[Twi]Chronicles of the Impaler!!!!: Crisis of Infinite Draculas!!!

[Colesign]

OOC Thread Here

Twlight: The Lynching Presents...

Chronicles of The Impaler: Crisis of Infinite Draculas!!!

Dracula, the King of Darkness, Lord of Vampires, the Red Nightmare of Wallachia, the Impaler, and the Son of the Dragon, lies in his coffin and dreams.

He is alone in his castle. Cobwebs cake every torch holder, crevice, pillar, and archway. The Brides have been sated for the night on peasant flesh, and a cold, empty, deathly wind blows through those empty halls. Out in the night, amongst the cliffs and withered forest beyond the castle grounds, wolves howl, and pale blue wisps dance back and forth over the burial sites of long lost treasure.

And at a modern office desk of oak with many drawers, imported from London at great expense, an anomaly in these old baroque halls, a withered hand dips a feather pen into an ink pot and delicately scrawls out a letter:

My Friend,–Welcome to the Carpathians. I am anxiously expecting you. Sleep well tonight. At three tomorrow the diligence will start for Bukovina; a place on it is kept for you. At the Borgo Pass my carriage will await you and will bring you to me. I trust that your journey from London has been a happy one, and that you will enjoy your stay in my beautiful land.– Your friend,

D.

He set the letter aside to dry, and shivered. Not from the cold air, no: such things were not for the dead and damned to feel. It was something that his withered flesh had not felt for ages.

Excitement. The old lust for battle that had led the men of Wallachia against the Heathens, striking terror into those circumcised dogs for God and Nation. Soon yes, soon he would go to war again, war against civilization itself. And he would either win or die. And the possibilities of both were ever so thrilling to him. He could not help but smile widely, his ancient, cruel, brooding, yet childlike brain counting down the moments before a young Real Estate Clerk from England would arrive with papers...

"Ah, Count." Van Helsing said with a sigh. "You've alway been an irredeemable warmonger, haven't you?"

Dracula looked up with a start, and the Dutch Doctor drove a sharpened length of White Ash right through his heart...


Alucard

You wake up with a gasp. Such dreams you've had of a similar nature, but this: this is new...

Then you notice that you're no longer in the Hellsing Organisation's mansion, and you cannot sense Integra or any of the living soldiers. You are...

As you climb out of your Coffin, you realize you are in your Castle of Old, your home as a Living Prince of Wallachia, and your Mausoleum as a Monster.

And it is not crumbling or decayed. It is new and fresh: the Stones are well cut and solid, the Torches are all lit, and purple banners and well woven tapestries line the walls.

...What is this Insanity???!!!

your are at the gateway, drawbridge currently pulled up.

Vlad the Impaler, Designate Lancer

You come to within the remains of a summoning Pentacle, the surrounding candles still smoking. And within your old Castle, abandoned, yet fresh as the day you saw it for the last time.

The connection has been made: you can sense your bond with your Master, but he has not shown himself yet.

Questions run through your head: many questions. But suddenly you hear receding footsteps around the corner of the hallway outside the library you find yourself in.

Draculvania

You arise once more, along with Castlevania itself! And this time, the world shall bow before your will of eternal night at the heels of your immortal army!!! And not even the Belmonts can stop you this time...

...Wait. This isn't Castlevania? What nonsense is this? And where's you're glass of wine?

You Naturally Begin in the Throne Room!!!

The Count (Don't know which one you chose, Industrious: so I'm going do Both At Once)

Your Awaken within your Coffin. It is Currently Upside Down on the Ceiling. You Rise from the Coffin and Walk Around on the Ceiling, Still Upside Down, because that's the sort of **** You Do, As a Soulless Creature Who Cannot Feel a Sorrow, or Rage, or Pity, or Love!!!! You!!! Are!!! Hollowwww!!!

...There are Six, Six Candlesticks in the room! Ha-Ha-Ha!

You begin in the Upside Down Ice Room.

