[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/mDCIPXxm.jpg[/img]
[h2]Kasper Mirandola[/h2]
･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ✧*[/center]

Kasper had been unusually reserved during the ball. Normally a champion of formal dance, he just hadn't been in the mood that night. He was preoccupied instead with a bout of abstraction. Sitting with his templar at a table off to the side, he had watched the quiet events of the evening. The setting was posh, but its happenings were improvised - and full of little indecencies. The noblewoman Caralynn berating a servant for her own mistake; one of the guests of honor greedily putting down plate after plate of food; the grumpy young prince excusing himself early, and then returning only to run to the washroom together with his templar; all these things breathed undeniable life into the exquisite surroundings.

Kasper occasionally scribbled into a leather bound journal with his fountain pen. He was recording these little things - stretching them and composing them into verse. He always loved to pry into the nobility in his works, probably in part due to his extensive exposure to them. Surely this scene would be useful to him some day. He was forming the lines into a little poem - or at least, he was trying to. But it was hard to keep his focus. 

[i]'In the tapestry of history, the Scions of the past were like a radiant dawn and brought light into the darkest corners.'[/i] The words of the High Cardinal echoed in his mind, eliciting a sigh from him. It was an acceptably pretty thing to say in the moment, but one of the scions had always been a bringer of darkness. And then there was that business with the sparkling water... really it was a trifle of a magic trick for such a momentous occasion. Why did that woman always seem to get under his skin?

[b][color=aeb5bf]"Feeling okay, your Holiness?"[/color][/b] A servant asked, offering a glass of champagne from his trencher. Kasper simply nodded and was about to send the man away, when he thought better of it and accepted the drink. It was his second of the night, but a little alcohol could help soothe his annoyance.

--

A bit later, the entire atmosphere changed when the manor fell under attack. An acute mage, Kasper had taken notice when the servant whose misfortune he had blithely observed earlier suddenly started casting a large scale spell. [i]That[/i] was far outside of the norm, and it had him on his guard. But he was still thoroughly surprised when armed soldiers started bursting through the windows. Kasper's adrenaline helped him focus up as he took stock of the situation. He quickly put away his journal and spoke to his friend in a low voice. [b]"Stay low, Zacharie, and regroup with the others."[/b] Then he crept off in the darkness, moving into the fray rather than away from it.

Casting the ballroom into darkness was a good plan for disrupting everyone else, but for Kasper - it was a comfort. This was [i]his[/i] domain. In shadowy conditions like these, he was practically undetectable. His sigil exploded into life as he allowed himself use of the great power that convention forbid him. It did not grow brightly like the others, however. It was inky dark upon his skin, growing in prominence. With a little effort, he could detect everything in the shadows nearby. And he wrapped himself in the darkness as with a cloak. The intruders were armored men with glowing eyes - night vision, perhaps? He thought he had heard of that sort of technology existing. But even with such implements, Kasper would be hard to notice. He was accustomed to sneaking about, and his feet didn't even make a sound as he moved. One of the men was already perilously nearby, however. The Scion subtly weaved shadow over those glowing eyes, just in case, and he moved past the man, as unseen as a ghost. A few seconds later, several black, tentacle-like constructs pierced through the soldier's chest from behind. With a gesture from their master, they quickly ripped their way outwards in different directions, tearing the assailant apart. Kasper was flecked with his blood, even at this distance.

Kasper noticed Maya and Edmund were on the ceiling, fighting off intruders in their own way. The girl he'd admired earlier was wrapped in a cape, screaming obscenities and scrambling around. There was an undeniable amusement in the sight for him, notwithstanding the seriousness of the situation. He considered going up there to help her, but hiding on the roof with her templar at her side was probably a reasonably safe place to be compared to the chaos down here. He'd keep an eye on them, though. He knew he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if Maya ended up wounded or worse because of his inaction. The white-haired youth identified one of the gunmen shooting up at her and quickly approached - giving that soldier the same gory treatment as the first.

Another moment later, he came upon Dominika, the Scion of Metal. She had been struggling with an armored woman, but ultimately ended her gruesomely. Another two were approaching her, however, and one had scored a hit and sent her tumbling. Deciding to step in, Kasper summoned another construct - this time it was a large, clawed hand - black as jet. With a crackle of mana and a flick of his wrist, the hand slammed into Dom's assailant and sent him flying across the room, where he loudly crashed into the far wall.

[b]"Are you okay? Can you stand?"[/b] Kasper asked, but he couldn't afford to look down at Dom. The other soldier was still very near. And now the light from the chandeliers and from Rosemary's orb flicked over him, revealing his thin frame and his fancy white attire. For the first time since the attack, he was really exposed.

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[@Abstract Proxy] [@Obscene Symphony]