#alucard's seals & restrictions

[ofwraithsandwords]

Hello! I have hellsing question that has been stewing in my head for bit. I don't think there is canon answer to it but I like your posts on hellsing on this blog and your old one! My question is do alucard's restrictions do anything to him if he defies orders? Also what would make him or cause him to want to defy an order. In series hes incompentent at his job a lot. So I could take it as order needs to very specific to get him do anything but is there a consequence if he defies an order?

Thank you for sending in this ask, anon. I'm glad that you like my rambles!

So this is a very good question and highly subjective, I think. It's as you said—there is no canon answer to this question. And since there are multiple parts to this question, I'll break it down so I can answer all of these points succinctly.

1. Does Alucard's restrictions do anything to him if he defies an order?

It's difficult to say. From what we see in the anime and manga, almost all of Alucard's orders are a simple "Search & Destroy" from Integra. That's not a whole lot to go on and leaves quite a bit of wiggle room as far as Alucard is concerned. When faced with a Brazilian SWAT team breaking down his door during their mission in Rio de Janeiro, Alucard responded by effectively slaughtering the entire force despite them being innocent humans caught between a rock and hard place. We can assume that Alucard was sent there to solely take care of the vampire that presided there and was not given any other express orders on how to conduct himself in the event of an emergency.

There was, however, the situation with him being locked up for two decades and kept in a mummified state. We can assume that the only reason why Arthur was even able to do such a thing was due to the Cromwell Invocation/Seals. Did this situation come about because Alucard's abilities were too much for the issues of Arthur's time or was it also because Alucard was finding ways to defy his orders? I don't really know. But I think it's safe to to say that while Alucard may carry out his orders, it's also very possible that he regularly did whatever he wanted within those parameters.

So to answer the question: in my opinion, yes, I do think that the restrictions would "do something" to him if he were to blatantly defy orders. But I don't think it's what most people think. I don't think they "shock" him or cause him any physical pain. In fact, I think the seals on his gloves more likely serve as constant reminders of his enslavement and the tests that Van Hellsing & Co. did to him. I think the truth of the Cromwell Invocation is that they have more of a Pavlov effect on Alucard—that he has been conditioned and brainwashed into believing that these restrictions have an iron grip on him. The abused dog that wears a shock collar will cower in fear at the sight of the collar's remote, even if the shock collar doesn't work.

2. What would make or cause Alucard to defy an order?

While Alucard typically does whatever it is that he is ordered to do, the truth is that he basically does whatever the hell he wants so long as it doesn't go against the express order he was given. He turned Seras into a vampire. He engaged in combat with Father Anderson instead of fleeing with his fledgling. He didn't lift a single finger during Luke and Jan Valentine's raid on the Hellsing manor. The list goes on. The guy is incompetent, to be sure.

As far as what would make Alucard defy an order? Honestly? I don't think he's really capable of doing that—not on his own, anyway. His brain is just a plate of rotten scrambled eggs. The one instance where he defied direct orders was when he consumed Schrödinger and he had no choice in the matter. He was over-encumbered with souls and couldn't separate himself from the three million people he devoured.

So my answer is: I don't actually think Alucard would defy an order of his own "free"* will, but under enough duress, he may have to.

* = he isn't really free, technically speaking. He's kind of more like a free-range bull. The animal thinks it's free, but they're still fenced in.

[lesinquietes]

Summary: It’s been a few months since you and your friends moved into the old house. Inspections of the entire place — including the cursed basement — were completed. The results showed nothing out of the ordinary. You begin to feel safer in your new environment, growing carefully more comfortable in a space that never belonged to you. Alucard has been watching, though; dormant in the shadows and eager to play with his new toy.

Pairing: Yandere!Alucard x AFAB!Reader

Warning: 18+ (minors don’t interact), horror, sexual themes, violence.

Previous l Next

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

Lots of psychological horror mixed with a bit of subtle lust. The buildup is happening fast. If I was reader I’d be subletting the shit out of my bedroom by now ngl

The Basement’s Monster I

You gaze out of your new bedroom window and take in the view. It’s dusk. Shadows are being cast by the trees and shrubbery surrounding your property. Within seconds of the sun’s descent, the house is swallowed by darkness; it sits in utter solitude, the closest road at least 500 metres away. This is a cryptic reminder that you’re actually here — in the very home you feared.

It’s been a month since you moved in. So far, nothing spooky has happened. The realtor didn’t find a single fault with the basement. When she asked the old man if he noticed anything out of sorts, he claimed he never went down there — bad knees. If his excuse didn’t do the trick, the realtor’s detective work served to convince you. After talking it over with your friends, you agreed to move in under one condition: the basement door must be locked tighter than a penitentiary. Graciously, no one disagreed.

“If it means you get to have peace of mind?” Cree shrugged. “No problem.”

