RP:Celiann of the Coterie
The Crypt, Vailkrin
Celiann has most certainly made herself at home in the crypt. She has dragged down a mattress, a blanket, a little pillow and numerous scrolls and books that are strewn across said mattress. As she sits there quietly reading, the necromancer is attended to by the rotting and almost skeletal corpse she has bound to her will. With the telltale sound of liquid pouring into a cup, it is obvious that this corpse is no more than a butler or valet to the scholar. “T-Thank you,” the vampire was not without manners, even though she had full control over this corpse. A fingertip pushed her round spectacles up the bridge of her nose a little more before she sipped at her drink, leaving a little bloodtache on her upper lip as she turned the page of her book. A floating orb produced enough light for the woman to read. It was evident that this orb was not one of fire – given that the scholar would be against a ball of fire being near such dry parchment – and a simple spell that most novices learned.
Satoshi is presently making her now habitual rounds of prowling Vailkrin's castle, in search of either entertainment or someone to harass and torment--the latter sufficing as entertainment on particularly moody days. This is one such day, as is evident by the jerked lashing of her tails and predatory gleam of her eyes. The magus is restless, tension rising off her as a crackling haze of frost that's sent the more keen-eyed of staff to tend to their duties elsewhere. Thus is what leads to Satoshi's hauntings carrying her eventually toward the crypt, trespassing into Celiann's stomping grounds with all the bushy tailed abandon of a stray cat looking for a confrontation.
Kasyr is currently engaged in his time honoured tradition of chain-smoking, and shuffling about paperwork- though this process has become less of a burdensome trial now that he's shuffling those boxes of parchment to someone else. Specifically, the revenant is currently making his way out from the library, and meandering towards the crypt in search of Celiann, so he can dump the lastest crate of Vailkrin related work on her...alongside a collection of older documents from when Ginger was ruling. The latter bit is less pressing...but, of some interest to the Kensai all the same.
Celiann came to the crypt for peace and quiet, to read and enjoy her studies without worrying about whether or not Kasyr and Satoshi were studying as she had requested. But now both the kit and Kensai were here and she was left to watch them, almost flabbergasted, as one bristled and the other was ready to dump a crate of work before her. “W-Well… S-Shall w-w-w-we start a b-b-b-b-book club?”
Satoshi's ears swivel forward from their flattened position, intrigue overriding malice at the necromancer's stammered offer. She'd nearly forgotten about the ritual--not for lack of studying, mind you. Satoshi's a proper scholar and has committed Celiann's notes to memory. But that also required less than a week of devotion, which has left the magus since on her skulks through the castle. Said tensions evaporate with all the haste of snow at the beach now, Satoshi's attention fully captured, and an almost too eager look thrown Kasyr's way as she shuffles up beside her.
Kasyr glances between Satoshi and Celiann, his expression one of abject befuddlement more than anything,"It's not exactly light reading material I brought, so if you're thinking to sit down, have some tea, et pour over some books, this would be sorely dissapointing." At this point, the boxes are settled onto the ground, before he sidles them over towards the pair with his foot, "... But er, you know, sure? I guess. If you find something worthwhile to pore over. I don't see why I'm being asked. It's not like I have a pointed hat or are the bookish sort." Really, the Kensai doesn't really read much beyond the papers, documentation, and the occasional bit of literature related to vampirism.
Celiann had been making a joke, but she was never the best at delivering them. Always fumbled the punch line or thought jokes about death were hilarious, which was apparently not a social norm. Who knew? The necromancer looked to the crate of books as if assessing how much paperwork was inside with a mere glance, “I w-w-will g-get to it,” she answered, meaning she’d read it all and wouldn’t skip a single paragraph. “H-Have you b-b-b-both come l-looking for m-m-me?” she asked, obviously pointing out it was unusual for the two of them to have turned up at the exact same moment unless they were looking for her. Or maybe she just didn’t know them that well.
