My name is Rachel Alucard, present head of the Alucard Family. It would be best to explain that I am among the highest order of nightwalkers; a vampire, bound to the night and by a thirst for the lifeblood of mortals. I should like to explain what has me in such a poor temper, but I feel that a preface is important to my part in this story.
Vampires are such an ancient race that neither I, nor even my wise, faithful servant Valkenhayn R. Hellsing can say for sure from whence they emerged, nor at what time in the distant reaches of history they first entered the night. Was there even a first vampire? Or can we trace our lineage from some unknowable entity, very different from what I myself am? I cannot pretend to know all things there are in this odd world of ours; this does not mean that I cannot partake in theorizing and the occasional Socratic seminar, mind. Truth be told, were I to not have those rare intellectual meetings, drawing on the foggy reaches of Creation for my vampiric kin every once in a blue moon, I would likely go utterly stark raving mad.
...
Oh, do be sensible. I am allowed to make the occasional pun of the night, am I not? With my present emotional state, you should count yourself lucky I deigned to put up a front of benign humor at all. Those who do not appreciate good will are tend to find themselves abruptly wanting for kindness where there is none to be found. Yet, I suppose now, I am not being quite so civil as I expect of others. There is a reason for that, I assure you - yet I shall leave it up to you to discern whether or not said reason is valid.
I've just returned from a visit to Kokonoe. I said nothing on the matter, but her eyes were quite red, and her face was flushed. She'd been crying. The reason this has me disconcerted is that Kokonoe is not a woman who cries. Nor is she a woman of unconditional kindness - It took a great number of loops before I came across an iteration of hers who felt the desire, and had the capacity, for a reasonably civil conversation. She's callous, rude, foulmouthed, lewd, brilliant, strong, witty, and I will not lie when I say she's among the few mortals I admire. I wish I could wear my heart on my sleeves in her fiery manner; my life is dominated by a porcelain mask of etiquette and aloof disconnection.
I often find myself in want of a way to dash that mask on my castle's many empty halls.
Only Valkenhayn has ever seen me drop my guard, and even then, it's exceedingly rare. I have only permitted him to know my feelings, of wanting to tell Ragna that he's important to me, to tell Kokonoe I admire her so deeply, that I want my parents, anyone at all to tell me what I need to do to stop everyone from getting killed, over and over again, before my eyes. I know that Nago and Gii have frequently seen a single falling star of a tear vanish into an untouched cup of tea, when I've been forced to see another loop end in destruction. They never address this, and simply stay there by my side while I let my sorrow disperse. I'm too afraid of losing their respect, or perhaps fear, to tell them that they are truly precious to my heart.
Tonight, I've gone through the process of donning every layer of dress. I carefully tie the ribbons to secure my pigtails, in the midst of a careful brushing process. I don't care for just how much of my will to carry on is sustained by hollow rituals and icy masks. I'm hoping that I will find a distraction, tonight, from my constant tedium.
Perhaps I shall ensure that Kokonoe does not succumb to despair.