[center][h3][color=00a99d]Serafina Lewison[/color][/h3]
[b][u]Location;[/u][/b] Unknown
[b][u]Interacting With;[/u][/b] Mysterious kidnapper[/center][hr][hr]

[color=00a99d][i]Oww, my head.[/i][/color]  Chloroform was never a pleasant thing to experience; unfortunately, Serafina had a bit of experience with it.  She hadn't been kidnapped that often, but it had happened before, usually by business rivals of her father.  What with the recent happenings at the Academy, she wasn't sure why she had been taken, or by who, but it couldn't be good.  Kidnapping never was.  This time was no different.

Keeping her eyes closed, she attempted to work out her surroundings.  She was seated, hands tied to the sides of a chair, legs free.  There wasn't anyone nearby that she could hear, so Serafina risked opening her eyes.  [color=00a99d][i]Where is this...?  It looks like a dungeon.[/i][/color]  Indeed, the walls were roughly-hewn stone, and a single torch was the only source of light.  There was no door before her, nor to the side, so she guessed that there was a door behind her; a suspicion that was confirmed when she heard the creak of aged hinges.

[color=crimson]"Miss Lewison.  You are awake at last."[/color]  The voice was masculine, accented, cultured... and familiar.  [color=crimson]"Good.  I was beginning to fear that my men had been incautious in procuring you.  I assure you, they would have been thoroughly punished, if that was so."[/color]  A chuckle.  [color=crimson]"And that would have been a shame, eh, Miss Lewison?"[/color]  The man moved just barely into her peripheral vision.  [color=crimson]"After all, such a delicate flower must be handled carefully."[/color]

[color=00a99d]"I am no flower."[/color]  Serafina frowned, refusing to look at the man.  [color=crimson]"No?  Perhaps songbird would fit better.  Small, beautiful... and [i]fragile.[/i]"[/color]  On that last word, he moved in front of her, fingers under her chin, forcing her eyes to meet his.  [color=crimson]"So very fragile.  I'd hate to have to clip your wings, pretty bird."[/color]

[color=00a99d]"Moreau."[/color]  The demigoddess met her captor's eyes fearlessly.  [color=00a99d]"I should have known."[/color]  Jonathon Moreau, her father's foremost rival, son of the infamous Damian Moreau.  Completely ruthless, cunning, and untouchable; with several high-ranking police officers in his pocket, any investigations on him were shut down before they were even started.  [color=00a99d]"What do you want?"[/color]

[color=crimson]"What do I want?"[/color]  Moreau grinned, menacing, like a shark.  [color=crimson]"Simple.  I want your father's cooperation.  And what better way to get it than through you, pretty bird?"[/color]  He raised one hand, trailed his fingers lightly along her cheek.  Serafina jerked away from him as though his hands were on fire.

[color=00a99d]"Your touch is poison."[/color]  She said coldly.  [color=00a99d]"Stay away from me."[/color]  Moreau took a step back, still grinning.  [color=crimson]"Very well, Miss Lewison.  I will return."[/color]  He walked around her, and she heard the hinges creak again, but could not ensure that he had departed.  The cell returned to silence.

Then the silence was broken by the sound of a girl trying not to cry.