castleinthemist | 001- Who could have guessed?

A coffin. Was he dreaming? For all he knew he could have been. As he awoke to the pitch black of his containment he looked up, felt around with his own fingers. Not a dream. He was a girl when he dreamed, living out the lives of those thousands of generations of girls. The second thing he noticed? He was weak, but not all of his strength had gone. He rocked in place, pulling back and pushing forth until whatever held him shook loose. He toppled forward, smashing along with the rest of the stone container.

He pushed the rubble off his weakened form and sat up, looking around the room slowly, taking in the details. The sights and smells, the ambiance of the sounds which he could hear better than any human. It was silent here, but he could hear voices resonating from within these walls. Lurks?

No, but the scent they were human. Something stuck too. A familiar scent. He seethed, thinking back to the moment when that madwoman betrayed him and left him to Gunther. Is this her doing? Or was it just a trick? Was he spun?

He pulled himself out of the rubble and started exploring the rooms, hands trailing against the cold stone sarcophagi as he headed down. Down a ladder, down stairs, down to the main level of this chamber.

This wasn't her doing. No. She was here but long before now. The scent still lingered in the air. Could be this was the work of some other higher power. Powers that be, he heard some say. Could be a demon of a sort, who he'd have to get on with. Or something else completely.

He continued onwards, finding a door at the bottom of the stairs and passing through. He felt hunger pangs pass through him as he walked and looked up with a look of curious apprehension and curiosity. A chain? To get up there? Rocketship. It didn't take him much time, but much effort? Yes. He was fatigued and following the sounds of those voices down this corridor would surly lead to these humans who had captured him.

"The watcher council." Could only be. No one else could have such a facility. He snorted a bemused chuckle as he headed down the final length of the corridor into a chamber with a glowing spring. What horrors could await them if he was right?

He rounded the spring once before moving further, down into a larger chamber where a small group gathered at a table, eating what smelled odd and couldn't taste much better.

He was surprised. Not what he expected at all. Not a single old man in sight. Good for him, he thought. That meant that nobody had any idea what or who he was. All he had to do is decide how he was going to play.

[OOC: Feel free to catch him lurking near the hallway here, watching and studying people in the common room during dinner hour.]

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And while Seishirou may be able to guide the conversation in a particular direction, he may not receive anything more than Harth wanted him to. He was after all, just playing the role of a 23rd century high school boy from Haddyn.

"What's the nature of this place? Who does this castle belong to?" He asked calmly, two very important questions.

It would be frustrating, perhaps, if there weren't dozens of other people for Seishirou to talk to, to gather information from. And even then, all of this was merely a hobby. It was obvious now that Harth knew nothing about the castle, and when escape was the only real desire Seishirou had, flitting around the edges of his mind, anything else he learned was merely-- a pleasant addition.

"The nature is what you see," Seishirou offered, gesturing. "It would be reckless of me to say anything else, when I've learned only by exploring it."

In other words this smiling needs knew nothing. Harth raised an eyebrow and turned his attention back to the humans at the table. Humans and a smaller furrier creature with large ears. Hmn. A demon?

"And nobody is in charge here. No..." He pauses, searching for an appropriate word. "No management?"

"Not at all," Seishirou replied, lightly. He had suggested it, once, in a roundabout fashion, but it seemed as though everyone was largely content to take things in the way that involved the absolute most amount of anarchy rather than have any sort of system set up yet. It hardly bothered Seishirou; he wouldn't be caught in it, either way.

No organization, no leadership. Just like a ruttin' warren. Just like home, only without the toxic waste. He crossed his arms and just watched this smiling human for a moment.

"And what else can you tell me about this place?"

"You'll need a companion if you want to escape." Worthless information: easily obtained, if you had any interest in exploration, since there were so many doors that wouldn't open unless you had more than one person to work with.

Harth initially didn't care for Seishiro's personal details, but he had been looking over his priestly guard far more closely than he had before. No cross. Nothing struck out at him as particularly threatening to him.

Looked like one of those holy men from the scopes. Not many of them back in the warrens.

"And why is that?" He asked slowly.

"You'll find many of the doors require a second party to open." It was quite inconvenient, as far as Seishirou thought of it, but it could have been worse. He had Fuuma, and he had Subaru, and many of the people here were more than happy to go exploring with him-- with anyone. Escape was pressed high into everyone's minds.

As it was in his. Having a partner complicated things if it wasn't one of his own. Soon enough he'd have to remedy that. He filed that away, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. His problem? It was timing. He noticed the sun which would block his exploration through sheer timing, but he'll get around that eventually. Just had to find someone else on his schedule.

"I see. Well if that's the case then I will have to find a partner of my own, won't I?" Provided they're willing to go with him at night.

Seishirou had always been amused at the way vampires varied from world to world, and he would have been even more amused to hear such an obvious weakness from Harth. The vampires that he knew were souled and fed on the soulless, and feared neither sunlight nor holiness.

"You will. It shouldn't be hard." Seishirou's tone was light with the comment; shouldn't was different than won't and accounted for the many number of things that could go wrong or backfire when dealing with a variety of different people. "As most people have similar goals, most seem willing to group up."

Harth would probably have liked to know how many worlds Seishirou had experienced, had he actually said that aloud.

"How willing are you?" Harth said, his voice dry and absent of much anything but bemused curiosity. That said--

"Exactly what profession do you hold?"

"I'm a traveler," Seishirou replied, airily. It was a half truth, but true enough. "I do research." Well-prepared answers given multiple times over the course of the past few years-- and with little reason to give any more truthful answer, why would he bother to be honest? It would lead to more questions, after all, and he had no reason to want to answer them, yet.

"Hm." Interesting.

"Are you a priest?" Short, but an efficient question. By the looks of his clothing he'd probably say that would be an affirmative.

"And research on what?"

"I am not," Seishirou replied, tone a little airy. He was used to the assumption and hardly minded it, but it was the furthest thing from truth.

"I research folklore."

Folklore. Something he was once apart of, or is a part of. Suppose in some times and in some places, vampires were simply the stuff of legend. Manifestation of human fears and indulgence. And those stories were partly true, but so far from it at the same time.

As for his garb? It was odd to him that he'd wear something that would potentially confuse others, unless in his time that style didn't quite mean the same thing.

"What kind?"

"All kinds," Seishirou replied easily, the same airy tone to his voice. It was the tone of someone who is either telling a truth they have said many times, or an easy, well-rehearsed lie. "I specialize in the creatures of folklore."

"Creatures. Such as?" Harth pressed. How interesting that this man is so laconic. Vague. What'd he have to hide?

[OOC: And I meant to reply to this a while ago... Inbox collapsed.]

001- Who could have guessed?

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