Into the Lion's Den | Popov Residence

Ksenia tilted her head as she came to a stop in front of the Popov Mansion. It was a grand place to say the least and suited the man who lead the Mafia in Russia right under Azazel. That was what she was told by Lucifer in any case.

The girl stood still in front of the structure for a few moments, the high walls looming over her small frame. She had come here uninvited and that fact alone sent a barely noticeable shiver down her spine, yet her outside demeanor staid as perfectly poised as it was before. She knew exactly what she was walking into, or more specifically, was well aware that she knew almost nothing about what lay beyond those walls. They girl wasn't as naive as she was a year ago. The skills of politics that were required in such settings were now more clear to the Slushatel and so she dived deeper into what made her a Slushatel.

That was why she had to hide the small smirk that briefly appeared on her lips before she stepped up to the door and knocked.

Answering the door was generally speaking a job for house elves. It was a menial, and by most pureblood, thus Popov standard, demeaning.

However, Kyrie didn't understand the meaning of either menial nor demeaning, and controlling impulses had never been the young, albeit attractive, man's strong suit. In fact, he couldn't control them at all. So when, as he was walking through the foyer, heading from one room to the next, and his dreamy trance was broken by the jarring sound of knuckles against wood, he simply had to go investigate.

The curiosity he had when pulling the door open was met by confused surprise as he couldn't find anything remotely recognizable about the small girl on his front foyer.

"Who are you?" the question was proposed bluntly, almost devoid of emotion. "I did not think Inno had any friends."

"Good afternoon," Ksenia said smoothly as she titled her head up slightly to meet the eyes of the newest Durmstrang Professor. "I am Ksenia Sokol. You might have seen me around Durmstrang, Professor," she answered his question, her demeanor as poised as before. The girl was slightly surprised to see one of her teachers answering the door, but he was a Popov after all, and the Popovs had a big family.

"I am here to see Pieter Popov. Can I please come in?" she asked him politely, her eyebrow rising ever so slightly.

"Professor?" Being at home again, the man had almost completely forgotten his other role, his job at the school. In fact, even when he was at school this title seemed to throw him off. There was nothing in his mind that grasped why they would apply this identity to him.

His train of thought was broken off by the mention of Pieter. His brain could not grasp that this young girl meant the older version, his father. His childish brain - much like it couldn't grasp why people would call him names other than Ky - could not grasp the distinction between "Papa" or "Father" and his actual name.

Pieter was his brother, not his father.

"He's not here; he's invisible, like mother, and the little girl down the street... he did it too himself," there was a frown on his face. "I didn't think Pieter liked death, I don't know why he did it."

Ksenia blinked a few times at the man in friend of her, finding him quite odd. Wouldn't a son of a man who was so high up in the Mafia be more mature? He appeared to have the mind of a child, someone who was unable to think abstractly. However, those thoughts were kept inside the Slushatel's head, her expression not changing.

"I am not certain that we are talking about the same person. I came here in hopes to see your father," she elaborated on her previous statemnt, keeping her voice gentle. It was almost done instinctually, not wanting to startle the Professor.

He tilted his head and looked over the girl slowly, his mind forgetting its past strand of thought and picking up the new one. She wanted to see father.

"You do not look like the usual people seeing Papa," he frowned as his gaze continued to linger. "Little girl's aren't usually his interest... that angel girl's the only one floating in after her angel boy, though I though Papa wanted him to be Inno's angel boy."

The man still hadn't let her in. In that way Ky was a much better bodyguard for the house than anything else. If your presence confused him, he could keep you out front for hours as his mind circled around itself.

"I am trying something new," Ksenia said, giving him a small smile. "And I was hoping your father could help me with that," she said simply. Her voice was not as strong as she thought it would have to be when she was addressing someone at that particular Manor. But Kyrie Popov was different and she had quickly adjusted her demeanor to suit the situation at hand, hoping it would strike through.

Over the last year the young witch had learned quite a bit about politics, the lies that people wove to suit their own purposes. She had never liked those lies when she was younger, but ever since she stepped into the Mafia Mansion she had realised that in a world like this you do not survive without those lies. Or you simply do not get any further than you already are.

"New?" Ky frowned again cocking his head to the side. He had moved slightly out of the door way. If one were to really try, it could be supposed that he had now left them in a position with at least half chance to force their way passed if they really wished.

"Why do you want something new? Is there something wrong with the old? Did it break? I really do not like it when things break. It said... though I suppose death is a kind of breaking... and its not all so sad. Its better... death, in the end."

Ksenia observed the small opening that was now available for her to get into the house. At moments like these she was very thankful for her small size. Ducking, the Slushatel twisted her body and slipped easily through the opening before turning around when she was finally inside to grin at the Professor.

"I always like new things. It's like flowing with the river. Everything changes all the time. You find new things and old things drift away behind you," her voice became slightly dreamy as she talked. The girl shook her head slightly, to refocus her mind before grinning at the man once again.

Although shocked, Kyrie actually had quite good reflexes, his hand shot out and caught the girl's wrist as she passed him, holding her in place, facing him as she had turned around. The grip wasn't tight, it certainly wouldn't cause pain, he hadn't been interested in that - he just hadn't liked her sudden movement, the sudden change - but it was firm. She wasn't getting out of it too easily.

"I didn't say you could come in," he stated simply, gaze held on her. "It's polite to ask, and wait permission before you do such things. I do not understand why we care about polite, but Papa says we do."

"But why do the old things have to drift away? Why do they need to be lost for the new?" He had lost his mother, and Papa had gone and found a new one. Although, the man had tried to explain it, Kyrie had never really understood.

Why had they replaced her?

The girl didn't do anything as he wrapped his hand around her arm, only standing there calmly looking up at him. "I did ask if i could come in. Just after you opened the door," she told him, her voice quite nonchalant. Ksenia was getting quite tired of just standing in front of the door talking to one of her Professors. This was nor what she came here to do.

"That's is just the way it is," her voice dropped, becoming soft all of a sudden as she looked into his eyes. For a moment she saw she saw something that she saw in her own eyes: loss, pain. "That's why we have to search for the new things. So we do not end up with a complete emptiness inside ourselves.

"But I didn't say you could. Asking doesn't give you permission." He tilted his head slowly, his hair falling slightly, covering his bright gaze only slight, only enough to make the way it bounced in and out of focus more unnerving. "You know, Papa has a certain way of dealing with people who don't follow manors. I'd hate for you to find that out."

He looked the girl over slowly, eyes narrowing slightly. Something twitched inside of him, but he wasn't sure what, "What's so bad with empty? Maybe we're all empty and we just don't know it."

"Kyrie, do we have a problem here?"

Iva stood at the top of the marble staircase, her annoyance practically radiating from her. Her appearance was much different from her normal school life's: hair a puff of curls, make up light and soft, and pyjama bottoms instead of her usual dresses. The Russian stepped carefully down the steps, somehow keeping a threatening presense about her.

"Ky, throw her outside," she demanded as soon as she hit the last step. Her blue eyes flashed, similiar to her father's, as a slow smirk rose on her face. "She's not welcome here. Baba doesn't want any visitors, let alone someone like her."

She ducked under her brother's arm, cuddling close to him. Her "little sister" pout on her face she looked up and whispered, "She make made one of us invisible like Pieter if she stays." He buried her head in his side. "We could disappear like Mama,"

Iva's eyes met the stranger's momentarily and a flash of contempt ran through her veins. "Or I could make her disappear,"