Aleera

[Aleera is in her room. Those who have seen it before shall remember this as something straight out of a gothic horror fantasy. A replication of whatever chamber of the Dracula family's ice which was allocated for her personal use. Hardly any light, save for that from the fireplace. A luxurious four-poster bed, complete with silky curtains and luxurious crimson sheets upon it.

And, of course, high up, the four walls lined with trophies of demonic-looking skulls. Never any telling where they had come from, but their empty sockets always seemed to look down and follow whoever might have entered the place.

The red-haired vampiress, herself? Still speaking with that same thick, Eastern European accent as ever. Still dressed in her pink and white silks. Looking every bit the enigmatic nocturnal predator she always did. But this is the Aleera of now... The one who's changed for the better.]

Strange dreams I have had. One, I came to meet... Someone who wished me well. My first teacher in this place. Giselle. This...

[A fond nostalgic smile.]

It was a good thing.

[She looks around herself. Not for any particular reason. Just because it might be for the last time. There's some smiling, every now and then, through what follows.]

I remember when... We did not have these contraptions, these devices. When everything was written by pen and ink. When portraits did not move. When there were few of us here... The pirate lady, Sam, the one who would be called 'Master' and strode through time... The Marquis with his tales of bobbins! Few of us left now. Even the boy, Prefect... Yes, you! You were as I! A student... One whose time came to... Grow. To move beyond what once was.

[There's a long pause.]

My sister in damnation and blood... Verona. She went through the same, but did not return. Chose not to teach others, as I have tried. And I have received... A message was sent my way. I am needed for a matter best left unspoken. Something I must attend to with her. I can help there... I can provide what is needed.

And so, my time comes, now, to leave. Perhaps to return? I cannot say... Maybe, maybe not. But look upon me if you require proof. Proof there can be change in even the most darkest of creatures. Perhaps not all of the Admiral's doing, for I will admit, much of it came of my frustration of this place! Not happiness with my lot! But, yes... It changed me. I am led by other things now. Different.

Goodbye, my friends... Treat one another well, no? And if you hear whispers in the shadow... Perhaps it is I in your dreams.

And Vladislaus...

[She begins to say something, but... Words do not seem at all apt enough. It's the one person here with whom she shares the most history - something must be said.]

I have little time left, but no matter what has passed between us... I hold kind thoughts of you. Do not think, as some of our kind do, that I resent my mortal years ending. I have much appreciation for my... Our... Gift. I shall use it wisely. I regret only that I cannot remain to see you... Ascend. But know I leave only to aid Verona in a time of need.

[OOC: Aleera can reply for a short while longer, but then she is gone! If Dracula's writer wants, Aleera has used her talent for painting to make a tasteful family portrait of herself, Verona and Marishka with him in the fortress. A fond token of their days of glory! If desired, it can be resting by his door.]

My friends... Those who would be my enemies... And those who do not even know much of me, at all.

I do not hide this from the one who made me; Vladislaus. I see this too often - too many secrets here... So much hiding of words and intentions! But, nonetheless, there have been... Conversations with him, of late. And with others, too, yes. But his have had the most effect upon me.

For some of you, like me, this has become something of a home. For a few, it was once, also like me, seen as a prison. Then a method of salvation. A way to avoid... The after. Destruction. Oblivion.

I returned here with a mind to repay this debt. For I and my sister by fang and blood, Verona, were rewarded with new existence. New lives... And it was for us to choose in which manner this came to us. We decided to keep our dark gifts, for we could enjoy so very much more with these intact. Do not pity our conditions! It is a fun thing! And, truly, what good would I be if given back my mortality? What would I make of my lessons if I was not susceptible to the same temptations as before?

By ignoring them or... Fashioning them to a newer, greater purpose... I prove something to myself. I need no other's approval for this thing. I do it for myself. I have... Grown.

But I have had few to teach and I have not succeeded. Perhaps, I ask myself, my return should not have returned with such haste? Yes, I can conduct myself well while here, but the more I exist within these walls, the less experience I have of how it is to be a part of a world. To observe society... To be within it, even if not of it.

And now I suspect my presence here, now matter how I try to avoid making influence, is affecting my dear Vladislaus... He may deny this. Perhaps not. But it is what I feel and I must be honest with myself.

I spoke of how some of you have - and will - come to view this place. Well, something else you will come to think of is how you will be remembered by others. Those you came to know who dwell here after your time. The good times and bad.

And I have come to think this: That it does not matter. I give impressions here, yes. But there is my world and I am lacking in it now, when I could rejoin Verona and assist her there!

Perhaps my ramblings, so far, mean nothing. But I wish it to be known I am considering whether to leave. For good or... Possibly just a short time. Unless I am chosen as a teacher, of course. But if not... I think it wiser I be somewhere I can make differences, yes?