Satoshi might have pointed out that is actually isn't that unusual for herself and Kasyr to show up at the same place on seemingly different errands. They had a natural tendency toward such 'coincidences'. Sometimes purposeful, sometimes a product of their empathic ties, but almost always resulting in both showing up. But Satoshi doesn't get to point this out, instead she gets to look deflated. She'd missed Celiann's joke, too eagerly mistaking it for an invitation to begin the re-siring ritual and thus bring the necromancer into their fold--and the 'book club' alongside Svilfon. A sullen look is given to the crateload of paperwork before she flicks the expression toward Kasyr, her voice carrying the hint of a sulk, "Y'know, she'll never get to finish all that studying, if you keep saddling her with this stuff."
Kasyr s' ears flatten back, his expression briefly flickering towards a grimace, "But, I mean, she offered to help with the workload." And the revenant -really- doesn't want to navigate Gingers documents, considering they read like an elaborate maze of words. With a sigh, the Kensai rubs at the side of his head...a motion that hopefully distracts from the manner in which his foot gingerly nudges the boxes a bit closer to Celiann. "Anyways, er. -I- came to see how tu were doing, et to see if you could help me a bit with some recent paperwork regarding some..er, militant preperations...and some background documents from when Ginger was in charge. Maybe try and see if there's anything squirreled away in an investment ou...something of that ilk." The revenant glances over towards Satoshi, "What brings you here?" The box gets another subtle foot nudge.
Celiann ’s skeletal manservant waits until Kasyr’s foot nudges the box again before suddenly lunging with a classical zombie groan and grasping the box, as if it were trying to give Kasyr a little fright or just a jump. “Behave,” the necromancer warned, watching as the corpse dropped the crate behind Celiann and began to rifle through the papers as if attempting to vaguely organise some of it or see just how organised it already was. “I’ll g-g-g-go through the p-p-paperwork. B-But speaking of s-s-studying… you are r-r-ready for the r-r-ritual?”
Satoshi prefers to appear like she's eternally in the know and ever prepared, a fact which leads to her standing a little straighter and puffing out her chest importantly. "-I'm- ready. I've read your texts inside and out." In a mimicry of the the necromancer's habit, she adjusts the orange-tinted optics resting on the bridge of her nose then. Sure, she'd originally shown up to see if she couldn't hassle a reaction out of Celiann, but they don't need to know that. Satoshi's happy to make it seem like she's here purely on the important business of dangerous rituals.
Kasyr s' reaction wasn't anything overly remarkable, the zombie merely precipitating the revenant into flicking his right hand down towards his waist. A gesture which the revenant is able to transition into simply fumbling into his pocket when it doesn't decide to nip at his heels, and thus discreetly dispose of the Mithril Scalpel he'd slid out from his sleeve into his palm. ...Sadly, it's not even really an overreaction, considering the general habits of Coterie- and he's already considering the little necromancer as one of them. Speaking of which, "I looked over the notes, oui. I had a bit more free time to devote to the matter, what with your recent bit of aid in office work."
Celiann would have probably been just a tad upset if her poor manservant had been slashed. He was just a grumpy sort, he really meant no harm. The scholar eventually rose to her feet, briefly dusting off her robes and flicking back some twisted and perpetually messy lock of hair before looking between Satoshi and Kasyr. “Then you have a-a-a-assembled all the m-m-m-materials?” she asked like a teacher waiting for a student to answer. “The p-p-pure h-holy water is in m-my possession,” she said, remembering Satoshi giving it to her. “You h-h-have d-dragon blood?” A short pause, “The b-b-binding words? It’s m-m-meaningless if y-y-you don’t h-h-have words to p-put me in y-your house, you know. Spells and m-m-magic know the difference.”
Satoshi bristles, her stance becoming all the more self-important. Is Celiann really questioning her knowledge of the arcane? "The blood of the Sire binds the fledgling, there are no sigils or words. This isn't a spoken or written contract, blood runs deeper." Too late, Satoshi realizes that perhaps she's just being tested by the necromancer, something that has the magus almost, -almost- feeling sheepish at her snippish response. It's enough, at least, to make the kit shuffle nearer to Kasyr, using his back to half-conceal herself as ears fold back in a peevish manner.
