[center][color=c0c0c0][b][u]Slayer[/u][/b][/color]
Level 3
Day 2
Location: Tetris Castle Grounds
[@DracoLunaris] 
[b]Experience: [color=orange]|||||||||||||||||||||||||||[/color][color=black]|||[/color] (27/30)[/b][/center]

Naija's apology evoked a subtle expression of gladness from her conversational partner.  While Slayer's methods of nudging younger generations into embracing proper manners most often fell short, this unusual individual seemed to catch on to what he'd been hinting at.  She was not, the vampire was gratified to understand, dense in the way so many would-be heroes were.  Too often he'd found that righteousness became a platform on which to elevate oneself, and not an elusive, all-abiding goal that anyone professing to be noble of intention should work toward.  Now, however, he and Naija hovered eye-to-eye, and he listened with muted astonishment as she admitted to never having met a gentleman before.  What misfortune!  He could sympathize with her feeling of being overwhelmed by all this newness, however.  Forget monsters and mayhem: sudden change was what harangued the soul most critically, especially for an old soul like his.  With one elbow perched upon the armrest of his cape-chair, and its fist rested against his cheek, he absorbed her story.

In particular, the description of her abilities, unrequested but helpfully offered nonetheless, caught his attention.  She spoke of all these forms in a casual manner, as if they were her innate forms, but until now she hadn't shown off any of them.  Slayer perceived that she -and by extension all the heroes- must be under the influence of some sort of limitation in the same manner he'd believed only himself to be.  Ever since his fond farewell to Sharon and the abrupt teleportation from the world he'd left behind, he'd felt a sort of cloud lingering in the back of his mind.  It didn't interfere with his mental faculties as far as he could tell, but when he thought of several of his pugilistic techniques, their performance seemed somehow beyond his grasp.  It was a puzzling and perturbing problem, given his worryingly decreased durability, but not one a dandy should obsess over.  Slayer did withdraw from his inner musings enough to chuckle when Naija mentioned flying.  [color=c0c0c0]”Not so much, I'm afraid.  My mantle is useful, to be sure, but this shape is so slow and fickle that it's of no use in combat, save to spare me the effort of crouching.”[/color]

His lighthearted tone wavered ever so slightly when his acquaintance asked why he didn't consider himself a hero, for he felt that it might warrant a serious response.  Then again, it wasn't a terribly serious matter.  If it was, he would have minded sharing it with a stranger.  [color=c0c0c0]”My position is somewhat difficult to articulate.  I suppose that I am an entity outside of my world; its trials and tribulations do not concern me.  Even as the real heroes went about their business trying to resolve its ills and improve things for themselves and normal people, I barely lifted a finger.  I did enjoy giving guidance to the heroes when they needed it, helping them out of tough spots and invigorating their resolve when it was shaken.  All in all, I suppose my role would be more befitting of a connoisseur—looking around and taking in what life has to offer, but not involving myself in conflicts.  I am an old man, after all, in a young man's world.  It wasn't my world to change.”[/color]

There!  Sometimes Slayer surprised himself with how elegantly he could wax poetic.  Such a response surely satisfied Naija's curiosity, and with any luck she would not feel the need to inquire [i]why[/i] his world's events didn't concern him.  If she asked, of course, he could lie, but untruths besmirched a gentleman's lips.  To change the subject, he glanced around for material, but nothing much had changed since his last scan.