Mrs. Dante Valentine
Dante sat quiet, reserved, watching the young man before her. Part of her wanted to run out of there, but the cold layer of numbness she had donned since waking up to this mess, in this place… well, it certainly kept her in place, oddly calm in the midst of chaos and all of these new, disturbing experiences. She feared her mind might collapse upon itself if she ever let go of this layer. Perhaps she would forever be forced to wear it to preserve her sanity and her ice cold ability to logically deduct things easily enough. Dante knew she was an intelligent woman, but sometimes, especially right now, she almost wished it had not been so. Things would have been much easier to her had she been dumb enough to not fully recognize the situation she was in.
But then, had she been dumber, she would most likely soon look like the gruesome, dead body she had seen practically hollowed, all of his inner working gone, as the tall, blonde… creature, had put him on his shoulder and dragged him along, as though he had merely been a sack of potatoes or flour. She had such trouble figuring out how something like that could be normal in such a way. It was beyond her. She was missing pieces of the puzzle it seemed, and she did not particularly like that thought. It displeased her quite a bit, in fact. She needed those pieces, she needed more knowledge, she needed someone who could answer her many question.
What is going on? Why am I here? What exactly happened to that dead man? How come the servant does not speak and where did he get his horrid scar? Will we ever be let out of here? Am I dead? Who and what is the blonde, tall male, and why did he have red eyes? Why does everyone seem to think of pools of blood in the hallways as normal? So terribly many questions completely unanswered, and she wondered if she would have to figure them out herself or actually find some truthful being here who could talk, and who knew enough. She doubted the likeliness of that, and so, Dante merely sat quiet, doing nothing.
However, when Saber spoke, answering her question with an almost lighthearted, genuine smile, she looked into his eyes. It was all the reaction she seemed able of. It was no interesting conversation, and she did not wish for this young man to figure her out the way his eyes so seemed to try to. But she did wonder at his smile. What did he have to smile for? The last thing Dante felt like doing, was smile. She doubted anything could wring a true smile from her anytime soon. Not in this place. She was much too dissatisfied.
She watched him quietly as he finally sat with his “snack”, not having said a word in response as of yet. Then finally she cleared her throat tactfully, blinking once, green eyes ever observant of Saber’s every move. “I see,” she noted easily, her voice containing no actual emotion, yet it was not entirely cold either. Somehow she had found the most perfectly indifferent, observant yet not hostilely cold tone of voice. It was a wonder, really, but she supposed the numbness coated her voice along with her mind. She would not be surprised if it happened to be so.
“Young men rarely do,” she then added, tilting her head slightly as she watched him. “I suppose that is nothing uncommon.” She blinked only once then, no other expression touching her face. For some reason she wanted to converse with this person, but she did not wish to breach the more serious subject of the situation they both seemed to find themselves in. This was highly uncommon.