{{Independent RP blog for my own intepretation of R. M. Renfield, before/during/after the events of Bram Stoker's novel Dracula. see about for more. this is a side blog; I will follow back as littlemissamethyst.}}

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death, or worse


I’m having internet issues right now. It’ll be cleared up in the next few days, most likely, but until then my presence here will be pretty sporadic. Tagging people I currently owe and/or who will most likely notice my absence over the relatively short period of the next couple days just so you…

{{ itspronouncedfronkensteen Renfield is a slippery little bastard but I’m gonna do the thing soon I haven’t forgotten}}

Renfield very rarely has to scan a crowd to see who has been staring at him. He has an ability (which generally unnerves people) of looking right up into the person’s eyes.

He knew when he was being watched.

What’s more, he knew the difference between someone looking at him and someone observing him. His perception of this difference was, admittedly, a little skewed and over-cautious. Nine times out of ten, it was nothing. The simple, one-dimensional curiosity of a stranger.

But there was always that tenth time. One never knew.

When Renfield was in a certain state of mind, he had a tendency to shrink into himself. He was a small man to begin with, but he would become smaller. Arms tucked close to his body, broad shoulders gathered inward and slightly hunched, head down. He had a habit of leaning against walls, smoking cigarettes so that he looked occupied. His thoughts certainly were, at least. Very much so.

But that did not mean he couldn’t still feel it when there were eyes on him. When they didn’t leave, he straightened up a little and met them. No sooner that than there was the trace of a suspicious squint on his face. To be fair, Renfield was almost always suspicious of people at first (sometimes also at length). Especially ones who were studying him. Because maybe there was a drop of blood on him somewhere that he’d missed, maybe they were noticing he had gone an oddly long time without drawing breath, or maybe he was acting a bit mad.

There could be no knowing whether it was best attributed to paranoia, a persecution complex, or a valid reason to be wary, but a red flag had gone up all the same.


I suddenly feel the need to write about what Camille does when Murray’s asleep. 

I feel like she’s into urban exploration a bit. Like she’ll just climb stuff and look for cool weird abandoned places. 

Then she probably goes to find Renfield and tell him about it because he’s the only person who’s interested.

{{what if she ran into him in one of those weird abandoned places

like she’s creeping around silently and sees candlelight coming from one of the rooms

there’s Renfield in a dusty old armchair reading or looking at photo albums or something}}

(via the blood is the life)

{{wow I think I may have nailed down Renfield’s astrological profile}}

schrankenlos-frei replied to your post “{{still gotta find an Old Man Renfield fc}}”

// John Hurt?

{{wow. wow. that may be an idea, there. thanks!}}

{{slowly but slowly I get through the drafts}}



*Renfield starts with a small smile, which widens slowly as he listens, to the point where he is holding back laughter. He manages to keep it in until the other man is done talking.*

"The top of the- top of the food chain-! Indeed! My good man, you really have no idea.”


I am the top of the food chain.”


[ He grimaces a bit at Renfield’s increasingly odd behaviour and steps back ]

Don’t talk nonsense.

Look at yourself, you’re a mess. You’re no more threatening than that stupid spider.

"Oh? Am I not? That’s rather funny in a way, you know- because this spider- this spider happens to be quite poisonous.”

*He lifts his face and stares at it for a moment, just smiling a wide, closed-lipped smile. As if on cue, the spider lowers itself down on a strand of silk, and stops, hovering at Renfield’s eye level.*

"Not deadly, probably- especially if you sought prompt medical attention. But if this little fellow decided to bite, you would most certainly feel the effects. He’s a rare creature, you know- and remarkably easy to misidentify as one of his more benign relations. It’s rather unusual to see one in these parts, if I recall correctly. I, however, have seen a wealth of dangerous spiders. They seem to follow me around.”

*He smiles at the thought.*

{{still gotta find an Old Man Renfield fc}}



*barely looks up as he fishes for a cigarette*


"I’m afraid there’s not much left of me tonight but attitude.”

"That’s every night", she rubbed her temple.. oh the pressure, "I do not need this right now", her dark eyes were somewhat glazed.


"Not quite your usual charming self this evening."




"You just happened to be staring off into space in my general direction, then? Well. Coincidence after coincidence."

"I am in no mood for an attitude Renfield."


*barely looks up as he fishes for a cigarette*


"I’m afraid there’s not much left of me tonight but attitude.”