-Interlude-
Sliding through the shadows occupying the the grand corridor haphazardly, a shrouded figure stalked the man ahead, adorned in scarlet, retro attire of lordly figures of the past. Descending the grand staircase, the shadow of a man mirrored each and every motion and sway of Vladimir's body, with a jester's grace.
Noises from down the corridor reached Vladimir's ear, he frowned. Hopefully, it didn't get to another drinking contest between Tryndamere and Olaf, the last one ended with a brawl between the two as well as Gragas and Garen. Not one for noisy places, Vladimir had taken his leave, wetting everyone's feet with his essence, 'swimming' through the brawling crowd and out the door. Pests. Vladimir enjoyed the somewhat tranquil bar that Gragas opened up right in the Institute's hallways, it was a decent place to sit in, thinking over a past match, maybe even discussing it with the participants who miraculously always ended up there after the match.
Approaching the heavy oak doors, Lulu burst out through them, giggling and scuttling away, absurdly large, pointed mage hat swaying wildly, as an infuriated Ziggs and Tristana gave chase. The latter two froze, their expressions changing to slight fear as Vladimir strode past, shaking his head in disapproval. The moment passed and the two resumed their chase, booming down the corridor. Just at the threshold of the bar, from where a pleasant, melodical jazz sounded, Vladimir abruptly turned, looking far down the hall, eyes gleaming a dangerous red. The shadowy figure hiding at the exact spot froze, breath catching in his windpipe. Slowly, but surely, literally a sparring pitch away, Vladimir made a gesture, running a clawed finger across his throat and walked into the bar, slamming the heavy doors behind him.
"Son of a..." the shadowed man growled, taking his leave through a spacious arc that lead outside, to the green expansive fields and valleys surrounding the Institute.