[Cracklord]

Alucard, No-Life King
He awakens, glutted on blood but not sated, his pale skin smeared with dried gore, and his red eyes gleaming animatedly in the darkness, smoldering like a gateway into Hell itself. For a moment he adjusts to the darkness, his habitat, then his teeth gleam. He can feel this castle, it is as much a part of him as his flesh, as the soil he sleeps in, in that it is an extension of his essence.
He can feel it all, his mind stretching out to the furthest reaches to the darkest depths. He can feel the ancient, blood-seeped stones, he can feel the silent, musty emptiness of the chambers beneath the earth, the ancient tomes that fill the library, and the soil filled with gravesoil that renewed his unholy life.
He was here, his first and last resting place.
He stands, his tall form unfolding up in a movement that is far from human, like an uncoiling snake as much as it was like anything, though no being of flesh and blood could entirely replicate it, and stretches. His limbs are long and thin, putting one in mind of a spider, and his mane of long dark hair seemed to vary in length, one moment sweeping the floor, the next cut short.
He smiles, revealing bright white teeth contrasting eerily against the darkness, a terrible crescent that spoke of indifference, even pleasure, at the suffering of others, and a weary sort of self-hate that could only exist by subjugating others to the same pain.
Then he stepped into a shadow, and was gone, reappearing in the throneroom, and stepped over to it, conjuring a glass, then making it vanish as it occurs to him that he had nothing to fill it with. That wouldn't do. That wouldn't do at all.
He had, over a hundred years, shaped Van Helsing's descendants into the sword that would one day be worthy of killing him. But the chance was gone. He would have to adapt.
Once he had declared war on God. He would do it again. He would fill this fortress with legions he found to be worthy, and crush those who were not like so much chattel. Then, in time, he would create his own deadliest enemy as all tyrants did, and he would at last end this dream.
He sat on the throne, sprawling, one leg thrown over the armrest, his head on his fist, and nodded his head, already imagining his kingdom of the dead.

[doliest]

Dracula; Master of Death
Slowly, his eyes creek open as he awakens in a castle not his own; his well kept hair frayed, his body feeling a distinct...weakness. One had had not felt in so very long. His memory felt sketchy at best....where had he...life. He had lived again, after dying for what he had feared was the last time. Then awoken, not as himself; His friend...his friend had tried to fix him...somehow. It was all so...fluid. Shifting.

He pulled himself free of the coffin. He was not nearly as dependent on it as other vampires; it was their life and kingdom. It was merely a comfortable bed for him. No, his resting place, his kingdom, was Castlevania. The twisted eldritch keep he had bound his very existence too. That always reappeared from the nothingness and oblivion that awaited him in death, heralding his return.

As he readies himself, his eyes widen. This....this is not Castlevania. That...was not possible. He existed purely withen his castle; he could leave it, true, but to be revived and not appear in Castlevania? To appear in all his terrible glory, without his castle, was to awaken a man from his sleep, only to find his head was missing.

His wonderings are interrupted, as he turns to see his throne now occupied, You! How was I revived!?

[Cracklord]

Alucard
The bright grin turns, it's full force directed at the other undead, and the eyes harden a little as he begins the course of action when two powerful predators are in the same space and both want the same thing. It begins with posturing and hostility, but unless one or the other backs down it leads inevitably towards violence, as both try to assert themselves as dominant.
"A very good question." He replies, his voice deep and cruel, with a quiet undertone of mirth, as suppressing laughter at somejoke only he got. "Why were you revived? I can't think of any answer at all. You look better suited to the grave. It would probably be best if you remained there."
He stands up, removing the sunglasses and hat, and hanging them on the arm of the throne, then returns his gaze to you. The runes on the back of his hands glow, and leave slight smoky trails through the air as his arms move.

[doliest]

Dracula
Revived away from my castle, and the first I meet hurls petty insults. How....charming. He chuckles; despite the situation, and the insult, he rarely has long to converse before plans must be set into motion. And he's never had the best company, excepting Death and whatever fools revived him this time. And what of you? A little man in in a red coat, dripping of modernity.

With a flick of his wrist, he holds an empty wine glass in his hand, looking at it with vague disgust, Glasses, glasses, everywhere, and yet no wine to drink.

