Very nervously voice-testing Isaac.

[relictusdeus]

A mere woman hopes to contain me~, a devil forgemaster, within the confines of her headspace?

[His amusement evaporates, his cool smile transforming into a snarl.]

Fool...! Stay out of my way and I may let you live, even though you are but a waste of flesh.

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[relictusdeus]

[He crosses his legs, a cool, delighted smile playing his lips.]

Oh, but it is~.

[A woman. Condescension shoots up to 11. He looks her over with disinterest, although he has to admit that it does his heart good to see someone react so strongly to his presence. This is a face he doesn't recognize, alas, although the more he looks, the more she reminds him of that arrogant, broody whelp, Alucard. The traitorous son of his Lord Dracula, he mused grimly.

Ah, but he would never leave his dear master. No - he would continue be a better servant than Hector ever was, and Dracula would one day properly recognize his fierce devotion.]

[sanctuarysoul]

[For a short while, she seems bewildered and distraught; lost in her thoughts. She knew what her husband was when they married and she knew how vengeful he could be if he was crossed, but this...this was unprecedented.

When Isaac speaks, her gaze turns toward him. Confusion continues to reside in her expression as she speaks.]

You...you're lying.

[The moment the words leave her, she finds an unparalleled conviction. As her consciousness becomes saturated with the idea that the person she loved so wholly could be so destructive, she finds herself shaking. The expression in her eyes has shifted seamlessly from confusion to outrage and anger.]

You're lying!!

[Her voice raises in volume, a faint inkling of moisture lining her eyes.]

There is only one person that could have granted you such power, and he would never do such a thing! Vlad is a noble man, who knows the value of humanity! How dare you make such claims!

[Absurd as those words would sound to anyone, those that were close to the Dark Lord would know that there was a time where that was true. There were always rumors about the evil that resided inside the dark castle on the outskirts of Wallachia, but there was never any proof. Before he met Lisa, Dracula kept largely to himself and if he had to feed, he did so discreetly. After they married, she found more humane ways to make sure that he was nourished and that the nearby villagers remained unscathed. Though he made no secret of the fact that he held a blatant distaste for most humans, he hadn't gone out of his way to harm them.

During their time together, he had even praised her human heart and confided in her that she should always treasure it. She knew that at his most vulnerable, he regretted the decision that he made, despite the power it had granted him. Because of that, she couldn't believe that he would willingly place a curse that strong on one of her kind, unless the Chaos that controlled the castle had begun to consume him.

The thought was so abhorrent that she refused to linger on it longer than the instant it took to form in her consciousness.]

[relictusdeus]

[He studies the play of expressions on her face with increasing interest, drinking in her suffering - but when she begins to shout at him, to suggest she knew far more than himself, a shadow passes over his brow, his lips twitching with the beginnings of an ugly, inhuman snarl.

In a brief moment of lucid thought before his wild, fierce temper takes hold, he wonders just WHO this woman who so vehemently defends Dracula's capacity for kindness and sympathy - he knows only of one who would fit this description, and she had died long ago.]

The value of humanity? [Isaac tosses back his head, an unhinged, mirthless laugh rising from deep within him - and he circles her like a wolf intrigued by a new scent on its territory, heels clacking, his steps deliberate, stalking. ] Think, for an instant, of the kind, compassionate humans who burned Lord Dracula's woman at the stake. He was... so... very upset.

[He stops in front of her suddenly, almost quivering with the sheer amount of raw, violent energy surging through him. But just as he is about to snatch at her throat and squeeze it hard, some strong, nagging feeling - his better judgment, perhaps - intervenes, miraculously managing to still his hand. He shouldn't touch her... and he can't understand why. His blood bubbles hot, his eyes glowing with his malicious intent he can't act upon.]

Mercy. Sympathy. Love. [The words drip from his lips like some foul poison. All are but forms of weaknesses. [His smile broadens, a tight, vicious smile.] ...His own words. [He's lying just a little, of course, but can we always expect honesty from Isaac?]