Kasyr , in theory, could have likely provided some form of reassurement that he had no intention of -slashing- her manservant- ...though his actual intention with the blade likely would have distressed every in the relative vicinity of the Kensai. But that's neither here nor there. Instead, the revenant simply listens, and casually nods to the requests...save when she gets to the final part, at about which point the revenant inclines his head over towards Satoshi. A motion made slightly awkward when she decides he makes an admirable bit of cover.
Celiann , rather than be insulted by Satoshi’s bristling, is pleased to see her bristle. It means she knows her stuff. The scholar smiles at Satoshi, “N-N-Not that I h-h-had any doubts a-about you s-s-studying, but a l-l-little t-t-test isn’t g-going to hurt. I d-d-did warn in my n-note that there w-would be a t-test, didn’t I?” A test of memory there. “S-Shall w-we do it n-n-now or m-must either of y-y-you prepare?”
Satoshi retorts, "A mage is -always- ready." Which carries a fair bit less power when she's partially hidden behind Kasyr to lick her wounded pride. In truth, she can't rightfully be annoyed or angry. Celiann is simply keeping Satoshi on her toes, the same of which can be said about all members of the Coterie--Celiann's methods are simply intellectual rather than violent or physical. Half-smirking at this thought, the kit nudges Kasyr's shoulder and quietly murmurs, "You ready too? Your role's the biggest here."
Kasyr gives Satoshi a somewhat amused look, "It's the finishing touch, but I wouldn't exactly state that it's the hardest. The madamoiselle has to imbibe that concoction in the first place, after all." And not roll over dead from doing so, is left unsaid- though the revenant does give Satoshi a glance. He's had enough bad run-ins with dragons blood to be leery of the stuff.
Celiann is well aware of her role to play in this ritual. Frankly, she wishes she doesn’t have to do it but being a part of the Coterie might just be worth it. “Then, well-p-p-prepared m-mage, cast me a c-c-c-container of i-ice. I w-w-want to fit in it and h-h-have r-r-room for K-Kasyr to d-d-do as he must,” she said, slipping the vial of blessed water from her shoulder pouch. “J-Just l-l-like c-creating any other v-vampire,” she muttered, making a beckoning motion with her free hand to indicate she wanted the vial of dragon blood now.
Satoshi steps out from behind Kasyr, looking less irritated and more eager than she had moments prior. With a deft motion, a hand disappears into the confines of her satchel, only to return seconds later with a delicate gold and glass corked flask. Its vibrant red contents ripple ominously as she passes it to Celiann with a fang-filled grin. "Elder Silver, fresh and chilled. If that can't purge vampirism, nothing can." Flask relinquished, the magus turns her attention to an open area of the crypt, floor clear of debris or coffins to provide room to work. For the next few moments, Satoshi will tune out Kasyr and Celiann alike, her attention devoted upon weaving a melody. The words are archaic, heavy with the weight of magic as they strive to persuade the ambient moisture out of the surrounding airs. In an underground crypt, there is a surplus of watery sources, something Satoshi grasps upon, drawing them to herself as she wills them into a single shape. A flash of azure and a glassy thunk precedes the end of the kit's spellsong, Satoshi stepping aside with a flourish to present Celiann her 'vessel'. An elegant little coffin wrought of ice, as clear as glass and as frigid as a Frostmawian glacier, awaits the necromancer with enough space to be considered 'cozy' at best.
Kasyr , for his part, just moves to sit on the lid of a nearby tomb- so that he might oversee the frigid casket from a close vantage point. Once situated, the Kensai simply removes the scalpel he'd deposited in his pocket, if only to begin twiddling it between his fingers. In truth, the revenant can't help but be a combination of curious and anxious. This process, untested as it is, is a fascinating diversion and guaranteed to prove educational.