“To be honest, I don’t even think we have anything to put down there.” Nelly asserted. “We have enough room on the first and second floors for all our stuff.”

It warms your heart to reminisce on their kindness. They care about you. Who else would sacrifice a whole portion of their rental to quell the fears of their roommate? Only the best of friends.

You bolted the basement shut with three different locks. Of course, they can only be disengaged from the outside. Initially, you didn’t know if it would be enough. He transcends the laws of physics, after all. But after zero incidents, you’ve started to believe restricting its access to the rest of the home sealed the deal. You certainly feel more at peace. And now that the horror is dissipating, you can finally see why your comrades liked this place so much.

It’s old and well-loved. It has an aged charm that you don’t see too often anymore; one that’s homely and tranquil. The road in front of you barely sees any traffic, and whatever vehicles do roll through are muffled by the tall evergreen trees decorating the grounds. Your closest neighbour is also roughly 500 metres away. It’s modern day seclusion.

You don’t bother to draw the curtains when you pull off your shirt and carefully remove your bra. Your pants come next, along with your underwear. You reach down to peel socks from fatigued soles, tossing them into your laundry basket with the rest.

Your chamber is cozy. Your bed is situated at the centre of the room, pressed against the furthest wall. Partially above it is a large window, shrouded by curtains fluttering gently in the autumn breeze. There’s a nightstand on one side, and a tall floor lamp on the other. The floor lamp has three arching claws that stretch over your mattress, golden bulbs illuminating your book when it comes time to read in the evening.

Your dresser sits in proximity to the door, wide enough to provide a surface for small trinkets and valuables. You keep a photograph of you and your friends atop it — a reminder that there is good in this world. Behind the grand item hangs a mirror.

A desk is shoved into the corner adjacent to your dresser, messy with notes and assorted books. Your laptop lives there, too. A chair is parked in the desk’s gap, wooden and uncomfortable. This is where you spend your work day.

There’s a door in the corner next to your dresser. It’s a closet. You twist the handle and hear the hinges squeal. After surveying, you yank your bath robe off a hanger and adorn it. The silky fabric is white, with black details of painted flowers and tall grass. Once tied, it dips halfway down your thighs, barely covering your backside. Not that it matters; no one is home but Ericson.

You exit your room and move down the upstairs corridor. The floorboards creak beneath your heavy footfalls. You have the first room at the top of the stairs. The bathroom is at the end of the hall, on the same side as you. Across from you are Cree and Nelly’s rooms. They’re at work. Downstairs, you can hear Ericson talking on the phone. She chose the only chamber on the main floor.

When you reach the bathroom, you open the door. It’s chilly, like outside. You frown when you identify the culprit. The window at the far end of the room, behind the bathtub, is wide open. The curtains flap with the nippy gusts that are flowing in from the night. Gooseflesh decorating your skin, you march to the problem and solve it. The window is shut with an abrupt clap.

From there, you bend down to run the shower. The washroom is Victorian-inspired, with a beautiful standing bathtub and a pedestal sink. A shower head was installed later, curving menacingly above the basin. The stream that gushes out is quite weak in comparison to what you’re used to. The realtor said it has something to do with the boiler being old and defective. The owner plans to replace it before winter.

You wander to the sink and begin to wash your face. Glancing into the mirror, you exfoliate your skin, cleansing it of the day’s stress. It feels good to do some form of self-care. With age, you recognize the need to treat your body with the respect it deserves.

Once you complete your task, you make your way back to the shower. Cautiously, you expose your wrist to the jet. You sigh, content. It’s ready for you.

Your robe drops to the floor. You step into the tub and close the curtain. As soon as the water hits your body, a soft moan leaves your lips. Your nervous system relaxes, and your mind straightens out. Eyes closed, you make the foolish mistake of thinking that you’re safe.

Alucard watches you from his hiding spot in the basement. He’s grinning from ear to ear, a droplet of saliva dripping down his pale chin as he remains transfixed by the image of your bare figure. How long has it been since he’s had a frigid body beneath his, serving and soothing him? More than a decade. Two decades, perhaps. But that doesn’t matter. He wants you, regardless of the pent-up lust that’s coiling around his loins.

From lying dormant, he’s harnessed enough strength to manifest himself in physical form. It’ll have to be brief, but he can’t have you trusting that what you saw on the day of the showing won’t come back to haunt you. He’s been picking up on some of your thoughts. If there’s one thing he despises, it’s false courage. His visit will teach you that it’s asinine to lower your guard in this hellhole.

Meanwhile, upstairs, you lather your hair with shampoo and scrub yourself down. The heat of the water is heavenly. You don’t recall the last time you were this relaxed.

Your anxiety has been on the rise recently, since you came across that beast during the showing. You kept anticipating to be hypnotized once more, but he hasn’t disturbed you. Didn’t he want this — infinite, unbridled access to you? At least, that was the sense you got from the encounter. Where is he now? Not that you’re complaining.

