Headmaster
Clocktower, 700 Feet Below Ground
At a later time
It hadn't been difficult to remove the vampire from the bottom of the lake or to restore the basic shape of the street he'd helped ruin. Acquiring the right measures to keep him safely restrained had merely been a matter of making the right calls and demands. Transfering him to the appropriate location had been more logistically complicated. It was a welcome surprise that he seemed unable to move effectively within water at all, but passing him through a door to his new holding place and placing the bindings without risking his release set a nervous mood upon everyone who had made themselves available to help. The Headmaster had smiled firmly with a severe bent to her eyebrows through the process, betraying no sign of turmoil until it was done.
Which brought them here. This grey and onyx room deep into the foundations of her home, where the vampire sat on a simple chair. His ankles and wrists were weighed down and bound together to the other with thick electronic manacles, red-tinted chains wrapped around his waist to connect to pillars equidistant from the center of the room, and multiple magic circles that limited his movement and vampiric might shone dimly on the glazed tiles of the floor. Entangling and self-devouring knots were engraved along the arches above his head and the variable width of the pillars every few feet, and orbs mounted upon the mid-point of the walls illuminated the chambers.
The two parts of the black iron door slid shut behind the Headmaster, forming once more an undecipherable sigil in relief on its surface. She came in with a steaming cup and a chair, and saw about setting them both down, one on the utilitary table in front of her prisoner, and the other on the floor, unfolded, before she proceeded to sit.
"Now. I don't believe I caught your name," she said. After a moment, she pulled the hood down, revealing the slightly unkept bun and pinned braids of her hair. "What do you say we begin there?"
Costin Andrei
"Ah..." His messy hair dripped down the cool floors, the magnificent braided mane of his undone by the prior battle. Wretched. Defeated. But the apostle hardly looked like the loser of that battle. His form and wounds were mended perfectly. Not a single open wound, nor a broken bone to claim his. The only wounds and scars on his body were old, ancient things best left forgotten. But without so much as a rat crawling these dungeons, he amused himself scraping at the floors.
Scraping, scraping, scrape. Like a claw digging inside your skull. The sound reverberated sickly, like a mad pitter-patter. But it wasn't mad or senseless. Even a small ritual like this could hold off the dark impulses swirling in his mind.
Step. Step. Step...
And then the steps. He heard them from so far away, his lips quaked in anticipation. Hatefully, the vampire salivated. Her scent. Her form. The music-like sounds were this close to him - and as if by some sorcery, these sensations dulled the scrapings and the scratchings. As if her presence was more calming than any of that violence. In a way, you could tell he liked her.
Because of that, he took his time. He didn't act so abrupt as to spit out a curse or an injurious phrase. He took the time and care to answer her thoughtfully.
Extinction"Former 14th member of the 27 Dead Apostle Ancestors.
[絶滅] , Costin Andrei." And yet Costin's lips were curled up like the broken glass moon, betraying his good mood. Truth be told, for a guest, he was behaving himself extraordinarily well... at least in the cage. Even if he couldn't move through water, he hardly attempted to flee or resist - and he hardly harmed any of his jailors. Of course, she was no exception. "Ku ku ku... If I did, I would not share with such a rude visitor. Those were your words, nameless mage. And yet you'd ask me something so bold with your lonesome cup in hand, and after chaining me so thoroughly. What am I to make of that?"
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