Celiann is not a fan of coffins, not since her misadventure with those radical clerics and her former House. It seemed like a symbol of betrayal, but she assumed it was selected solely for its efficiency rather than aesthetic. On the topic of dragon blood, however, the scholar scoffs, “I d-d-don’t see what’s s-so good about t-t-those silvers anyway,” she muttered, “j-just like a-any old dragon!” Clearly she wasn’t too fussed about which species of dragon the blood came from. But she took the vial and removed the stopper, doing the same for the vial of blessed water so she might mix the two together. Carefully swirling the vial, the necromancer stepped into the icy coffin and glanced between the two: “If I d-d-d-die, I w-w-w-will h-haunt y-y-you both. And I w-w-will m-m-make a mean p-poltergeist,” she warned, perhaps humorously or perhaps seriously. “Ready?” she asked the two of them. Once they had confirmed they were ready, the necromancer would nod to stifle or conceal that anxious gulp before swallowing the contents of the vial.
Satoshi might have picked a coffin solely as a private bout of revenge on Celiann for making the kit look silly. Or she might have picked it for its functionality. It's hard to say with Satoshi. Either way, the magus nods when asked if she's ready, hands held up to show they're aglow with azure light, magic poised to act.
Kasyr shrugs a bit at Celiann's exclamation, "Hey, they don't breathe scathing beams of light. That's a plus side." Stupid mercury dragon. Waving that thought aside, the revenant simply returns his attention towards the minute necromancer, "Bien sur, et bonne chance." And with that out of the way, the Kensai simply proceeds to palm the scalpel, if only so he can form a bridge with his hands and lay his chin atop them.
Celiann :: It’s one thing to read about a ritual and what is expected from it, another thing to experience it for yourself. The pain of the blessed water and dragon blood mixture is intense, the scholar is screaming as the mixture begins to travel down her gullet and into her system. Her throat feels raw, as though acid has been poured down it. Indeed, acid really has been. In most unlady like behaviour, the necromancer screams and spits a glob of hissing blood onto the wall of the icy coffin, fingernails digging into the beautifully crafted ice. If she could scream the word ‘stop’, she probably would, but between screaming and stammering incoherent words, she can’t quite say it. The very flesh of the necromancer has begun to redden and then blacken, then oddly gain colour only to then fade back to pale and grey, as the effects of the potent mixture wreak havoc upon her body. Truly, it is a terrifying sight to behold: a constant fluctuation between undeath, true death and human life. For only a vague moment do the cells of her blood seem human, does her heart beat like any human. A startling thing to be sure.
Satoshi hisses in something like sympathy, although there is nothing gentle in the gestures that follow. With the flick of a wrist and flourish of fingers, Satoshi directs the ice surrounding Celiann to shift, tendrils rising up from the coffin's sides to lash around the little necromancer and pin her to the bottom of the vessel. Cruel it might seem, but Satoshi knows Celiann is in obvious danger of harming herself with thrashing from the agony of the purification. Plus, alongside the ice serving to restrain the necromancer, its direct contact also aids in slowing Celiann's bloodflow. The bite of the toxins is not so fearsome as its coaxed out of a fiery race through her system, although the purge carries on nonetheless. This is Satoshi's role, ensuring her newest covenmate survives being cleansed long enough to be sired once more.
Kasyr cannot help but feel a mingled pang of sympathy and concern for the suffering the necromancer is undergoing, though there is little he can do about it. And so, the revenant pushes himself up into a stand, if only to begin striding towards the necromancers Casket. It's only when he's within it's immediate vicinity that he pauses, takes hold of the scalpel he'd palmed, and slits one of his wrists in a single deft motion. With that done, the Mithril item's casually tossed aside, if only so the revenant can draw himself closer- the bleeding limb close to Celianns mouth, a lingering promise of salvation from the agony currently wracking the necromancers form.
Celiann ’s curling fingers had dug – or attempted to at least – into the finely carved ice coffin given that her arms, legs and tiny little body could do little else under the restraint of Satoshi’s power. Of course, Celiann is in a great amount of distress and she is where she might find most of her power: a crypt. Maybe a change of location should have been done, maybe this should have been foreseen, but even a studious scholar cannot predict what they might do under such pain. A corpse has shuffled behind Satoshi, the classic zombie groan drowned out by Celiann’s deafening screams and wails of pain, preparing to lunge at the kit and tear at her with rabid rotten teeth that were just made for ripping. And while Celiann fades in and out of undeath, the sudden smell of Kasyr’s awaiting blood is enough to make the necromancer reach her head up in desperation and attempt to clamp her chattering mouth around his wrist.