[Cracklord]

Alucard
"I don't drink... wine." Alucard replies, totally stealing your line. "And as it happens, I wear this in memory of the greatest man I've ever met, which was more then a hundred years ago. That might be modern to you, though I always took the time to know what was happening outside my estate. Although even before that I must say I never dressed anything like you. Look at those ridiculous ruffles and cravat. I'd almost ask how you managed to primp so much without a reflection, except then you'd answer me."
Shadows flicker almost imperceptibly around him, and the glow disperses, his outline returning to normal, although the planes in his face seem to have become more apparent and his hair has grown about a foot. He seems unaware of this, it's clear he's a shape-changer and to some extent his form is controlled by his emotions.

[Draxx]

Vlad Teppes
Down flights of stairs and along endless corridors, the servant glides soundlessly, finding it's way through the maze of passages and dead ends with the instincts of a rat in a maze, as it follows the trail of the one that had summoned it. It was tied to it's summoner, by a bond as intangible as love and as real as death.

He is tall, closer to seven feet then six, and judging from his visage, he should have been in his late thirties, with strong features carved by maturity, saturnine and gloomy, somewhat gaunt, but classically well-formed enough to still be handsome. His eyes were deep-set and unblinking, and it was impossible to decide what color they were, though they give the impression of looking into countless fathoms of ice. A high, broad forehead, marks him as an idealist and dreamer, but even so he looked tough enough to make any observer feel like a soft-boiled egg.

He was lean rather then strong, but in a manner that suggested he did not need size for strength and so had discarded it, and wore his grey hair long, his chin covered with a well cropped beard. His clothes were black, riding boots, a coat, tunic and trousers, with the occasional silver buckle the only splashes of color. And he moved with a steady purpose, his every step taking him closer to a goal which he kept to himself.

There was nothing overtly hostile about his movements or his impression, still, one would sleep easier once he was gone.

[Colesign]

Vlad Teppes

{I'm unclear on his specific Servant Powers, so feel free to declare things like 'you sense a presence in the throne room' if it makes sense for you.}

The sound of footsteps you are following suddenly cease. You turn a corner, only to find...nothing. A dead end, as if your Summoner had just vanished into thin air, save for a whiff of what smells like ozone.

The bond is still present, yet distant.

It seems your Summoner, whoever he or she is, does not wish to speak with you just yet.

Everyone

Looking out the window reveals, the beautiful Carpathian Countryside, your home...your Kingdom. For a King is nothing without his Domain, and even in Undeath, this holds doubly True.

A moat surrounds this castle, beyond it are two mountains that form a river valley with forests, fields, and small huddled villages of ignorant superstitious peasants. The sun is setting...and there is fire in the distance, and a smell.

A smell that everyone in the Castle recognizes as War.

[doliest]

Dracula
The ruffles add a certain touch of distinction befitting my position- and I find it's best to remind mortals of your age, lest they forget. And you're one to speak of looks. I maintain my appearance. You shift your form, and yet choose to look like a wild dog? I won't begin to imagine the shape you keep this castle of yours in. Dracula's face has, at this point, fused a disdainful grin in place.

Dracula's head picks up, a dark grin replacing the smirk, Well, dog, it appears as if the locals have come to oust you from your castle. This...should be enjoyable.

[Colesign]

Seras Victoria

You wake up to find your Coffin within the Crypt of the Castle.

It takes you a moment to realize that this isn't the normal crypt within the Hellsing Mansion. It's old: not decaying old, but the oldness of nobility, of aristocratic traditions of internment. Dust and silence fills the air, and unbeknownst to you, in another time, this place was the abode of the Three Brides.

Desperately casting about for anything familiar, you see, lying against the side of the wall...

Your Harkonen Cannons. The Rapidfire and Antitank models both.

...You still can't get over how ridiculously huge they are.

Everyone Else

The smell of war is still wafting through the air, that terrible, wonderful thing that blasts the souls of the weak of heart to chaff and brings for flocks of crows in hordes...

...And in the distance, you can hear, every so often, the explosions of high artillery.

...Something is not as it should be.

Off in the distance, more sensitive ears pick up the 'clip-clop' sound of Horse Hooves.

[darkblade]

Dark Kiva, the King of Checkmate Four

King awakens under a tree in the courtyard, distressed by his dream. Dr. Hellsing, the cursed man, though the King did slay him his writings on the Fangire race made their way to people across the world and they formed an army to oppose the demons that feed on them as the cattle they are. As he came to he looked across the fields and shook his head, this wasn't Castle Doran, or rather it wasn't yet. It was his old fortress no doubt, the one he had bound the last true dragon to but it was still new, not the relic is once was.

