#I miss Renfield dearly

[diaryofawallfly]

Eat any bugs lately, gay boy?

He sighs softly.

"Yes. Typically, I do. Do you have any other questions about my daily business? Perhaps in detail?"

[fictionkinfessions]

I hate that my daughter wasn’t canon at all. In other versions of my source, like the Renfield 2023 movie, I do have a daughter, but she’s not mine. I don’t even remember her name. I just miss her dearly. I’ll just never see her again and it hurts. :(

-R.M. Renfield (from Dracula 1931)

s

[tenebris-lux]

Missed yesterday’s entry (Aug 19), so I’m catching up today.

August 19

“It looks like religious mania, and he will soon think that he himself is God. These infinitesimal distinctions between man and man are too paltry for an Omnipotent Being. How these madmen give themselves away!”

… yeah, I kinda think they do indeed, JACK. (It is pretty repulsive how he just makes those assumptions about Renfield, when Renfield hasn’t actually done that. The arrogance is gross.)

Also, because I’m more in the habit of seeing parallels now, Renfield breaking out at night to go to “the Master” and Seward following reminded me of Lucy’s trek and Mina following. The details are completely different, but there is still some similarity. Also Lucy left sometime before 1AM and Renfield at about at 2AM.

What I’m wondering is how did Dracula get Renfield’s attention? Did he call him out, or did Renfield just show up and Dracula’s like, “… hi?” Don’t know how often he gets people running at him because they actually want to interact with his vampirism. I imagine Renfield is a first in all of Dracula’s unlife.

On Re: Dracula

~ I appreciated Seward’s cocky arrogance. It was unpleasant in the appropriate way. I was repulsed, and I love him for it.

~ I liked the effect done on the voices of Seward & Renfield when they were talking to each other in the asylum; gave a good impression that it was in an emotionally cold and uncaring chamber.

~ Hate to criticize such well-done audio drama, and it might be completely unfounded as I am no chemistry major, but … the chemical formula for chloral was different in the audio than in the book. The book says “C2HCl3 O. H2O!” In Re: Dracula, he said, “C2HCl2 O. H2O!” I try not to be a stickler for word-for-word down to every single detail, but in chemical formula, one letter or number can make all the difference. I think that one’s kind of important.

~ Once again, I love all the music choices. I don’t believe one would be forthcoming (because audio books/dramas don’t have them afaik), but I’d dearly love a soundtrack when the whole thing is done. I love soundtracks.

~ Felix Trench is an excellent voice actor. Renfield’s scorn for Seward and his admiring devotion to “the Master” came through strong.

August 20

… what is with today?? Apparently a whole week passed since THIS MORNING, and then 3 nights all today. Also (date spoiler here), we get another entry on August 23. So I wonder if it’s just a mess-up on Stoker’s part, and the “three nights has the same thing happened” was supposed to be on August 23.

Jack, are you okay?? Are you having some real intense dreams or something?

Again, I like Felix Trench’s deliveries. His “I can wait … I can wait …” really sells Renfield.

[luanna801]

prompt renfield getting to be happy for ONCE IN HIS DAMN LIFE

please and thank youuu

"You have a visitor."

His eyes snapped up to the slim figure in the doorway, calm and poised in her walking suit just as she had been the first time he had seen her. Mrs. Harker. No longer pale and wan, but with the warm living blood back in her cheeks and glowing in her brow. It made him smile to see it...

... so much so that he almost missed the squirming bundle in her arms.

He had never been much one for babies - they were messy, inconvenient things - but he felt an unexpected lump in his throat at the soft, rosy little face staring back at him. Life. He had been obsessed with it for so long (consuming, consumed by it...), it felt as though he had forgotten something so simple.

Lives, the thing he had once called Master had promised him, endless lives through countless ages. But this was the true chain of life in this world; this was how eternity was truly given, with one life blooming forth into the next.

"This is Quincey," Mina said with a smile, hefting the boy in her arms.