Satoshi's whiskers aren't simply cute decoration--unspeakably cute as they might be, all bias aside. Forged by the unpredictable magicks of the wizard, those silver threads are painfully sensitive to the ebb and flow of the arcane. As such, the magus is recoiling with a snarl at Celiann's magic-laced cries, the sting enough to bring tears to Satoshi's eyes as she tries to sort out the spell being birth--although she hardly has time to worry about that, having stumbled back into the arms of the zombie looming behind her. Her movements serve well enough to close the gap too quickly for the corpse to finish its biting lunge, but does little to get the foxkin back out of its grasp once she's there. After all, Satoshi isn't physically built to combat the unearthly strength of reanimated dead in a straight tussle. Instead, Satoshi allows herself to go limp without warning so that gravity does the work of pulling her to the floor, slipping her out of skeletal arms, and toppling the undead head over rotting heels when its balance and prize are suddenly compromised. A wriggle and a roll later, and Satoshi is scrambling back to her feet even while her unexpected dance partner is still tangled on the floor. It takes a kick to the zombie's decaying rear to roll it against Celiann's coffin, where the ice responds by reaching out with talons to drag the poor creature into a frozen embrace. Satoshi sniffs in annoyance. Let the undead groan and squirm all it likes, the ice won't be releasing anyone until Celiann is on her feet once more.
Kasyr allows his wrist to drift down towards Celianns mouth, his teeth already clenched in preparation for the moment when her teeth shear into his flesh, preventing all but a drawn out hiss to escape from himself. Unpleasent, distracting, and yet hardly enough to cause the revenant to falter, his head lowering down towards her neck so that his own fangs might graze there, waiting a few more moments to see if she might stabilize...or if her condition might falter further.Either of those situations should prove enough to precipitate action from the Kensai, to coax him into biting Celiann, so that the ritual might be properly finished.
Celiann would presumably apologise for that little incident with the corpse, but some things just spin out of control; particularly when in distress. Whether it was her chattering teeth or just the sheer will, the necromancer clamped down onto Kasyr’s wrist to begin drawing what blood she could from him; even as her tiny body continued to rebel against Satoshi’s icy grasp. Whether her writhing was from panic or pain, or even a combination of both, wasn’t entirely clear.
Satoshi takes a brief pause to dust herself off after that short-lived scuffle. Once satisfied, the magus approaches, taking care to give the trapped and protesting zombie a wide berth. Situating herself beside Kasyr, the kit leans over, seemingly to peer at the pair like a curious by-standing. In truth, Satoshi is murmuring a soft tune, a lyrical persuasion to the acidic infusion still lurking in Celiann's body. While necromancer and revenant focus on the delicate art of vampiric siring, Satoshi's attention is honed to draw the mixture of dragon blood and holy water into a singular gathering, lest it continue to scour Celiann's veins and be ingested by Kasyr. Satoshi's intentions, while good, are not likely to be pleasant fo Celiann, for the magus aims then to freeze the concoction into a thin, pointed length, and order it to stab its way up through the vampire's flesh directly below her ribcage. If Satoshi were a back-alley mugger, she'd be dubbed assbackwards in this affair, stabbing someone with a frozen dagger from -inside- their bodies. But it's the quickest--if not gentlest--way to remove the mixture. Especially since holy water has a nasty habit of not obeying the magus' commands, and she can't risk it loitering any longer and getting too rebellious.
Kasyr initial reaction to biting Celiann was effectively -revulsion- given the vile concotion that was working it's way through her body, so he can't help but feel an immense amount of relief when the toxic and altogether unpleasent sensation which accompanied the taste of Celianns blood ebbs away rapidly. ...Though not quite rapidly enough for the revenant to briefly pause, spatter up the brief mouthful of awful, and then resume drinking now that he was aware he wasn't going to need to intentionally imbibe toxins (...Technically anti-toxins). Either way, it's fair to say the process of 'siring' anew is being followed faithfully, the revenant continuing to drink as he listens to Celianns heart- curious as to when it's erratic act of shifting states of 'function' will come to an end.