"Kivat?" He asked the air waiting for his loyal companion the reply.

The large bat flies out of the tree and lands on his outstretched arm. "Master, I was wondering when you'd recover. It would seem we are in the old country in the old castle. Someone has brought us here..."

The King strokes the demonic bat as he considers his words. If they truly were in old Transylvania then... "The Kingdom?"

"I haven't explored it in full yet for fear of leaving you vulnerable in your sleep but it seems to be there. A battle currently rages outside the front gates." Kivat explains.

"Fangire?" The King asks as he gently pushes his servant off his hand and walks towards the front gate.

"Humans all of them, but there are a few more powerful beings within the Castle itself." Kivat continues. "Two of which defile your throne room."

"Keep an eye on them but stay out of sight. I am going to feed before I confront them." The King says briefly allowing his demonic powers to break his human form illusion as an array of multicoloured stained glass features appear on his throat up to his lower jaw.

"Of course master." The tiny bat flies off into the Castle to watch Dracula and Alucard argue amongst themselves while it's master steps through the front gate.

He looks towards the angry masses gathered there and speaks. "Who is it you seek mortals?"

[Colesign]

Dark Kiva

As the front gates open, a Band of Armored Riders rides through at top speed. Riders bearing the banners of the Order of the Dragon and Wallachia itself. Your Banners!

The Calvarymen rear their horses up, horses frothing at the bit, covered in blood and glistening sweat. The lancers are in a similar state, exhausted, bloodied, and with a glassy sheen of unreality within their eyes.

The Leader of the band, dressed in a Red Surcoat and with a gilded calvary helmet, hands off a lance to one of his men, then dismounts.

"Men of the Dragon!" He shouts striding forward into the Castle. "Summon his Lordship immediately! Man the walls! Heat the Oil Pots! Armies march behind us! Some form of sorcery has scattered and decimated our forces! We must prepare for an assault! Someone! Anyone!"

He spins around desperately, beholding the pristine yet empty Castle, voice rising to a panicked crescendo.

"My Lord! My Lord Boyar! My Lord Dracula! Your subjects await your orders!"

Then he sees you standing in the shadows. He tenses, then pulls a small hand cannon from his horse's saddle.

"Who are you!" He shouts, holding it crooked underneath his arm and pointing it at you. "Show yourself at once, in the name of the Prince of Wallachia!"

Everyone Else

A Calvary Division has just rode in through the Castle Gate.

[darkblade]

Dark Kiva

Dracula? Yes, Count Vlad Drakul, he used that name once to rally himself a crop of humans. A crop that would spring board him to the top of the Fangire Hierarchy. Of course any mortals who were spared by the Fangire would be long dead by now, this was some sort of trickery.

He steps from the shadows calmly, if these men were truly representative of the armies of his time as Dracula then nothing they have could truly hurt him, he had nothing to fear. He lets his jaw revert to it's crystalline form as he says, "Whatever game is being played here does not amuse me."

Before any of the army could make a move against him he calls forth his fangs, a pair of floating blood red glass knives that dive for the leader's throat aiming to drain away his life force.

[Cracklord]

Alucard
"What really separates us monsters from the animals, dandy? But by all means fancy man, if killing mortals is all you're good for then go out and deal with them." Some smiles show mirth. Others merely show teeth. He sniffs the air, like a hound sensing it's quarry is near, then sighs contentedly as the smell reaches his nostrils.

"Do you smell that?" He suddenly says, some of his lordly disdain fading. "I'd know that scent anywhere. Fear and blood and smoke, human waste and burning dreams, courage and desperation, rot and steel. Oh how well I know it. War stalks these hills, taking peace from this earth and tearing away the lives of all who fall under her shadow."

He pauses. He cannot say his name, part of the bindings that held him in the thrall of the noble house of Hellsing kept him from it, as saying his name would free him from them completely, and with the Major's stunt he would likely never see his master again, or free himself from the bindings.

