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What idiotic trick was Ryner pulling with this stunt? Varis stood stiffly with his arms at his side, hands clenched as he listened to the boy’s description of their predicament. Like a ghost? Varis scowled at the comparison. Fantastic. This was exactly what he needed. Blind and without a physical tether to the world around him. Although, perhaps that didn’t matter as much as it should have since Ryner’s little [i]game[/i] removed him from said world. Varis didn’t know how or care to understand. He just wanted out. The sooner, the better in fact. And he was going to vocalize his displeasure with the turn of events when the next words the boy uttered forced him back a step, mouth agape at the audacity of his suggestion. 

[color=f7976a]“Pardon me?!”[/color] Varis demanded. [color=f7976a]“You want me, the heir to the Sinnenodel family and the progeny of the third eldest Sinnenodel bloodline, to dig in the dirt like some, some, [i]mage[/i]?”[/color] Varis’ following laugh was sharp with disbelief and anger. The idea was ludicrous. Absolutely not. Varis would rather walk into the sun than lower himself to that level. He wasn’t some filthy human, some brain damaged mage. He was one of the most influential vampires in existence. He hadn’t been handed this shit on a platter. He worked and sweated and killed for his position. He deserved respect, not… not whatever this [i]ludacris[/i] task was. Varis audiably ground his fangs together. [color=f7976a]“If that slovenly, horse faced, degenerate you worship thinks I’ll consider that for even a second, she…”[/color] Varis stopped as something clicked in his head.

If even half of what the boy spewed was true, whatever spell or spells were employed were incredibly powerful. Too powerful for even Ryner to safely attempt to use enchanted items with students around. So solving the riddle must have alerted the mages to cast their spells otherwise nothing would have happened. Which meant she was watching. Waiting. 

Waiting for him to lose.

Varis’ eye twitched. He whirled around, the feeling of eyes crawling over his skin, and he snarled, bearing his fangs at whoever was watching. He couldn’t let her win this. He spewed every curse at her he knew, in any language he came across, as he fought himself. She managed to turn his pride against himself and now he had to choose: lose because he wouldn’t get his hands dirty or lose because he did. He felt his fangs pierce his lip as he chewed on it. He mentally prepared himself, his whole body tense as he braced himself for words he never imagined saying.

[color=f7976a] “Where’s the shovel?”[/color]


[sub][right]Interacting with: [@Obscene Symphony][/right][/sub]