#;dracula

For once, a question that actually made him uncomfortable. The thought feels like a bitter taste at first, welcoming someone new into his heart. Here he thought he'd swear off love ever again, but, maybe it wouldn't be completely disastrous?

"Perhaps, under the right conditions." What was that? He doesn't know, but maybe her not being married to another man would probably make a good first step.

"You're lucky, my lady, the moon in the sky is when I want to stay the longest." Taking the lady's hand, the infamous vampire himself leaves a kiss to the back of her hand. "The longer the better."

"It's hardly the worst thing you could do." Alucard was brutally honest to a fault, taking her away from the drained human to then wipe the blood from her mouth with his red coat.

"If you didn't give in and drink the blood of humans, you wouldn't be a vampire in the first place. If I could, I'd give in and drink right now." Of course, that's impossible given the orders he was forced to obey against his own will.

"Just take a deep breath, focus on your surroundings and your feet on the ground." It's an old method, but he vividly remembers when soldiers practiced such a thing at the first sight of gore and bloodshed on the battlefield.

It's been some time since he's traveled around, but what's a lonely old vampire to do? He's an empty man at heart, and he isn't exactly kind to others to sit and act like a carrier of justice, but he sees a woman getting tied together and man-handled by what he assumes is guards.

He really doesn't believe in stepping up for what's right anymore, goodness knows his morals died as a child, but seeing the sight of someone handled like that...Well, it brings about sour memories from Alucard's own experience when he was a human child, manhandled in a similar way by guards.

Using his vampire powers, he steps in to shield her with his red coat, only a flick of his fingers to undo the ropes.

"If you don't want to find yourself burnt or behind bars, come with me."

It is by grace of foresight does he see the coming of another, practically smell the undeath of his own blood adorning the veins of another who skulks the stairs of his home. Beastly red eyes, more animalistic than the true presence gave way to, weave away from his own shadow to besiege the specter of himself instead. Clawed fingers furl into a mighty fist, fangs bare behind pursed lips for but a moment in an unholy grimace.