Celiann ’s robe pressed forward a little like an awkward tent before pushing again to release the icy and blood covered projectile. Her scream was thankfully muffled by Kasyr’s flesh and the scholar’s writhing and general painful squirming seems to have come to a halt as she contentedly leeches Kasyr’s lifeblood. With enough blood withdrawn from her system and enough blood put back into it, her heart begins to slow at a steady pace before wavering off into stillness once again; along with the necromancer.
Satoshi gingerly plucks the icy dagger away from the whole messy affair, to be set aside where it cannot bother the trio of undead. She'll deal with the abomination later. For now, the magus returns to Kasyr's side, delivering a wordless nudge to his shoulder before once more departing. The light scuff of boots on stones announces Satoshi's ascent up the crypt stairs, off on unknown purposes--at least to Celiann, for the nudge given to Kasyr come with an unspoken explanation passed between themselves. She's retrieving sustenance for the pair of them, knowing hunger will be fairly rampant by the time the process is complete.
Kasyr draws back from Celiann once she grows still, drawing his hand from her mouth once her bodys grown limp. That said, the revenant does not stray far, simply choosing to sit back and observe the necomancer now, and see what comes of her experiment. Whether the ritual worked or not, and how her body would react to his blood winding it's corruption through her form were both matters of great interest to the Kensai. Especially in this case, as Celiann had already been altered by vampirism once before...and now was being influenced by a particular strain of the 'disease'.
Celiann remained still. Perhaps the ritual hadn’t worked, perhaps the ingredients were too potent or the timing was all wrong? Hard to say what it might have been. But alas, the trio needn’t worry as the little necromancer gasps into unlife and looks at Kasyr wildly; as if she were brand new into the curse and feeling the hunger for the first time, that sharp stabbing wrench in the gut that told her to feed. After a few moments, the scholar grinned – albeit meekly – “I… am… v-v-very… clever.”
Satoshi would have had all sorts of teasing remarks to say had she been present to hear Celiann's declaration. But alas, the magus is a few moments too late, returning now from her venture upstairs. Across her arms she bears a wooden tray heavily laden with an assortment of vampire-friendly foods: a haunch of some hooved animal, uncooked steak, mugs of pure blood, a bottle of elven blood wine, and even a small basket that quivers and squeaks with the promise of live snacks within. The arrangment is presented with all the dramatic flair Satoshi can muster before she sets it upon the casket Kasyr sat upon earlier. "Thought you might be hungry, little sister," Satoshi offers to Celiann by way of greeting her back into unlife.
Kasyr stares long and hard, before a faint hint of a grin creeps across his features- coaxed into existance by Celianns return to the world of the 'waking', if not living. "Et given you actually survived the experience, it means tu can make all the notes tu want about the process. ...Though, J'imagine that had Satoshi not pulled that vile concoction out from tu, you likely would not survived the process...and I'd not be all that hale or hearty after feeding." And it's on that note his wife arrives, which spurs the simple comment of, "Et speaking therein, Je vous remercie- rather, I'm ever so grateful, mon amour." Which is to say, the revenant is going to sidle over and pilfer one of those mugs of blood now. From there, he'll just sip at it gratefully, while he fumbles around for one of his many spare scalpels. Clearly, he's got his eyes on that quivering basket.
Celiann would absolutely love to get tucked into that tray of delights, but she is still restrained by the icy coffin that Satoshi has created. Though she says nothing about her restraints, she does offer Satoshi a broad grin, “I th-th-think y-y-you are the f-f-first sister I’ve h-had,” considering House Ginavi was run by a woman and then only had Celiann, she had only a ‘mother’ figure and not a sister one. “N-Notes, y-y-yes. But I w-w-was alive,” she said seriously, “d-d-didn’t y-you feel it?”
