[color=00a99d][b]Prof. Sosthenes Antaeoi Kanakaris[/b][/color]
Mizushima Household, 2:06AM
Interacting with: [@Eklispe] Cu Chulainn, [@Turboshitter] Ren Mizushima, [@1Charak2] Medusa
[hr]
It was Sosthenes' understanding that the appropriate reaction to this turn of events was "s", "m", and "h" in respective succession. While he did not know what this acronym stood for, he understood the meaning behind it roughly. It was disappointment, it was consternation, it was that disgruntled sense of having witnessed something that was cause for an exasperated shake of the head. Four years since he had stepped foot in this town, four years since he had taken the formless, anxious mass of clay that was this boy and molded him into a work of art: a finely adjusted first-generation denizen of the moonlit world.

Or at least that was what the professor had thought. Clearly those lessons on how things operated on the other side were lost on the boy. Standard protocol of both this war and that of supernatural culture in general dictated that she be killed as a witness. Quite distasteful on multiple degrees, that unruly would have been, but hypnosis could wear off with time and memory manipulation was equally fallible. So then, had he been as unfair as his apprentice made him out to be?

[color=00a99d]"Very well,"[/color] the professor sighed defeated, raising both hands in defeat, before refastening his brooch to his chest and straightening up. [color=00a99d]“As it is your family and your household, I will defer to your judgment on these such topics. Such is the ancient way of xeni-”[/color] Sosthenes was promptly cut off by the sound of a heel being purposefully driven into his fine-tailored shoe. Clenching teeth to stifle surges of pain, the professor lifted his foot off the ground and balanced on the other with little difficulty as a result of his physical conditioning. He grunted. [color=00a99d]“Kuh... [i]Quaint[/i]. I believe the common expression is… [i]What the actual fuck, lady[/i]? ”[/color]

A shadow crossed his vision, and a familiar voice was heard.

[color=00a99d]“Ah... [i]Yes[/i]. Apt assessment my speart[i]oww[/i]ting friend. He does [i]not[/i] need any… pro[i]tection[/i]. Except perhaps a box of [i]con[/i]doms.” [/color]Fortunately, Lancer arrived in due time, a fine deterrent should this heinous spirit attempt to start an incident, allowing him to gently lower himself to the floor. He sat on the carpet, stripping his shoe and sock off his crippled appendage. Underneath was a finely punctured hole surrounded by shattered bones. It was quite a unsightly image, already swelling and bleeding and all that nastiness. Of course, what did you expect from damage 40x that of a normal human?

No matter. He could strive past the pain. A magus walks with death, a magus [i]endures[/i]. A seasoned enforcer even moreso. His circuits activated, cycling refining prana to facilitate the repair of his body. He was still seated, but one could see the glowing flesh and bone knitting itself back together like a grotesque timelapse photo, complete with an accompaniment of squelching and cracking. Basics of the basics, this healing was, but there [i]was[/i] a clear reason it was basic. 

Sosthenes leaned back and fished a cig from his pocket, allowing it to simply rest inert  in his mouth. [color=00a99d]“At least this Rider seem to be a reliable sort,”[/color] he commented, planting his palms on the ground, the part free from glass shards,  to hold himself up, [color=00a99d]“You [i]do[/i] certainly know how to pick them, my boy. I see that stat line. Do any of you two care to explain to the class how this development came to be? Also my Servant and I are quite famished, so if there’s any possibility that we could resolve that, it would be of great benefit. Right Lancer?”[/color]