"After the gallant Texan." He tried to smile in return; it felt shaky and unfamiliar on his face. "He seemed like a good man. I was sorry to hear..."

"... Yes." Her sweet face was sorrowful, but it brightened as she moved closer to him. "He'll be dearly missed. But it gives me comfort to know that we can remember him in this way. Through giving our son his name..."

She smiled again then, as though letting him in on a secret.

"Quincey's name... and all of the dear friends we owe so much to... including yours."

It took a moment for him to take her meaning; and when he did, he found that he couldn't speak. He put a hand to his mouth, biting down against the tide of his emotions, and reached out with his other hand to touch the child's cheek.

"I wouldn't be here if not for you," Mrs. Harker said softly. "He wouldn't be here if not for you. And I’ll make sure he always remembers."

[thebeautyofdisorder]

The Undone & The Divine (BBC Dracula) - Chapter 7

A/N: Okay, here is the next chapter finally. Nothing quite so... explicit as last chapter, but fun none the less. A lot of conversation/exposition, and Zoe may or may not be inadvertently sciencing her way into a crossover opportunity that I won’t take, but she does have a mind of her own, that one. Drac does a bit of grumpy pining.

Pairing: Dracula & Agatha/Zoe, Dracula/OFC

Rating: M, for blood, language, mercenaries with guns, and direct references to sexual acts performed in the last chapter.

Chapters 1-2 Here - Chapter 3 Here - Chapter 4 Here - Chapter 5 Here - Chapter 6 Here

Can be found on AO3 - Right HERE - or enjoy below the cut

“I don’t think she’s coming, sire.”

Dracula looked up from where he’d been absently staring off into the abyss - granted the abyss did look an awful lot like his front door, to meet the infuriatingly attentive gaze of Frank Renfield, as he stirred his tea, and pretended to peruse the morning paper.

“I’m sorry?” It was less of a question of clarification, and more a second chance to remedy his daring presumption, though apparently this did not occur to the lawyer at all.

“Dr. Helsing. I think she’s far more stubborn than even you give her credit for.”

“What exactly gives you the idea that I’m waiting for anyone, much less her?” he challenged, quirking a brow at his rather unwelcome company. He had asked for daily updates on his current investments, true, but it wasn’t necessarily his intention to have the man pop up at random hours of the morning to do so. Just because he could be a morning person now certainly didn’t mean that he actually wanted to be.

“I’ve never seen you so disinterested in sustenance when it’s right in front of you, unless she’s involved, of course.”

The vampire was very tempted to rip the knowing smile right from his skull, but barely managed to restrain himself out of sheer disinterest at working to find another malleable Londoner to do his business. Picking up his sadly cooled breakfast, he drained the glass simply out of spite and sat it back down with a force just shy from shattering it.

“I don’t pay you to psychoanalyze me, Frank,” he warned, barely concealed with a charming edge of fondness that came off even more menacing than any blatant threat, as he stood to his full height and paced over to the window.

The lawyer paled. “Yes, master.”

“What’s my schedule for this evening?”

“I believe you indicated you were finishing off your first experiment tonight, Count. The painter.”

“Ah. Yes,” he confirmed, even as he proceeded to juggle his mobile phone between his hands distractedly, mind somewhere else entirely. “I might...hold off on that for another week. Can’t be too hasty...I really don’t want anymore failures on my hands. And perhaps we should really begin to encourage the writing of wills in this process… When is that ‘natural burial’ movement going to be ‘en vogue’ over here, you think?”

“In a city this size? Hard to say…” Frank winced, seeming to fall silent far longer than necessary to think about it, and Dracula was really beginning to regret meddling with his mental faculties so much. It did, however, shut him up long enough for him to send a text to the woman he'd just been accused of thinking about.

HAVE YOU RECONSIDERED JOINING ME FOR DINNER?

After three minutes of silence, Dracula scowled and refocused on Renfield's babbling, which had taken back up after his initial, blissful silence. Something about 'death positivity' which brought a brief smirk to his lips. Just when he thought humanity had lost its sense of reality entirely.