Not a decision. Not yet. But perhaps soon.

Fresh blood...

[The flame-haired, Transylvanian-accented vixen presently on your screens is smiling in her usual not-at-all-aware-that-being-predatory-is-a-bit-frowned-upon manner. Mainly, because she's so used to it.]

Some new, some old... Perhaps one amongst you I shall be asked to administer, in time.

Please, make yourselves at home. The better that we may get to know you.

[What's that? Why, it's the ship's resident crimson-haired ye olde vampire. One who is RAVING THE FUCK OUT to something she normally wouldn't, which is beating loudly over the jukebox thing in the bar.

YES. SHE IS TOTALLY ROCKING IT HYPER WITH FANGS AND SWISHY SILK DRESS. SHE NEEDS SOME GLOWY STICKS OR SOMETHING.

Why, you may ask? Why is she even broadcasting this? Because, on the counter, you can see a fuckload of sugar from a really large jar, which she's apparently been dumping in many glasses of blood. So, there is no an even-more-hyper-than-usual Aleera bouncing around in dance, like a over-excited kitten on crack.]

YESSSSSSS...!

Hmm... To have one's student removed without warning makes for great dissatisfaction. But perhaps she can learn from Toshiko, better than I. The one who guided me.

Until another comes my way, should any have need of my talents, I may be called upon.

Private - Admiral:

Lua is to have her journal changed, please. Her privacies are to be no more.

Private - Lua:

You will no longer scheme in your writings without my knowing. There shall be no secrets. The Admiral will soon make this so.

You must earn this privilege back.

The one known as Moriarty sought to have me suspected of murder...

Was this known? And if so, when was I to be informed?

Vladislaus, do not write to me of respect, of equalities, of our agreement for boundaries, only to cross my affairs in this way.

Yes, I know how you are... I meekly stood by with Verona in disbelief when you told us you would seek another to replace poor Marishka. Not even time to mourn was given and we feared that you would think so fleetingly of us, should our times also come.

It was not my place, in those days, to stand against you. And yes, your pull, was like that of a magnet upon my blood, my heart, made me wish to think such concerns away. To ignore them, because family was our strength.

So, here we are. Another time. A different place. And your pull, here, is weakened, yet I give you my care and support, still. I spoke to you of the need... Of what this place can bestow, amidst the humiliations and horror. That it could renew you, offer life - a new life. That you would no longer have to face oblivion.

You tell me I am respected. That we must be careful. That you claim to understand when I say these things... And now I discover you have not merely sought pleasure in the flesh of another - and that, at least, I could find understanding in. But you have sought it in my student. The one I am expected to guide.

What is worst of all, you do not realise you may have given her the very thing she is meant to AVOID.

It is rare for me to make demands of you and so, I ask only for decision: You will leave her be or I must request another to teach. I cannot have these... Contrivances working against me - and I cannot have annoyance growing within me against her.

You must choose. Do not act like martyr if you feel the desire for this girl will fester and claw at you. This is not about our past and I am not here to police who choose to bed. It is about my teachings.

As selfish as I know I can be, to continue this way is not fair to her.

Crazy snake boy
Man of serpents
Commander of cobras
Doctor of hisses
Frustrated youth

CRAZY SNAKE BOY!

You like contraptions and devices - I have idea for you to create with my good friend, Toshiko! It will do much to enforce punishments of horror upon those who cause a great many murders!

[Shown just under her writing, for all to see, is Aleera's picture of her 'ADMIRAL'S PAIN MACHINE' idea (in underlined capitals and everything). It's the result of a hyperactive Transylvanian vampire bride's sum total of mechanical engineering knowledge, resulting from hanging around Frankenstein's weird lightning machine thingy, which Igor helped to make work, back in her world...

It's the most over-complicated mechanised contraption one could ever imagine, operated by steam and electricity, ropes and pulleys. A stick figure of someone with an ANGRY FACE is being shown shoved into a vertical casket. Arrows and labels describe the machine somehow magically subjecting the victim to 'GREAT PAINS OF HORROR' and 'DIRTY PEASANT HUMILIATION'; except she doesn't give an explanation for how this is meant to happen. In fact, the only thing one can possibly work out from how she's labelled the thing is that it might actually do a rather good job of washing clothes... If one wanted to use up several hundred thousand volts and produce copious amounts of steam, in the process.

Another diagram shows the stick figure with what is now a HAPPY SMILE, being led out and released from it! For some reason, they are now without shoes. There is also a mysterious pipe which now drips with a curious red substance, leading off to a tank which is labelled 'MEAT-JUICE'.

It's sort of like if O'Brien went insane and decided to devise how to brainwash people with completely unworkable steampunk technology.]

You can make work, yes?

Brother... You will return. Now.

Or must I find you before the hunters?