Alucard inhales greedily. The smell of your soaps is wafting down the hallway. His licks his lips. Despite the scent being artificial, he thinks it suits you. He deliberates how your blood will taste. If his intuition is right, there’ll be a sweetness to the coppery undertone. The last occasion in which he had that flavour on his palate was a century ago.

It’s difficult to restrain himself from laying claim to your neck. Despairingly, he wishes to plant a chaste kiss on its length before grazing his fangs across the target spot. He would feel your pulse and be unable to resist plunging into your jugular. The blood that would spurt from the wound would gush into his ravenous mouth and satiate him. No doubt, he’d be addicted to your unique taste.

Soon, he reminds himself sternly.

You hum a song you’ve heard a lot of lately. It’s been stuck in your head. Ericson’s a fan of indie rock and the like.

He doesn't look a thing like Jesus,

But he talks like a gentleman,

Like you imagined,

When you were young.

You don’t know how ironic those lyrics are to the situation that’s unfolding beneath your conscious awareness. You will in due time. For now, only Alucard relishes in the mockery.

A squeak outside the bathroom door causes you to perk up. The words catch in your throat. Your heart pangs, disrupting the ambient serenity you’ve cultivated. Wordless, you stare at the shower curtain. It’s not transparent. You don’t know what’s stopping you from peeking out of it to investigate. Fear, perhaps, or the hope that it’s just Ericson.

Alucard clasps the doorknob, nesting the bulb in his palm. He snickers cruelly. You stopped singing. Shame. He was fond of the melody.

You hear the latch of the bathroom door click. It startles you further. You can feel your pulse thudding in your temples. Heart galloping in your chest, the frantic organ begs you to rip open the curtain and face the intruder. Your limbs are frozen. It’s oddly reminiscent of that day near the basement; you don’t think that’s a coincidence.

It can’t be Ericson. There’s a bathroom equipped with a sink and toilet downstairs. She wouldn’t use this one.

Something lets itself in. It closes the door behind it, barring you in this minuscule prison with its wrath. You know, in the recesses of your soul, that a monster beyond your scope of comprehension is lurking behind the curtain. Paranoia has become your friend lately; nevertheless, you understand when a genuine threat has presented itself. And it rattles you to the core.

Alucard’s dead hand, with jagged nails protruding from lithe fingertips, ghosts along the fabric that’s separating the two of you. He growls lowly. If he snapped the curtains from their hooks and dragged the whole ensemble to its demise, you would be vulnerable for him. You would cover your chest and womanhood as best you could, leaving your dainty neck exposed. It would be the perfect opportunity to—

He bites his tongue. No. Repetitively, he insists that this isn’t the night to turn you; there’s more to be done before then.

Your jaw unhooks as you register what you saw. The curtain seemed to quiver. Did that really happen?

All you can register, outside of your rampant adrenaline, is the noise of water striking the tin basin. It’s as though everything else is frozen in time. Images of that cryptid return to you. Each blink ignites a memory of him treading closer, whispering with his barbed tongue. You can almost hear him in the present.

Come, pretty human.

Petrified, you don’t breathe for what feels like an eternity. At last, your first exhale is measured — a futile attempt to regulate yourself. With courage akin to the Chernobyl divers, dipping into a radioactive pool, you raise your hand. Shaking with dread, you guide it to the precise location you saw the movement.

Alucard fights the urge to snatch your delicate wrist. He can see your silhouette. You’re about to rip open the veil, in a silly attempt to thwart him. He yearns to tug you into his firm chest, securing your figure while he lulls you into a submissive state.

In a flurry of bravery, you grasp the curtain and rip it open. A cry leaves your mouth as you do. The fabric flies, and what’s revealed is an empty space, housing solely your derangement. No being stands there. No creature is seeking to haunt you.

You stand there, motionless. Every inch of the room is scanned until you’re wholly satisfied that not a damn thing is out of place. The towels and cloths are stationary. Your supplies remain on the shelves next to the sink. Hell, even the toilet paper looks untouched.

“Okay.” You breathe under your breath. “What the hell was that?”

Maybe what you heard was the house settling. Recently, you spoke with Nelly about the creaks and groans that resound in this place, and how they’ll take some getting used to. This evening, you let your apprehension over-encumber you.

You desperately want to shake off the sounds. Something inside you begs to forget about this incident, to turn around and finish your shower without acknowledging the truth. Against your better judgement, you do. You close the curtain and inhale deeply. Your objective is singular: conclude your shower so you can get the fuck out of here.

You don’t sing another word. Speedily, you continue to rinse off, straining your hair and body of any soapy residue. You glare out the window. You didn’t bother to close the curtain. This is common for you. It’s unlikely that anyone will see you. Cree and Nelly won’t be home anytime soon, and no stranger has business at the house. Besides, you enjoy peering outside as you unwind.

