Re: in-person: mina/dracula
He did not understand why she might want to forget, why her humanity, her innocence, may be a thing to be mourned. Centuries upon centuries of undeath, immortality, and Dracula felt as though his life beforehand was little more than a dream. Wisps, faint and easily waved away. Ignorance was a waste of time. "Do you not wish them to return?" Curious, with a touch of mild disappointment. "What answers do you long for?" Silly, meaningless things, perhaps. Sunshine and gentlemen and dances, but those were flimsy facades, easily torn down, and there was more truth to be found in the darkness than in the light.
Ah, madness. He knew the sound. Head tipped to the side as she spoke, described the life which had once been hers, but no more, no longer. "Is that what you wish to be, Mina? A doll, a toy, a decoration? Surely you cannot be satisfied with such a lot in life." His gaze burned, fire stoked higher and higher still. "I think you have the potential to be terrifying," he breathed, "to those beneath you." Dracula feared nothing, he had not been struck with terror in—as long as he could remember, and his memory stretched far, far back indeed.
His smile was cruel and triumphant. Her awakening, yes, it had only been a matter of time, and he knew she was no mindless servant; it was what set her apart. He had underestimated Sir Malcolm, thought his love for his daughter—a foolish thing, love—would stay his hand; Dracula would not make such a mistake again. His gaze lowered to her teeth, lingered, and slid back up.
"Yes." The word was a hiss. "I have waited for you to return to me, to embrace what you are. Not a toy, not a decoration. You shall never be that again."