But he can still introduce himself. His shadow seems to stretch and writhe as he talks, growing longer and longer until it's big enough t engulf the whole room. "I am hunger. I am thirst. I can fast for a hundred years and not die. I can lie on the ice for a hundred nights and not freeze. I can drink a river of blood and not burst. I know secrets man will never learn, and can tear apart any army with naught but my own hands. Let us go see our enemies."

[Colesign]

Alucard and Draculvania

You descend from the Throne room to the Castle Entrance, and there beheld a battalion of Calvarymen.

Your Calvarymen, bearing the sable banner of your House, in the day when your hearts still beated!

The Calvary man's Leader you recognize, a Duke named Miceria, a loyal captain of yourself, back in the days of your great war.

"Show yourself at once, in the name of the Prince of Wallachia!" He shouts to a person in the shadows.

That person steps out of the shadows, blood red knives springing into being. "Whatever game is being played here does not amuse me." He intones before attempting to feast upon Duke Miceria's life force.

Do you allow this slight upon your subjects (and chattel) to go unimpeded???

Also, in the distance, there is the sound of repeated explosions, almost like...

Artillery fire.

[doliest]

Dracula
Dracula watches the assault with undisguised amusement. He was not a sadist, mind you. No, rather, some of his 'subjects' had been responsible for his second wife's death. It had been that act which led to his oath to strike down humanity in vengeance. Hm. Wallachia? I thought I had burnt this bridge long ago. And how did either of us come to be in my old castle?

[Cracklord]

Alucard
Miceria. No. It couldn't be him. And yet it had to be.
Alucard had lived close to six hundred years, and part of his curse was a perfect memory. He could remember them all, every face, every victim, every moment. He could remember the long road that had led him to this moment. And yet it couldn't be the Duke, because he could feel the mans soul writhing in the sea of blood that was his soul. An incorrigible monster, they had called him for that, that sacrifice that had set him on this dark road.
Yet the man was alive. Impossible.
Just the same, he had no interest protecting humans from the consequences of their own folly. Once he was their lord and they were his responsibility, but that was a long time ago, and the world had moved on since then. He simply clasped his hands behind his back and floated, hovering a foot in the air and simply watching events unfold with idle curiosity.
Then he pauses. He turns and looks at his companion, and his red eyes flash in surprise, then rage. That was different. That was entirely different. "What did you say?" He asks, very, very softly.

[darkblade]

Dark Kiva

The Fangire King turned to face his counterparts as Kivat flew back into his hand. "You made no effort to warn me of their advances, Kivat."

"I apologize my Lord. They had already begun to leave by the time I returned to the throne room." The bat-like creature explains, it's master seems satisfied with this explanation though.

"It would seem share some common history then." The King says looking over the vampires. "I am to assume you both were also once the Lord of this foul Kingdom?"

[doliest]

Dracula
Dracula raises an eyebrow at Alucard, What? I burnt this land, quite literally. Long ago. It amazes me that any of the nobility have come to live again.

Dracula turns as the Fangire King speaks, Both... He turns to look at Alucard, You mean to say, you are both also the sons of Dracul?

[Cracklord]

Alucard
He turns his burning eyes from Dracula to stare at the other being, and his gaze seemed to drill through him. "You would be presumptuous to address me at all. You haven't earned the right." He replies, his tone goading. It's clear he want's you to be provoked so he can have the joy of tearing you apart. "Which is not to say that you are incorrect."
He takes of his hat which you can't remember him putting back on, and with a sweeping gesture presses it against his chest and executes a half bow. "I am he who was called the hammer of Christendom, the Impaler, son of the Dragon and son of The devil, and lord of this castle. I am Count Vladislaus Drakul. And this is my castle."

Dracula
The Sacred Ancestor was of unimpressive height, and of an unintimidating build. Yet his aura was colossal, almost choking with sheer intensity. He wore regal finery, long outdated yet somehow appropriate and elegant, a mantled greatcoat over an intricate tunic decorated with silver threads, long riding boots and a complex medallion around his neck. Save for his face, his entire body was covered, he even wore a pair of black gloves poking out through his heavy sleeves.
His eyes were narrow, shrewd, powerful, and his nose straight and penetrating, coupled with his high cheekbones to put one in mind of a raptor. The manner in which his jet-black hair and goatee was arranged gave him the impression of a stern, scholarly demon, and as he walked he tapped a long, black cane against the ground, tipped with a silver snarling wolfs head.
"Such a fine night." He says, staring up at the massive moon, like a coin of silver hanging motionless in the sky. "Fine as any I've seen in a long time."

