WELCOME TO DREAMWIDTH, HERO...

The drums of war are sounding, heroes.

[ A gunshot. ]

A madman of the most lowly, wretched kind hath gone unchained for far too long, and now ye reap what ye have sown. Mmmmmmmm -- a bitter, twisted irony. So concerned with life, so protective of the sanctity of mankind, and yet...

[ Snarling, followed by the sound of movement and grotesque tearing noises. ]

Delicios...This night of carnage, this ground unhallowed by the souls of the dying. The drums of war sound, heroes! Can you not hear them? Can you not feel what your levity has wrought!

[ More gunshots. ]

Every death rests on your conscience; every innocent lost yet another tally in a war only one side seems truly prepared to fight! Slăbănog! Trădători! Pretenders to the throne! Heroes!

[ Holy shit does he ever run out of ammo? ]

The Hellsing Organization deems your methods insufficient. Disorganized. Replete with moral and cognitive dissonance. Though these creatures may have once been human, I am willing to do what must be done. The Hound may be without Master, but fangs left idle only grow ever hungry.

[ He pauses. The air seems to vibrate with static. ]

--Releasing control art restriction system...Three...Two...One...Approval of Situation A recognized. Commencing the Cromwell invocation...Ability restrictions lifted for limited use until the enemy has been rendered...Silent.

[ And then the screaming begins. ]

Mine orders have always and forever been...to search and destroy.

Hrm. Hnn. A waiting game, is it? Then run, run, run my wayward assassins. Heroism and cowardice are only separated by varying degrees of success.

[ A beat. ]

I am in need of persons capable of procuring the following.

( ][ Text file attached; list. doc ][ )

Failing that simple task, an investigator will do.


ooc | wtf. my post disappeared.

Bună seara, cetăţenii! Bună seara! Haha! The future truly does hold wonder and promise~ For those lucky few of us stolen from worlds twenty years past, this prison is a near smorgasbord of experiences...!

[ Alucard laughs, really hamming it up. Those of you with supernatural hearing may catch something else in the background, as well -- something akin to a high-pitched whistle. ]

Dueling pianos, he said! Mhmhmhmhmhm! And I, ever the learned, decrepit man; ever set on my path to oblivion: I did not think it so grand a thing! Ha! Dueling pianos, I'd said, so incredulous and crass a man as there ever was!

[ More laughter, and perhaps the sound of something being spilled on the ground. The whistling sound is closer, now. ]

How wrong I was, Floyd...! How wrong! It feels as though I've been asleep; as though once more I've spent years buried beneath the Earth, only taking part in the world by proxy. And the night is still so young~! Ha! I must find a way to thank you--

[ That whistling sound gets louder, almost unbearably so, and Alucard finally seems to notice it. ]

--Mm?

( ][ And Alucard takes an RPG to the face. ][ )

[ Video Mode: Initializing...Done! ]

_{[ There's tapping. Tap, tap, tapping. A finger on word, hard. Harder still. Scrrrrritch. Scratch. Tap. ]}

Fi, fie, foe, fum.

<sub>[ The voice is low and saturnine, barely registering above a whisper. More tapping. Scratch. ]

Oh, how I long for the blood of an English Mum.

[ A laugh, low and dull. Tap. There's a pause, as if whomever is making the sound is considering something. ]</sub>

Hell~o out there, Ci-ti-zens. [ A gentle chuckle ] I've been watching you -- all of you. [ . . . ] Heh. It seems that I've been -- Ah, no: let me rephrase. It seems that we have been dragged into the same den of inequity together, no? A city bereft of a name, part stronghold and training ground and war-zone. City the City, and its many estranged guests have the wherewithal to label themselves protectors. Heroes. Vigilantes. Viteaz.

[ Pause... ]

And yet you all sleep the same sleep.

[ And another pause. ]

Why is that, I wonder? And such a thing to call it: the fetal position. [ A low chuckle. ] It implies helplessness. Weakness. Fear. How strange a turn of phrase, for a city led by a god.

Hm~

...Have any of you seen a dog about? [ . . . ] He is around...well, it isn't as if you'd see him, if the opportunity presented itself. Baskerville gets so terribly hungry when left off his leash.