Scene #1582: Interview with the Vampire Lord

Owner	Pose
Dracula Vlad Tepes	Dracula is someone who is approached for many things. Favors, gifts, knowledge, requests for servitude, attempts to end his existence...but something so casual as an interview is new. Most assume that they know enough about the man dubbed the Lord of Darkness to handle themselves around him, or that they can fill in the blanks; requests to find out more aren't something he really gets. So, when Ainsley contacts him for an interview, he's at once skeptical and curious. There could be any number of reasons a Union member would want to interview him, and his tactical mind flies through them in quick detail. However, at the same time, there's some interest in the opportunity to settle into the spotlight for a little while, and as theatrical as Lord Dracula tends to be, he eventually decides it's an opportunity that could be worth his while. The request is accepted, and an invitation sent for the Marble Gallery in Castlevania itself. Here, in the vast halls of marble lined with columns and bizarrely lifelike statues of things both human and otherwise, Dracula has set up a small meeting point. A coffee table of expensive and finely carved wood sits in the middle of the tiled floor, placed in just the right spot for the full moon's light to shine down on it from the window nearby. Fine black tea has been arranged on the table's surface, and at one end is a small, simple wooden chair. It's obviously for Ainsley, considering the other chair is a far more ornate piece of work and notably larger, clawed feet grasping to the floor and talons curving over the armrests. Dracula himself sits here already, his looming form made no less impressive just due to sitting. One leg lies crossed over the other, one fist is curled up as a perch for his chin, and his other hand idly drums sharp fingernails along the chair's arm. Burning eyes narrowed in silent contemplation, Dracula waits for his visitor to arrive. At least Ainsley won't have to find the place herself. A skeletal butler stands ready at the entrance of the living castle, waiting for her arrival before offering a low bow of greeting and leading her through the ornate halls to the Marble Gallery, where Dracula awaits.
Ainsley	Ainsley doesn't have any aggressive ulterior motive to this... as she did with Elliana Fairchild, she fully intends to simply reach a deeper understanding of her enemy, not in a tactical sense, but an empathetic sense. That is, after all, what she is most curious about in other people: How they feel. Ainsley nervously stands outside the castle but for a very short time. She receives a bow from the butler, which she replies to with a silent curtsey and a smile, not wanting to be impolite. She follows along at an identical pace, though she does hover off the ground a little as she goes. Her hands remain clasped in front of her, and her tail trails out behind her weightlessly like a long ribbon, despite how strong the appendage seems to be. When she reaches the chair, she first gives another curtsey, this time to the Lord of Darkness himself, showing her friendly and gentle smile. Then she slips into her seat, draping her tail over her waist and settling. She is a tall creature, though not nearly as imposing as Dracula is. She pulls her notepad out before she even speaks, and sets it down on the table. "Thank you for agreeing to this meeting. I know how dangerous this would feel." She smiles more warmly at him. "Is there a preferred way to address you, or should I call you 'Dracula'?" she wonders, to start the interview off.
Dracula Vlad Tepes	The butler doesn't seem to care, unfortunately, about any sort of formalities. It's questionable if the skeleton cares about much of anything, really, aside from what it's supposed to do. It leads Ainsley into the Gallery, drops her off with another bow, then rattles off to do who knows what elsewhere. Dracula lifts his head from its perch when he hears Ainsley's arrival. The stare he fixes on her isn't really warm, or pleasant; she may be a guest, but he is still fully aware that he is a dragon in his own lair, and he sizes her up with all the burning, predatory pride of his namesake. At least he gives a nod of greeting in return. "I don't think I'm really the one who has to worry about a dangerous situation right now," he replies, briefly flashing a fanged grin of vicious amusement as his hands fold in his lap. He leaves that at that, however, straightening up slightly in his seat and continuing to stare at her from where he sits. His tone is serious, firm; there's little about this that he finds casual, and he seems ready to address it as formally as he chooses. "Awfully familiar, isn't it, just 'Dracula'? You will call me Field Marshal. Or /Lord/ Dracula, if you prefer. I understand this may not be the most professional of interviews, but let's not get too familiar. I have my station for a reason, after all." Proud, isn't he? One hand lifts in an idle, sweeping gesture over the table. "Have some tea, if you wish. Otherwise, I am prepared for whatever questions you may ask of me. Though, of course, I will answer as I see fit. I'm not about to give my enemies something to use against me."