You text like my grandfather.

The Count grinned in partial triumph. Partial because while she'd certainly replied, she didn't seem nearly as outraged as he'd dearly hoped. Would have to remedy that. Very soon.

BUSY?

Very busy. How did you get my number?

HUNGRY? 🍷

No.

LIAR.

Show off.

Renfield had the audacity to clear his throat.

-----

Peaking into the disheveled mass of books, vials, and files that had become the current state of Zoe Van Helsing’s office, Bloxham at first mistook it for empty. The lights were dimmed, and the chair behind the desk was not only lacking in an occupant, but instead was serving as an unsteady shelf for what looked to be a hundred-year-old phonograph.

“The sign specifically said ‘do not disturb’, didn’t it?”

Dr. Bloxham spun around suddenly, placing a hand to her chest in shock as her eyes adjusted to the far corner of the room, where a small pseudo lab seemed to be occupying the back corner. Zoe was standing still as a statue, frozen in the midst of studying a vial of a thick red substance by shining a black light through it. She stayed frozen.

“Jesus, Zoe you scared the shit out of me,” she remarked at first. “And actually it says ‘danger: enter at your own risk’ but it was so bloody dark in here I thought you’d gone home.”

“All the same, get out. I’m busy,” Zoe murmured tightly, and her colleague frowned, making no motion to leave as of yet.

“Zoe...you haven’t been coming to meetings, nor have you really spoken to anyone in a week. Is everything...alright?”

“Fine. Just dandy. Now get out, please.”

“Sarcasm, much? I’m just...worried.”

Zoe still hadn’t moved. In fact, she was forcing herself to stay rooted to the spot, or she wasn’t entirely certain what she would do. A sudden shuffling outside the door, however, pulled her away from her steely focus and her eyes shot up with inhuman speed to the door where a crack of light cut through the carpet.

“Who else is with you?” Zoe asked, eyes shooting towards the other woman directly for the first time since she’d entered.

Bloxham swallowed audibly, eyes darting quickly away to avoid eye contact.

“Look, our sponsor has been sending inquiries about this...situation, and we need to provide him with answers. I thought if I could get a glimpse of your research, we could figure out what it is you’re doing and give a proper update…"

“Dr. Bloxham… Kate I really need you to go. My research is mine and until it’s complete, I have no interest in sharing it,” Zoe stated firmly.

Dr. Bloxham advanced forward a step. “But Zoe-”

Zoe’s grip on the vial in her hand tightened and the glass gave a warning crackle that froze the shorter woman in her place.

“Leave!” The words came out in nothing short of a growl, and had the exact opposite effect on the situation that she’d intended or hoped.

The door swung the rest of the way open with a deafening bang and two large men with guns came in behind Dr. Bloxham, only halting their approach at the raise of her hand.

“That won’t be necessary boys, thank you,” she stated with carefully practiced calm, even though Zoe could hear the thrumming of her pulse hitting an anxious high speed. She forced her fingers, which had flexed into something resembling claws, to relax, though her spine stiffened further. Would guns hurt her? Maybe, maybe not but it would certainly lead to a load of inconvenience even if they didn’t - more so if they didn’t, she decided.

Ignoring the intrusion completely, even as they seemed to stand down, Zoe addressed Bloxham directly. “Is this really where you’re going with this? I’m not an animal, Dr. Bloxham. In fact, I’m doing everything in my power to avoid that outcome, and would like to continue to do it in peace.”

She slammed the glass beaker down and against better judgement beckoned her reluctant colleague forward.

“Come. Look.”

She hesitated, but gesturing a casual hand back at the men at her back, she approached Zoe, who distinctly moved out of the way entirely.

“What am I looking at?”

“Just a basic five-senses test, Doctor, what do they tell you?”

Kate leant down at eye level with the beaker, perusing it, picking it up and shifting the substance around, taking a whiff of it.

“It smells, looks, and behaves like blood. De-fibrillated, if I had to guess - from who or what I don’t know.”

