[ From somewhere in the opera house - his sequestered location, he sees the subtle changes happening. He has no immediate explanation for why this - person - would be able to do such things. Or why, but he does find it fascinating.

[ In a really enraging sort of way.

[ He is beyond pleased at being 'vexing', however.

[ He watches the tendrils and is confused more than anything else. That isn't a typical aspect of human physiology.]

Illusions serve me well, monsieur.

[ He doesn't actively engage people unless he has too. His threats usually do enough to make people back off.

[ The strange physiology is confounding him though. ]

Why do you don armor if you're not afraid of me and my illusions?

[ Openings on the stage could lead anywhere - or nowhere. Certain ones of them do lead to his lair... eventually. Through twists and turns and cutbacks and almost a maze of tunnels beneath the opera. ]

Perhaps you should explain your interest in my student - and I may be persuaded to end this engagement.