You furrow your brows. That’s funny. It wasn’t this dark before. You could delineate the closest trees. It’s as though a blanket is obstructing your visibility.

That’s when you notice the pair bloodshot eyes glowering down at you. Your heart skips numerous beats. Your mind goes blank while you examine the fiend. His irises are crimson. His pupils are death. His grin is all teeth.

You can’t swallow your misgivings. The howl that flies from your mouth is unhinged. You stumble backwards, almost tripping and falling as you struggle to get away from the window. Miraculously, the curtain survives your plight. Your shin isn’t as lucky; you smack it against the tub as you barrel out the door. Wet and partially nude, save for a towel wrapped clumsily around your torso, you back away from the room.

“(F/n)!”

Ericson is mobilized, too. You can hear her dashing up the stairs to get to you. Reaching the top step, she immediately notices your unease.

“What’s wrong?!” She shouts, skidding to a halt next to you. “Did you just scream?!”

“There’s someone outside!” You contend, legs wobbling. “They were watching me!”

“Where?!”

Without a second thought, Ericson shoves her way through the ajar door, fearlessly entering the steamy room. You witness her search thoroughly around the small area. Shutting off the shower, she unhooks the window and sticks her head out. Interestingly, the black figure is nowhere to be found. Just as it disappeared when you tore open the curtain, it fluttered into nothingness when your friend responded to its wrath. It seems intent on making this experience personal.

Your friend ceases her inspection after discovering no lingering threats. Riddled with shame, you feel silly. It doesn’t help that you’re cold and damp. Your entire demeanour is miserable. Why couldn’t you have stayed and assessed the situation? Maybe things weren’t as they seemed. Then again, if the cause truly is supernatural, you might have saved yourself by reacting.

“I don’t see anyone.” She calls, frustration washing over her peachy visage. “Where were they?”

Aversively, you take a few steps towards the bathroom. You don’t dare go back inside. Instead, you point.

“Literally standing in front of the window.”

Ericson’s expression doesn’t waver. If anything, it deepens. She return to the hallway.

“In front of this window?”

She gestures over her shoulder, to the one in the bathroom. You stare at her like she grew an extra head. You’re dripping and clad in a flimsy towel. Where else does she think you came from?

“Of course!”

Silence for an interval; then, the punchline.

“I’m asking because we’re on the second floor.”

You purse your lips. You know that; you know how stupid this sounds. But you saw what you saw. You wouldn’t cry out for fun.

“I swear I’m not making this up.”

Ericson clasps your shoulder with a ginger hand, rubbing the bare skin to soothe your raw nerves. A whimper leaves your lips. She doesn’t believe you.

“I believe you.” She mutters, contradicting the lie she’s concealing. “It’s just weird to me how someone got all the way up here.”

It would be weird, if you weren’t dealing with a multi-dimensional being.

“E, I saw his eyes.”

“His?”

“Well—“

How do you explain that you met the monster in the basement on the day you viewed the house, and that you think it’s back to wreak havoc on you for no reason? Right; you don’t. Just like you can’t confess to knowing its gender.

“I… don’t know that for sure.”

She hums.

“In any case, we should ask Cree and Nelly to search the exterior when they get home tonight.”

“Absolutely.”

Even if she doesn’t agree with what you saw, and she’s simply conceding to make you feel better, that’s still a fine idea. It rained this afternoon. The ground will be damp. They can check for footprints. You don’t know if this thing is capable of leaving a trace of itself behind, but this will be a good test to confirm your suspicions. You believe it skirts between this world and another, picking and choosing which clues to plant. If your hypothesis is correct, they won’t find a thing.

Ericson swings her arms and glances in the direction of the stairs. You worry about being left to your own devices after this. Graciously, she isn’t one to leave a loved one stranded.

“Wanna come hangout?”

You cast her a shy simper.

“Do you have to ask?”

She chuckles.

"You gonna be okay?"

It's a gamble. He could sweep you away into nothingness tonight, when everyone else is asleep. Nonetheless, you nod. For now, with her partially aware of the situation, you're fine.

"I think so."

“I’ll meet you in the kitchen, then?"

"Sure."

She flashes you the peace sign, and you allow her to depart without qualm. You think the worst of it is over. The cryptid has been intercepted, and thus, it wouldn’t dare return tonight — not with everyone on guard. Despite that, it’s hard for you to discard the eerie imprint left by the event. Thick in the air, you find it taxing to breathe through the tension.

The top of Ericson’s head vanishes as she descends. Her footfalls are faint when she closes her bedroom door. Both of you are isolated once more, though it’s only you who’s anxious. If your comrade could comprehend half of what’s lurking in this house’s bowels, she might be, too.

Gradually, you walk back into the bathroom. You squint through the steam. Fear ices your heart, giving you pause. It’s the mirror; there’s something written in the fog.

A low groan rises from your abdomen. You gaze over your shoulder. Should you run and grab Ericson? No. You want to see what it says first. It could disappear by the time you return.