Zoe looked minutely pleased, though was still almost robot stiff as she handed a folder over to her.

“It’s a protein and nutrient compound. I'm running a few...tests to see if I can find a supplemental vampiric food source. The information is all there."

Bloxham took the folder with a glance of astonished intrigue, and greedily began to look over the contents, forgetting about her intimidation tactics. Momentarily, at least.

"Could this actually work?"

"To keep them alive...yes, potentially. Or to ward off the cravings and reduce the need to result in homicide, at the least. As for the grander implications… I don't know."

"You need a subject."

"I am the subject."

The other doctor nodded briefly, biting her lip and pacing back towards the desk, folder still in her hands.

"You think he's infecting others?'

"I know he is," Zoe scoffed, the distance between them making it somewhat easier to function. To breathe, however much she still could.

"And have you run any trials yet?"

"With a couple more tweaks, I was planning to start this evening."

Bloxham gestured with her eyes toward the phonograph, and the exceedingly out of place stack of various religious texts and mythos.

"These?"

"Doing some updates on my great grandfather's research.  None of which is replaceable, ergo my want for privacy."

She nodded, understanding but not commenting. It was one of the things Zoe always appreciated about her - she never spoke without thinking first.

"I would like you to run this as an official experiment in the lab, if only for the sake of an external eye. First hand trials are never 100% accurate - we both know that. You can't afford to miss something. If you feel...unsafe with the others, we can isolate you where you can still be observed - at your discretion, of course. And all of your private research will remain that way, you have my word."

Zoe pursed her lips into a thin line, weighing her options. Who was she kidding, she didn't have options. She had partial control or none at all; a glass box or an autopsy table. This was a negotiation of surrender.

"All right. Fine."

-----

“...The second son of Vlad II became ruler of Wallachia in 1436, leading to one of the bloodiest but most successful reigns in Romanian history simply by fearful reputation alone. Drakula as he was often called, in his day simply in honor of his father meaning 'Son of the Dragon'. Now it just adds to his legend, since 'Dracul' in modern Romanian more accurately translates to Devil. A very literal interpretation of dying a hero or living long enough to see yourself becoming The Villain ™ …"

Kat skimmed the notes for at least the fifth time, mindlessly chewing her nail polish off her thumb in a manic, nervous habit she thought she'd squashed at 16. She hadn't made it to class that morning - hell, she didn't even hear her alarm. It had blared for three hours before her mind swam its way back to consciousness.

He'd been gone when she awoke finally, the mid-morning sun streaming harshly through her curtains. He left her a note, written in comically perfect cursive on the back of a concert flyer, with his mobile number scrawled across the top, laid on her bedside table atop the book he'd brought her.

I had to run for a meeting early. Enjoy the book. - D

P.S. I did try to fix your shelf, though I do believe I owe you a new lamp.

Her cheeks were still burning hotter than her coffee as she later sat down to email her professor, claiming sudden illness and begging a forward of his notes. Luckily he was a pretty laid back type or it would have been twice as humiliating to think she was effectively calling in due to being fucked into oblivion.

She'd barely recalled being conscious after, though she knew she had been. Though the memory of laughing off the wall-pounding complaints of her next door neighbor was swimming interchangeably with the images of her very bizarre dream. At least she'd assumed it was a dream - men sprouting fangs was clearly her orgasm-delirious brain reacting to last week's ill-timed Buffy marathon and too many re-readings of Legends of the Carpathians. It had to be.

That was her logic anyway, up until she looked at herself in the floor length mirror after jumping in the shower, and found herself marveling there far too long. She wasn't one to complain about a hickey or two, but her fingers trailed the jagged white indentation of teeth at the juncture of her neck and shoulder -  a pale slash interrupting the bruised flesh - and shivered. Red, stripe-like lines trailed the length of her legs and hips, unfaded and tangible. There was even still a red gash-like mark on her shoulder where the strap of her camisole had dug into her flesh as he ripped it like it was made of crepe paper.