Satoshi might have forgotten about her arcane restraints, but the absentminded way she dispels them and frees Celiann suggests the matter is a mere afterthought and not a mishap. At Kasyr's pointed glance, the magus scoots the basket closer to him, followed by a lopsided smirk. She'd specifically brought that part of the meal for him. "I hadn't quite noticed," she admits to Celiann, a mug extended out toward the necromancer, "I was, at the moment, a tad preoccupied with one of your beasties trying to chew on me." A jerk of her chin indicates the zombie still pinned down by icy shackles, a limb or two having broken off in its struggles.
Kasyr smirks just a touch, "Oui, I felt the ebbing flutter of your heart, though- I'm not sure how long you would have stayed that way without that concotion being pulled out of you. Dragons blood has a tendancy to be fatal to the living, as well. You'd just have died of traditional poisoning, instead of the more painful sort." The revenant pauses for a moment, before casually stating, "Which makes moi wonder a bit over the origin of the rite. Well, between that, et it's ingrediants. Would seem the sort of thing that might have intially been used by the church- feed a vampire that...ensure they pass onto the next life as a human, if they can't purge the poison." ...Leave it to vampires to repurpose it. That thought aside, the revenant finally draws a scalpel out from his other sleeve, if only to open to basket and hastily jab something- an action which produces a high pitched squeak and squelching noise, alongside a frenzied number of squeaks accompanying it. Which, makes sense given the revenant removes a skewered mouse from the contents of the basket, and begins to munch on it.
Celiann was obviously hungry and ready to chow down on some mice and mugs of blood when she saw the remains of the reanimated manservant with a shocked gasp of horror! “-That- c-c-c-c-corpse was Braddelby the th-th-third! A p-p-potent s-s-sorcerer,” she informed Satoshi duly, evidently shocked at what condition he was in. “Nevertheless… I w-w-will put him b-b-back together.” Don’t come between a necromancer and a corpse.
Satoshi reduces the number of frenzied squeaks by one, as its owner decides to attempt a jailbreak while Kasyr is plucking its skewered companion out of the basket. With all the lethal speed of a cat, the magus halts the rodent's short-lived escape and promptly ensures its premanent disappearance (save for half its tail dangling out of the corner of her mouth). Somehow, this doesn't manage to detract from the kit's poised grace when she responds to Celiann, "I don't care if he was Xalious' second cousin or Aramoth's secret mistress. Try to take a bite out of me," There's an unpleasant crunch from the unlucky mouse here, "I'll break you into pieces. He's lucky I only gave his tail a swift kick and left him to the ice, what with your whole ordeal preoccupying my attentions."
Kasyr , with a mouse tail still sticking out of his mouth, can't help but note, "Wouldn't something like Chompers, ou like...Mr nibbles, ou quoi-ce-soit make for a better pet name? ...Unless that was his actual name." Whilst contemplating this possibility (and finally slurping in the tail), the revenant skewers yet another mouse, stuffing it into his mouth without further preamble- before then proceeding to fumble around the baskets contents with his hand. A few moments later, he has a panicking squeaking mess captured- the likes of which he then simply drags over to his pack and drops inside.
Celiann answered Kasyr with a dignified, “It w-w-w-was his n-n-name,” before clicking her finger at one mouse. The poor mouse. Its little leg snapped from what seemed to be a hex, making it an easy target as the necromancer lifted it and stuffed it into her mouth in as dignified a manner as possible.
Satoshi peers into the basket long enough to determine that she should have brought more mice--especially since she abducts two more in the process. Rodents, the popcorn of vampires. It's sometime between this thought and the retrieval of more mice by Kasyr and Celiann, that one might realize the magus has left. In proper Satoshi fashion when in the company of Coterie, she's bid no farewells or made any excuses. She's simply departed, assured in her mind that she'll be back sooner or later. Vulpine Satoshi may be, but not all her cattish habits of old have abandoned her yet.
Kasyr casually makes a grab at the bottle of blood wine, before popping the cork and pouring a fair amount into the glass that had formerly contained fresh blood. "Well. ..Anyways. ...Is there anything else tu need in the moment, or?" Really there's not alot for the revenant to say at this point, so, lacking anything further, he's just going to contently munch on things. Nom nom nom.
Celiann ’s words are muffled as she snatches up the last mouse and crams it into her mouth, “Food,” was her only reply. Obviously, she was ravenous!