Ainsley	Ainsley maintains her smile, though it only falters a little at the harsh fact that she's in a place where she could die if she's not very careful about it. She doesn't worry about that overly much, patiently listening to him with her warm smile that... of all the people in the Multiverse, he would know is an effort to show friendliness to what she is quite aware is someone that is a mortal enemy. Somehow genuine, yet forced. She isn't a master of stoicism, his menace does scare her, though not nearly as much as a common villager. "That is true. Your castle is notoriously dangerous." Ainsley's neutrality flows into her face when he expresses that he won't answer anything that could endanger him. "Of course, I have no intention of making this about the war, Lord Dracula." Her honesty could not be more pure. "As with my chat with Lady Fairchild, we will be the only ones who will know the details of our chat." With that handled, she leans forward and begins to prepare some tea for herself. She has an excessive preference for sugar, it seems, and she doesn't think he'd poison her on such a simple meeting. She sips the tea, holding the cup with one hand and the saucer below it with her other. "Do you enjoy your station as the Field Marshal of the Confederacy?"
Dracula Vlad Tepes	The tea certainly isn't poisoned. It's excellent quality, in fact, as would be expected from someone of such wealthy indulgence as Dracula. For all his darkness and draconic menace, he's still a nobleman at heart. Whatever's left of it, at least. He paitently waits for Ainsley to finish preparing that tea, idly drumming his sharp fingernails against the back of one hand as he sits in silence. Through the nearby window, the moon is briefly blocked out by the looming shape of a giant, floating eyeball curiously glaring through the glass, but it floats off after a few swiveling moments to leave its master to his business. Ainsley doesn't have to wait long for his answer when she questions him. "Do I /enjoy/ it? I would say that hardly matters, so long as I do what's needed. But..." He shrugs. "To answer your question /properly/, yes. For the most part, at least. It's really not much different from what I do here," he replies, lifting a hand to offer a half-dismissive flourish to the surrounding empty halls. "A thousand fiends and horrors, demons and undead, the dedicated and the insane, all under my purview and my oversight. A thousand pieces to manage, to observe, to move. Not /pawns/ however, no; each piece is far too particular to be grouped with all the others. But organizing it all comes as easily to me as breathing does to the living, whether it is Castlevania or the Confederacy."
Ainsley	The patience between the two of them is likely one of their few common grounds. Ainsley doesn't seem to be any real rush in this talk, wanting it to feel natural... in a way, that effort seems deliberate, too, the very careful way she goes about all of her movements, as if wary that she'll be misunderstood at any second. It's a wonder she isn't having a panic attack. "A job you are naturally suited to, then. Few can find a place they belong, fewer still find a place as a leader. I respect that." Like her, the eternally aimless creature. In a way, it seems to please her to find another creature who has found its place in the Multiverse. She takes another sip of her tea, looking out the window that the eyeball had been peeking through. She didn't notice its presence, so she's looking at the moon, clueless about whatever that was. "A hypothetical: If given the chance to end the war peacefully, would you take it?" she asks him, looking him in the eyes now, though she lacks all of the power and menace he has, her curiosity is piercing like a dagger.
Dracula Vlad Tepes	That fanged smirk returns again, pointed canines gleaming in the light of the moon. "I thought we weren't making this about the war," he remarks coolly. He's clearly not upset by the questions so far; it's more an idle comment, prodding at the person he speaks with, no doubt a method of asserting his own cleverness. He knows what a quick thinker he is, and he wants to make sure everyone /else/ knows, too. That smirk fades away quickly, replaced by a more serious, contemplative expression. He doesn't flinch away from Ainsley's gaze at all, evenly returning his own dragon's stare as if they were in a competition of who might look away first. "An interesting question, though, I admit. One I simply can't answer; far too many things to consider, after all." His arms spread, lazily draping over the chair's armrests. "Which option would end the conflict for the longest period of time? Which would leave the Confederacy in a better position? What are the long-term effects, the short-term effects, the efforts required for both, the chances of peaceful cohabitation should the Union concede...and, of course, when would the next war come, and from who? I doubt there will ever not be /some/ war. Human history has proven that much." He sighs, then, like a teacher struggling to explain to a student. His hands settle back into his lap, and he ponders the question for a nother moment. "But such considerations are far above the common man, and I doubt that's the intention behind your question. I suppose, given the incredibly unlikely possiblity that ending the war peacefully and violently would be proven to produce the exact same results, then I would ask among the Confederates themselves what they may prefer, and consider my course of action from that."