Her mind returned to those notes, lingering on the name 'Drakula' far too long without coming up with a real reason to be so concerned. It could be an ancestor or a weird inside joke of an alias she had missed. For all she knew of Romanian customs it could be a fairly common name there now.

"Impaled by Vlad the Impaler...ridiculous," she joked, half audibly to herself

"I quite like the sound of that."

A bonafide squeak of surprise rose out of her throat, though she didn't have the time to be humiliated as the tall shadow of the man himself showed up in the mirror behind her, taking up the whole of her bedroom door frame.

"Apologies, it was unlocked. I did knock to be fair, but I can see why you didn't hear." His eyes were locked on her body still dripping from the shower, a towel barely clasped around to cover the important bits.

Kat quickly caught her breath, forcing a chuckle. "No, it's...alright. I was just trying to...go over my notes," she excused, gesturing to where her laptop sat open on the desk in the corner.

"Didn't make it out of bed this morning," She shot him a look of playful accusation, before turning back to the mirror, already dismissing her earlier fears now that she was seeing him in broad daylight for the first time. He was definitely not a big pile of dust, or if he was he was the most attractive one she'd ever seen.

He made a show of wincing. "I suppose that was my fault." He paced forward, meeting her eyes through their reflections as he approached, tracing a finger down the side of her neck and over her shoulder, skimming the harsh redness. "This definitely was."

Her breath stuttered audibly and she felt her lower muscles clench almost painfully just at the barest reminder of his presence.

"Yeah...you… go a bit feral, don't you?" She breathed, fingers tracing her legs as well.

"You do make a lovely canvas." He smirked lightly, but other than meeting her reflection's gaze, he looked away from the mirror entirely, and brushed his lips over the bite mark as he turned away.

Well, he certainly has a reflection, she couldn't help but muse as she remembered to breathe, watching his backside as he paced over to the laptop casually.

"I see you're onto the 15th century."

"Yes… family of yours?" She prodded with mild curiosity, as she adjusted the towel.

He was silent for a moment , as though debating just how directly to answer.

"Something like that," he seemed to settle with, and despite lifting a curious brow she didn't pry. Something in his eyes brooked no reproach, as funny as that felt to think.

"I unfortunately need to be going again," he added before she could think of any further inquiry, or pounce on him again as she was half wont to do.

"I mainly just came to replace your lamp," he said, stepping back to the hall and pulling up a bag he had left on the floor, offering it to her.

She couldn't help but laugh as she took it from him.. "Why thank you."

Not that she could ever look at the bloody thing again without remembering knocking it onto the floor to smash into pieces as he pounded her into next week. Though judging from the demonic glint in his eyes as he pressed an otherwise chaste kiss to her knuckles in farewell, that was exactly what he'd intended.

----

She felt him before she saw him. It was both refreshing and annoying that he couldn't sneak up on her anymore, even if it just meant a few more minutes of blissful ignorance before he intruded on her evening.

"You shouldn't be here."

He was even more annoyed by it if the disgruntled sigh was anything to go by. He remained at a distance in the shadows nonetheless.

"Neither should you, Zoe," Dracula warned in a tone that was so low, it was almost genuine in its concern. "I know what you're doing, at least in part, and while the effort is admirable it's not going to work."

"And how would you know?" She snapped, frustration lacing her words as she tried desperately to keep her eyes on the screen in front of her. "Have you ever even tried not killing anyone? Of course not, because you enjoy it too much. You're a monster and that's how you like it." She slammed a few keys with audible force.

Dracula scoffed, approaching from the shadows with an affronted air. "What do you call what I've been doing?! I would think you'd appreciate the gesture."

Her eyes narrowed, incredulous confusion colored by exasperation. "I'm sorry, are saying you attempting not to murder half of London is supposed to impress me?"

"Yes, of course."

At that she couldn't help but laugh, for probably the first time in months, though it contained plenty of Agatha's sardonic mirth as well.

"You really are a 500 year old infant, aren't you?"

