thought, if I could help him remember that, it might reawaken in him. The rest of the vampires are bloodthirsty sociopaths, but Dracula is different.
[The vampire who had found Hector and mentored him was still there, beneath the depression and ennui. Hector just had not found the catalyst yet to restore him. He had hoped that by removing the Ghost Ship and reaffirming Dracula's complete dominion over the seas, his lord would remember the man he'd once been.]
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[A single word, and deep, deep sorrow in it. Alucard has no joy in anything he is about to say, and in truth, every word Hector has uttered has done naught but pain him. His father's grief has swallowed him hole, and madness has worn everything else away.]
Going by everything you have said, he is still consumed by grief and is inclined to continue to sink into it, until the quicksand fully engulfs him and he finally ends himself in whatever stupid blaze of glory he thinks will show the world how wrong they were to murder my mother.
[His father may very well be irrecoverable. But Alucard had thought that far too early on in this disaster.]
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[He's angry on his lord's behalf. Angry that his master's own son has given up on him. It's hypocritical. Hector has wondered, during some of the bloodier battles he's fought on Dracula's behalf, whether it wouldn't be better for Hector to set sail for the sunset with his pets, to find a place beyond Dracula's reach to flee to. But he hasn't. He'd held on to hope that reason will triumph over grief.]
There has to be a way to quell his wrath. I thought it might be this ship, but that's obviously wrong. You will do nothing for him.
[Hector's brain can't fathom an immeasurable grief. There must be an end to it, some marker they will reach when they present him the right prize or kill the right enemy, that will finally fill the depths and let him move on. It's only logical. Everything on this world is finite, and so this must be too. All beings have the innate drive for survival hardwired in, and Dracula cannot take his revenge so far as to actually destroy himself...right?]
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