You tread closer to the message. Nausea rises in your gut.

YOU LOOK AS DELICIOUS AS YOUR BLOOD SMELLS

A shiver travels up your spine. You process the note as it begins to fade, questioning why you bothered to stick around. Arguably, you could have gone without knowing that the creature hunting you is a night stalker.

“Oh my god,” you whisper. “Not a fucking vampire."

You clap a clammy palm over your mouth. If he’s not a demon, then he must be a vampire. What other beast craves human blood? But as far as you know, they’re the stuff of legends. Sure, there was Vlad the Impaler, who brutalized his enemies and danced in their blood, and Elizabeth Bathory, who bathed in tortured virgin’s blood for eternal youth, but they weren’t actually fanged and inhuman. They couldn’t vanish. They couldn't transform into a flurry of bats. They couldn’t stretch as tall as the grand window in the bathroom. And they certainly couldn’t live forever... to your knowledge.

It's challenging for you to admit that this is the work of a bloodsucker. It’s illogical and frightening. It goes against what you understand about the universe. Worst of all, how can you hope to protect yourself against something that no one else believes to exist?

When Nelly and Cree got home, you and Ericson told them about the occurance. She said she heard you scream in the upstairs washroom, so she bolted out of her bedroom and met you at the end of the corridor. You narrated how you heard footsteps and saw a set of eyes. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Cree voiced his support for your otherworldly experience.

“There’s an overhang outside the bathroom window.” He offered. “Some creep could’ve climbed up to spy on you.”

“Mm-mm.” Nelly shook her head in dismay. “I do not want to think about that.”

“But who would go out of their way to do that?” Ericson argued, unconvinced. “The road is like, an eight minute walk.”

“The house is old and run-down looking. Wanderers could think it’s abandoned, and when they found it wasn’t, they stuck around anyway. They might’ve been casing us.”

Reflecting back, Cree made a few solid points. You’re glad he’s been willing to hear you out. He might be the one you turn to if things continue to unravel. At least you know he’ll be more dedicated to grasping your perspective than the skeptical Ericson.

“We should probably check for footprints, no?” Nelly prompted Cree. “And if we find any, let’s call the police.”

“Agreed.” Ericson interjected. “If someone’s fucked enough to walk all this way from the road, just to spy on us in the bathroom, I don’t want to find out what else they have planned.”

A grim undertone lied in her statement. They don’t yet believe the source of your dismay could be anything beyond human. After all, aren’t mortals scarier than the notion of demons and ghosts and vampires? With the way mankind treats each other, always implementing new ways to maim and kill, you ought to be worried about an intruder more than a v—

You chew on your inner cheek. You’re still having trouble admitting what he is. It doesn’t feel real.

Cree and Nelly spent twenty minutes on the prowl. Predictably, they didn’t find anything disturbing. Outwardly, it seemed invalidating to your claim that there was someone watching you; inwardly, however, you were petrified with the realization that this truly isn’t another human. Part of you wanted your spooky experiences to be debunked. Why can’t it be the deranged ex-homeowner screwing with you, or some neighbour from down to street with a god complex? Either of those culprits are criminals who can locked up. A vampire can’t be stopped.

You sit on your bed. The flesh beneath your eyes is sagging and dark with exhaustion. It’s twelve past midnight. The urge to rest is nagging; sadly, fear keeps your brain on high alert. It’s impossible to sleep right now. The darkness of your room does little to lull you into a peaceful slumber.

Phone high above your head, you read what’s displayed on the dim screen. Your eyes are squinted from hours of research. You’re grateful for the internet. Discussion forums of others who claim to have encountered vampires gave you ideas on how to protect yourself. Not only that, but you’ve perused information across various cultures on nightstalkers. If you’re going to suffer from insomnia, you may as well use your time to study the enemy.

The term vampire didn’t originate until the early 1700s. Some ancient people believed that demons were blood suckers. Others thought they were ghouls roaming the plain of living, yearning to feed. Suddenly, the monster’s words echo in your mind.

But I classify myself as none of those creatures, sweetness.

He doesn’t refer to himself as a demon. The ancients were wrong. A ghoul, perhaps. For now, you’re confident to say that he’s undead.

It’s three-fifteen in the morning when you ultimately drift off. You leave consciousness while you’re neck-deep in lore, unable to fight your natural urges any longer. Unfortunately, your dreams are much different from the stark reality of supernatural forces. An unconscious mind is more vulnerable than a conscious, guarded one, and monsters know it.