Ainsley	Ainsley smiles knowingly at his initial reply to her question. She seems amused by his prodding, the friendly response she has to him accented by some red in her face, embarrassed when he points that out. She shrugs at him, but doesn't apologize or retract her question. It was an honest inquiry, after all. She soaks up his words, though, when he speaks, giving more of an answer than she was expecting. In a way, it tells her plenty about how intelligent he is, and how he approaches problems. She lids her eyes, musing over his perspective on the question and the conclusion he reaches with it. He addresses how unlikely it is, but doesn't belittle the thought... and that puts the warmth back on her face. "Ahh," she holds up an index finger, "The question was still about you, even if it touched on the war." That clarified, she sips her tea again, finishing off her cup and setting it, and the saucer, down on the table to pour another. She can't pass up the opportunity to enjoy this, after all, not after he's prepared it for her. "What do you think of the Multiverse as a whole?" she wonders, as she's getting her second cup. She seems to have grown comfortable talking to him. Once she got past the intimidation of the castle and his personality, it was natural to speak to him. The cleverness helped this a lot, he would've been able to see some of the tension fade away when he displayed that part of him so proudly.
Dracula Vlad Tepes	If Dracula does notice the fading tension, he doesn't seem to remark on it at all. His own posture and demeanor remain about the same, only shifting when he feels the need to do so himself. It's clear that he has enough formal teaching to know how to keep himself around others, and to maintain basic courtesies such as the preparation of tea, but he really doesn't seem to be one intent on changing how he acts for the sake of someone else. Her clarification is met with an idle, dismissive shrug of his shoulders before he begins considering her next question. Finally, his piercing stare shifts away from her to instead pass through the nearby window, gazing out on the bleak courtyard beyond. "The Multiverse is a place of great fortune and opportunity, but also of danger in similar measure. Both are to be considered, weighed against one another to grant insight into the best path of approach. It is, in essence, not much different from a single world, merely expanded to infinite dimensions, with infinite possibilities. The coward who would huddle in his own corner of it is no different from one who would refuse to pierce through the boundaries of his village, and is, in turn, deserving of a similar fate." He looks back to Ainsley, then, eyes of embers narrowed in thought. "I have found both the greatest opportunities I could have desired, and greater threats than I previously expected. It's an opportunity, like any other."
Ainsley	Ainsley clearly doesn't have the same level of training. Although she can maintain a cool and calm affect, with a bit of a smile, she is constantly giving small cues to how his words make her feel. Her eyes follow where his go, toward the courtyard, and then back to him when he begins to answer the question. She nods in understanding of his words. She finally picks up her notepad, and begins scribbling down notes on it with a ballpoint pen. She hums to herself as she does this, and flips the notepad closed, stuffing it away in her pocket. She takes a sip of her second cup of tea before she even speaks up again. Still as deliberate as before, unintentionally giving her a look of measured thought. "I can see why you are the Field Marshal, now, Lord Dracula. This has been insightful, and I am glad you felt open to talking as much as you have." She sips her tea and then nods at him, "If you have any questions for me, in return, I am open to them." Just as she had done with Elliana Fairchild, the table is left open for him to ask something of her. Her eyes close, clearly not really expecting him to ask anything of her, so she sips at her tea and manages a peaceful air, despite all of the things about this place that unsettle her. Her posture almost seems confident, though not quite, thanks to how stiff she is.
Dracula Vlad Tepes	Dracula waits, quiet and contemplative as Ainsley writes and drinks. His fingers drum along the back of his hand, and soon enough, the silence is broken once again. "I believe you'll continue to see reasons why that's the case," Dracula replies with a light, fanged smirk. "There weren't any questions that were prodding, in any case. A rather simple investigation. But your gratitude is appreciated, and you have conducted yourself well as my guest in the meantime." His head tilts slightly to the side as he considers her for a moment longer. "...no, I believe I will let you go unquestioned for the evening," he finally remarks with a nod. He stands, then, giving his robes a brief toss once he rises to his feet to send them billowing out to the sides before they settle again. His arm bends in front of his waist, and while the bow he gives her isn't low, it's at least courteous. "A pleasure to have your visit. If that is all for the evening, then I shall return to my own matters, and you may depart freely once more."
Ainsley	Ainsley opens her eyes, nodding at him when he decides that the interview is over. She finishes off her tea before she stands up -- she wouldn't dare waste that cup!! -- and gives him an equally courteous curtsey, flashing a bright smile to him. "Thank you for your time, Field Marshal. That will be all." With that confirmed, she looks over her shoulder, briefly expecting the skeleton butler. With or without it to see her out, though... Ainsley leaves, humming a cheerful little song to herself.