His lips formed into an exaggerated pout, barely masking his amusement. "Is that what she's said about me?"

"Among many other things, yes," Zoe confirmed dryly, standing to her feet. They both knew he was speaking of Agatha, though whether he knew about the letters she wasn't sure, nor did she want to bring it up. Not yet.

"And what about the girl who's throat you almost ripped out last night? Or did you? Was that out of spite or just the chance to show off?"

"She's perfectly fine.  Actually I would say I improved her night immensely ." The lascivious tone was blatant and twice as irritating as he leaned over the desk towards her.

Her nostrils flared as the breath expelled through his words lingered between them, smelling of blood.

"You're revolting." She despised that the words came out in a gasp.

"And deep down, you enjoy it."

"Like I enjoyed cancer."

He smirked, though there was a bitter edge of impatience to it.

"They're going to try to kill you, you know. And you don't have the strength to fight it."

"Then I suppose I'll die," she dismissed, just to irritate him. In truth it was something she was concerned with as well, but the last thing she wanted was for him to know it

He scowled briefly though it manifested as more of a snarl, pulling a hip flask from his pocket and placing it on the desk between them. An offering, given in silence.

Zoe barely looked at it. "And which one of your conquests did that come from?"

"Leading hematologist in London - willingly donated in a sterile, medical setting - very much alive and happily at home with his idiotic family as we speak. If and when you could use the boost - or the expertise."

"Not necessary," she ground out, doing her best to ignore its presence entirely. Not to mention the implication he was even offering assistance in his selfish, convoluted way, despite his opposition to her plan.

Dracula could have opened it and left her with no choice, but he didn't. Instead, he straightened to his full height and met her eyes again with a sigh as he made his way back towards the door. Where he’d actually gotten in without notice, she had no idea, and she’d rather not think about it..

"Good luck, Dr. Helsing," he bade her farewell, unable to resist adding sardonically: "You'll need it."

----

Sooo... Zoe’s kind of trying to invent True Blood, and I’m a whore for Drac being a suck up (no pun intended). This is going to get...interesting.

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[zoophagist]

how d’you feel about don orlando (from a certain production of dracula the musical)’s renfield? love yer tags by the way n general content

i lived in blessèd ignorance of this man and this production but now… now i know, i guess. and knowledge is a curse.

i don’t know where this video came from or how you found it but i’m DEARLY HOPING this is being sent to me for meme purposes and not an actual critique (god forbid: from this man or someone who knows him). i don’t want to be shady but,, the two vids i saw of him were,, questionable at best and my feelings are: :/

definitely picking up on some hammy impulses toward “effeminate man = funny” and “queer coded = creepy/bad” in the same vein as le fou in beauty and the beast and i’m NOT into it. (we can talk another time for hours about how that trope is or is not present in the original text, but i sure as HELL don’t want to see it in the year of our lord and master 2019 and not being played for subversion.) that’s SUPER lazy shorthand for ‘crazy’ more often than not, as well! so a real double whammy of WHY! it’s not a hot take, it’s not spicy, it ain’t even fresh. that’s STALE and there a million valid ways to play renfield that aren’t that. you can even acknowledge and play into queer coding without making renfield the butt of the joke there, like…. just no.

and not to be rude but just,,, this whole production gives off bad, cursed energy. the actors are all missing the mark. has renfield heard a single director’s warning about master gestures?? the set is ? sure, fine, ok. not renfield  note but seward really did just roll in hitting that hard american A in “master” didn’t he?? OUCH. at least seward’s voice made me appreciate that renfield could carry a tune for the most part. and the music,,,  why does renfield MASSIVELY overshoot the tempo on the first lines of “the master’s song” and why the HELL isn’t there music in “the master’s song reprise”? 

i have more to say but my flatmate reading this over my shoulder is telling me “that’s enough” 

lmao thanks for sending this anyway what a Time :’) and thank you for enjoying my content! we live for that renfield media and i’m happy to be contributing to it for your viewing pleasure.