[madarasgirl]

Alucard's Clothes Headcanon

His psycho murder face gets me wet

Alu used to have real clothes tailored for him. He had an entire wardrobe of fine suits complete with cravat and silk handkerchiefs, as well has multiple sets of gloves embroidered with his restriction seals. And fedora hats. And each set of clothes lasted no more than a night in the field. Actually, they lasted no more than 5 min once Alucard went for his walks

At first, only Walter was appalled because he was supposed to clean and patch the clothes, but eventually, even Integra snapped when faced with Alucard's wardrobe budget. So she made him materialize his own clothing

His choice was between wearing clothes or having unlimited blessed ammo (Abridged Alu went on one mission in the nude just to troll Integra)

[luciferborne]

𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐖𝐀𝐘  𝐓𝐎  𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓  𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑  (  tw  for  torture  ,blood  and  gore  ) [  written  from  the  perspective  of  van  helsing  as  he  conducted  the  experiments  ]

Alucard’s  power  does  not  come  from  the  sheer  fact  of  him  being  the  progenitor  to  the  Vampire  species  ,  in  fact  there  is  evidence  that  some  of  his  power  comes  from  a  deal  with  satan  himself  ,  when  faced  with  death  as  a  man  ,  as  Vlad  Tepes  III  ,  Alucard  sold  his  soul  to  satan  and  through  black  magic  most  foul  ,  the  monster  known  as  Dracula  had  come  into  being  ,  this  creature  that  now  inhabited  the  shell  of  Vlad  Tepes  was  a  bloodthirsty  monster  ,  one  that  has  been  brought  to  heel  by  myself  and  the  harker’s  ,  upon  his  defeat  all  he  had  built  was  reduced  to  nothing  ,  the  count  begged  for  death  ,  begged  to  be  slain  ,  but  the  sins  against  god  ,  against  humanity  were  too  great  and  here  in  the  basement  of  house  hellsing  I  shall  bend  the  great  vampire  to  the  will  of  The  Hellsing’s.

𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋  𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐒:  three  seals  placed  upon  the  devil’s  body  ,  burnt  into  his  flesh  via  the  means  of  holy  water  and  blessed  silver  ,  the  pain  he  felt  as  i  branded  him  ,  slashed  him  and  marked  his  flesh  brought  me  some  sense  of  pleasure  ,  a  sense  of  great  joy.    these  seals  ,  they  are  of  the  devil  himself  and  I  have  made  the  decision  to  damn  my  soul  to  hell  to  assure  he  shall  never  rise  again...      these  seals  limit  his  power  ,  restrict  his  very  soul  to  insure  that  he  does  not  bite  the  hand  which  guides  him  ,  two  upon  his  hands  control  the  intake  and  outgoing  levels  of  power  he  can  be  allowed  ,  the  one  burnt  into  his  chest  ,  right  over  where  his  black  ,  rotten  heart  would  be  insures  his  absolute  obedience  and  loyalty  to  house  hellsing  for  all  time  ,  were  he  to  ever  defy  His  Master  ,  the  head  of  Hellsing  ,  he  will  be  rendered  powerless  ,  nothing  more  than  a  husk  ,  a  decaying  shell  hellbound  for  the  sins  of  his  mortal  life.

𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘  𝐓𝐎  𝐃𝐈𝐄:    through  some  black  magick  most  foul  I  have  rendered  the  creature  nigh  susceptible  to  the  claws  of  death  ,  through  the  rituals  and  incantations  spoken  over  his  starving  ,  hunger  stricken  form  ,  I  have  made  it  possible  where  the  beast  survives  not  only  on  the  blood  of  man  ,  but  the  very  soul  and  should  he  be  dealt  what  would  be  called  a  “    FATAL  “  wound  ,  the  monster  does  not  die  ,  but  rather  ,  a  soul  that  he  has  consumed    ,  taken  into  his  being  takes  the  death  into  themselves  !    hellsing  truly  has  a  weapon  beyond  al  measure  ,  the  world  could  be  mine  if  I  willed  it  ,  but  now  the  beast  must  be  put  through  trials  ,  tests  and  more  experiements.  He  wept  uncontrollably  when  he  found  that  he  could  no  longer  die  ,  that  he  was  confied  to  this  earth  until  armageddon  came  and  god  judged  those  on  the  earth  ,  again  this  brought  me  joy  ,  to  bring  such  misery  to  the  devil  in  human  form.

𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃  𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑  𝐀𝐍𝐃  𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑  𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍:    while  the  vampire  is  know  to  be  weak  to  a  number  of  things  ,  the  spells  ,  magick  and  power  within  the  creature  has  rendered  his  vulnerability  to  silver  ,  garlic  ,  holy  water  and  other  things  near  entirely  ,  oh  the  methods  of  horror  and  pain  I  have  inflicted  on  him  ,  testing  his  durability  ,  testing  how  much  he  could  take  ,  i  have  inflicted  the  greatest  of  tortures  upon  him  ,  dismembered  him  ,  burnt  him  beyond  all  recognition  and  still  he  persists  ,  still  he  remains  !    god  may  condemn  what  I  have  done  ,  but  the  Legacy  of  Hellsing  will  live  on  thanks  to  the  atrocities  I  have  forced  him  to  endure  ! the  rest  of  the  page  is  illegible  ,  ink  faded  by  time

[theruleofbeasts]

Well, i think the hellsing brag is a bluff. Hes Dracula. Hes already going to be scary.