[AnimeKid]

Seras Victoria:Police Girl

She yawns as she sits upward rising out of her crypt. She then immediately is alert when she doesn't sense the presence of Integra or any of Hellsing staff. "The bloody hell? Where is everyone?" She then here noise off in the distance. Grabbing the Harkonnen that she always kept in her coffin with her she head's off towards the noise noting the entire way that the place she was in looked like a castle and the noise was coming from the gates.

[doliest]

Dracula
As was I. Though, before that, I was Mathias Cronqvist. He seems to count off Alucard's titles as they are listed, We share most of those. Except 'Hammer of Christondom'. I did everything to wipe the church from my land.

[Cracklord]

Alucard
He chuckles. "As did I, in time. I declared war against the heavens themselves, and resolved to wipe him from my land." That didn't work out so well, though he decides not to say that.
"So you are me. Interesting, I can usually tell if people are lying to me, and you don't seem to be. You're certainly not delusional, whatever you are. It would seem I am destined to make the same choices no matter what world I am born into. Well, so be it. You can remain in my castle. I'll let you shine my shoes."

[doliest]

Dracula
You can have this ruin. I replaced it with Castlevania long ago. And while we certainly made many of the same choices, you are clearly not me. I wonder what must have gone differently to make me want to dress like you; truly, did you let Alucard dress you? He stops, taking in a breath purely for show, And you do not wear shoes.

[darkblade]

"Interesting it would seem there was someone truly born into that line of nobility." The King muses, it is quite obvious he is not a member of the Drakul bloodline what with being Japanese and all.

"In another world at least...Kivat, search the countryside for dimensional distortions. If this is a Shocker game I will have Decade's head." He says as the bat flies off in search of anything that might explain why three versions of the same man are in this old castle.

"I personally found the church to be useful. It's illusions of protection for the cattle left them ill prepared for so very long."

[Cracklord]

Alucard
"I left it myself, though I have to say it is nice to return." He says, ignoring The King. His towering arrogance has identified Dracula as the only one worth talking to, and so can't bring himself to listen to the King. Besides, he has no idea what he's talking about.
"I am called Alucard, and as for your attire I have to ask what exactly you are trying to compensate for with all that. Is it that you are desperate to impress, or is it just a lack of self confidence?" He replies.
"Look at it all. Don't you have any self-respect, or at least shame? You can at least feel shame, can't you? Whatever you have to prove can surely be dealt with in a better way."

[doliest]

Dracula
Are you? Alucard is the name my son adopted after siding with the humans. And, as I said, the look is quite distinguished and befitting my station.

He turns to look at the King, I merely claimed the title; I have no relation to 'Dracul' himself.

[darkblade]

The King either does not notice or does not care that Alucard is ignoring him. He simply listens to his counterparts' conversation keeping the remnants of an army in his peripheral vision.

[doliest]

Dracula
A thought strikes Dracula, as he looks at his two 'counterparts' So, I presume you both have the same goals as myself; are you too beset by a clan of hunters swarn to kill you?

[Cracklord]

Alucard
"A disappointment worthy of his father." Alucard sneered. "And I have known Popes with more sense of restraint then you. As for myself, who I was is of no consequence. I have returned to the old country, and I shall build myself a kingdom here once more." Growing bored of their game of insults, he stares at the cavalry who are milling about in a confused manner trying to make sense of all this and decide who to shoot, then suddenly he spreads his arms, his coat flaring around him like the wings of some vast dragon, his shadow in the moonlight seeming to cover the entire castle. Right on schedule an entire flock of bats fill the sky, seeming to have emerged from under the wings of his coat.
"The Master of this castle has returned. You are trespassing. Flee, and I will spare you. Or stand, and I will take your souls and do the same to those you care about!" There is a flash of red, and a sound like thunder, then all the horses rear and balk at the same time, eyes rolling back into their heads as a desperate need to flee takes over, consuming the entirety of them, ignoring their training, their common sense, everything under an unconquerable desire to get away from this beast who looks like a man.