I think what hellsing did was perfect what was already there. Also the level restrictions. I dont think Abraham would be capable of giving him new powers.

Seras is the only other true vampire we can look at and see how powers develop and manifest. Which is also Not Perfect cus she uses her powers in ways Alucard Does Not Care to. Not that he Can't, but that he chooses not to.

(I would pull up examples of what I mean, but im on mobile right now.)

Hellsing powers exist on rule of cool, so its hard to say what the hellsing family did to make Dracula into Alucard. (A lot of Hirano's writing is more centric around character development and interactions. The powers can be whatever. He admits that the seal on alucards gloves werent drawn with the intention of dechipering. Like Zorins tattoos.)

I think level zero is a good example of hellsing interference, not because the souls were inaccessible, but the release of souls as familiars. Abraham fucked with Alucards powers and utilized release states to experiment on how exactly to use this. Abraham built a way to kill Alucard. While also making him the perfect tool.

Also its important to remember Alucard wouldn't have to go under the knife to tamper with his powers. The hellsing family are canonically sorcerers that used magic to defeat Dracula.

(Also in terms of "letting him" eat armies worth of people, they Did send him to a WWII battlefield. And all Alucard had to do is will the blood to be drank. Not biting, fighting, or anything. The work is done for him. The Hellsing abridged makes nice commentary on this.)

Or its possible Integra just. Completely lied about hellsing interface with Alucard. Even the Ripley Scroll quote is entirely something Alucard adopted himself out of respect for the hellsing family. All we have are the level restrictions.

(Zorin is also a good example of What the Fuckery. Because All Millenium vampires are technically offshoots of Alucard. Powers they have are because of whatever was cookin in Mina's DNA as a pure vampire.)

(Which is another thing that remains up in the air. What did Abraham do to make Mina human again, and was Seras in a twilight zone of possibility to being turned back [with Abraham's help], thus her eye color never changing until drinking blood? But Seras wasnt a true vampire. Mina was, for drinking Alucards blood! Things to think about in a smoking jacket.)

It’s so funny how little the vampire powers in Hellsing make sense. First of all, we’re explicitly told that Alucard is terrifying because the Hellsing family experimented on him.

Meanwhile Alucard’s trump card, is unequivocally framed as being his level zero form. MEANWHILE we already know that a) ordinary vampires can have familiars as he taunts Luke about it, and b) the majority of his familiars that we do see seem to be styled to predate the Victorian era. (also I doubt Hellsing was letting him kill entire armies’ worth of people)

So what did Hellsing actually… do in terms of enhancements? Just fuck him up aesthetically?

[rejectedembers]

Cinder or Tinder: the Shades of Magic series

Good day or good evening. I’m going to do something unique this time and tackle three books at once. I read the Shades of Magic series by V. E. Schwab one after another back in October and November, and so I think it’s only right that the review match my experience in some way. The premise of these novels is that there exists four parallel universe Earths that are connected by magic, but are otherwise inaccessible to each other except by Antari, specially gifted magic-users who can use blood magic to travel between the worlds. 

Since I’m covering an entire series, there will be spoilers as the review goes on.

A Darker Shade of Magic introduces the two main characters and the broader situation they must later face. Kell is an Antari who travels between the worlds relaying messages from the king and queen of his homeland (Red) to the rulers of the other worlds (White and Grey). The fourth world, Black, has been consumed by magic, but one day Kell is asked to smuggle a rock from one world to the next. The rock turns out to be a malevolent piece of dark magic, and so Kell and Delilah, a thief from the Grey world, set out to return it from whence it came.

A Gathering of Shadows takes up the story a couple months later. Kell suffers the consequences of his actions and has been further restricted in his travels. Meanwhile, Lilah lives as a pirate, learning magic on the high seas. With a magicians’ tournament set to take place in the capital, the stage is set to see Kell and Lilah’s worlds come crashing back together alongside some new and familiar faces.

A Conjuring of Light resumes immediately after the end of the second book. Red London has been plunged into darkness, and the shadow king’s followers threaten to break into the palace at any moment. Everyone is trying everything they can think of to keep the palace safe and defeat the shadow king. A plan is eventually formulated, and so Kell, Lilah, Alucard, and Holland set out to retrieve an item that will help them seal away the shadow king. 

A Darker Shade of Magic is a great book. Beautifully paced, Schwab doesn’t bog this story down with unnecessary details. The settings are wonderfully described, giving you just enough that you can imagine it all on your own. The plot is also pretty focused and self-contained, making the first book almost feel like a standalone novel. This book also introduces you to Schwab’s brilliant character writing. All of Schwab’s characters feel real and interesting, and what I loved the most out of this novel was simply the various character interactions to be had. The plot is, admittedly, a little weak, but doesn’t detract much from everything else.

A Gathering of Shadows starts off very strong, but ends up teetering off at the end. Schwab introduces more worldbuilding and more characters which is always a joy with her writing, but the story starts to lose focus once the plot shifts from the magic tournament to a “save the world” type of plot, and not a very unique one, either. While the introduction of the shadow king plot doesn’t come out of nowhere, it’s simply not very exciting. The characters continue to be excellently written, however.

A Conjuring of Light continues and eventually wraps up the shadow king plot. Large parts of the book don’t really involve much happening, although it doesn’t feel empty since there is a lot of character interaction. The inclusion of the MacGuffin item makes me question if Schwab had fully planned out this book before she started writing the plot since it does feel like something that comes out of nowhere. This book also includes a lot of dark stuff happening for, seemingly, shock value. The end does wrap up very nicely, however, and results in mostly happy and satisfying endings. The main draw of this book remains its characters and the way they interact with each other.

Overall, I give the Shades of Magic series the cinder rating, although I will likely rant about this series in a later post.

[scarletvampireofchaos]

Backstory

Remilia Scarlet was born to a land-owning family near the Black Forest of southern Germany in 1502. Her sister Flandre was born in 1507. That same year, Remilia was bitten by a vampire and turned herself. After turning, a fit of uncontrolled hunger caused her to attack Flandre. Her parents caught her in time before she could do more than convert Flandre instead of eviscerate her sister. However, this caused their parents to become her target instead. Mutilating them to the point of unrecognizability.

With no living male heirs, Remilia and Flandre inherited the mansion their family owned and the surrounding lands. However, Remilia quickly realized that as her sister was turned when she was much younger, she was much more feral, and so locked her away in the basement out of fear for her life.

The Scarlets continued to live a very reclusive life, trying to keep as much attention away from themselves to avoid the likes of vampire hunters… the worst among them being the Belmont family. Things were relatively uneventful until about 1983 when a vampire hunter named Sakuya Izayoi located their mansion. She was one of the various vampire hunters who took up the task of fighting the revival of Dracula after the disappearance of the Belmont family in the late 1800s, and had heard in her travels of the so-called ‘Scarlet Devil Mansion’ and the vampire who lived there.

Sakuya, who was still relatively inexperienced in vampire hunting was defeated by Remilia, but spared as the latter liked Sakuya’s courage and offered her a position to serve in the mansion. Sakuya accepted as a way to keep tabs on Remilia and because she could honestly sense no hostility from her. Sakuya quickly rose through the ranks of the staff, eventually becoming head maid, where she was then made aware of the existence of Remilia’s younger sister Flandre, who she became quick friends with.

The next major event in the lives of those in the mansion would occur in 1998. Upon hearing rumors that the vampire killer whip had returned to the hands of the Belmont family in the form of Julius Belmont and that he alongside Alucard, were planning a siege of Dracula’s castle with an international coalition, made Remilia scared for the lives of her and her sister. So with the aid of the mansion’s mage, Patchouli Knowledge, they sought a way to flee Earth before the prophecy of 1999 would come to pass, leading them to the shores of Gensokyo.

DAWN OF SORROW Several years after arriving in Gensokyo, Remilia wondered what became of the prophecy and asked Patchouli to look into the affairs of earth. She discovered Dracula's defeat at the hands of Julius Belmont and the sealing of his castle in a solar eclipse. Patchouli also informed her of the belief that Dracula's powers could be passed onto another. This motivated Remilia to try and become Dracula's successor by inheriting his powers, and somewhat validating her claim that they were relatives. With Patchouli's aid, Remilia was able to bypass the Hakurei barrier, with Flandre coming along out of a desire to do something fun, and arrive at the Hakuba shrine in 2035, entering the eclipse along with Soma Cruz and Mina Hakuba. The two had their appearances changed slightly to look like adults as to avoid suspicion amongst anyone there. The two spent most of their time isolated from the main cast except for an encounter with an amnesiac Julius whom Flandre wanted to kill, but was stopped by her sister who smelled that he had the blood of a Belmont. Eventually, after Soma's powers awakened and he and Julius had their encounter, the sisters settled on a plan. After Soma left, they attacked and killed the injured Julius to remove him as a threat. They then killed Soma before he entered Chaos's realm, with Remilia absorbing the power of dominion from his soul. Knowing that Dracula's power was linked to the life of Chaos, they wanted to make sure he was removed so that there was no restriction on their powers. After defeating Chaos, Flandre absorbed his powers. With the collapse of the castle, the two then set about killing all who had been there, to remove any witnesses, including Alucard. Victorious, the two returned to Gensokyo with their arsenal of new abilities, including an immunity to sunlight, to secretly plan the eventual takeover of Gensokyo.