As is common in most of Plague’s plans, no small detail went unconsidered in the grand arrangement of his return.

Hibernation is a phenomenon common among reptiles during the winter months, the habit normally referred to as torpor. Plague, as a strange amalgam of mollusk, reptile, and synapsid himself, was no stranger to the process. Due to his abnormally long lifespan, he had a tendency to rest for quite a bit longer than the normal beast.

This gave him the opportunity for quite a dramatic re-entrance. And Plague was, of course, never one to spare on the dramatics.

The plans had been laid meticulously, and Kohryu, bless their agonized souls, had followed them to a T. A wealth of various pieces of artwork had been selected from Plague’s personal collection back on earth (stored mostly in light-sensitive and temperature-regulated chambers in an abandoned meat-packing plant in Baltimore) and shipped up to the campus as a gesture of good will. Plague was, of course, very interested in providing a service to the institution that had done him such overwhelming good.

Upon delivery, they had been arranged in one of the large, warehouse-like basement areas of the art building, the paintings stacked in massive rows leading out from the walls, various statuaries taking up the majority of the floor space. It was a rather impressive sight, and Kohryu was very glad they had been able to arrange such a spectacle for their Master’s return. They waited, hidden in the shadows of the warehouse, biding their time until the guest of honor arrived.

Dominating the center of the room, a massive sarcophagus lay on a raised altar; a tribute to the knight templar whose dessicated remains formerly slumbered within. Now, of course, it provided a home for a very different creature.

The invitation itself had been simple enough. The school’s administration had received a very polite request that a respectable student would be present to receive the donor of these priceless works. It would really be the least they could do.

Besides, after two years of sleep, Kohryu was certain their Master would be absolutely famished.

Vera was attending class when a staff member came in to interupt. With a cellphone and a computer as forms of contact, to come with a personal messenger must mean this was a matter of importance. That still tells the Head Girl little of why this interuption was needed and knowing this school it could mean many things beyond her imagination.

The student excuses herself from class, ignoring the whispers of her classmates. They were clueless of her position and what it truly meant on this island. She follows the man out into the hall, crossing her arms infront of her chest as she waits for instructions.

The task was a simple one. Shokushu just needed one of their gifted students to greet and thank someone for a generous donation to the school. It was hard to believe that people would donate priceless pieces of art to a school that few know about. Perhaps this was a method of funding to pay for the advanced technology this place has available.

Not having the option to refuse, Vera complied with the staff and followed the man out of the main building and towards the art and photography building. The staff member continued to inform her how important this task was time and time again as they walk downstairs and to a locked storage room.

"He will be here shortly," the man said as he unlocked the door and heads back upstairs.

Vera sighs as she pulls her long silver hair back behind her shoulders. She adjusts the light blue sash that hung around her waist. Her standard uniform would have to do for formal attire as the Head Girl opens the door and enters the warehouse.

Generous donation was an understatement. Stacks of paintings lined the walls of the room as well as large crates in each of the corners which no doubt held more priceless items. Statues of various designs and styles were spread out forming a path to the center and to each wall. But all paled in comparison to what lies in the center of the room.

She steps closer to the well sculpted altar and slowly walks around the sarcophagus that layed on top of it. Who would donate so much to this school? These appeared to be from Earth which only brought more questions to Vera's mind. Seeing little she could do besides wait, she continues to look over the giant priceless artifact. Eventhough she was a Head Girl, was she really qualified to thank such a person who brought all this?

Kohryu notices the girl enter, the escort showing her the way in to the impressive chamber, the change in the soul activity within as startling as an airhorn to the demon’s humble and faithful servant. They emerge from behind a stack of crates, forgoing their normal dress of the ancient and weathered eastern armor in favor of a fine silk shirt, black tie and vest, and black slacks. Their face is still covered, however, a plain white mask covering their features, black hair falling down the back of their neck. Their eyes, visible in the wide openings of the otherwise unadorned mask, are a verdant, striking, and beautiful emerald.

“We’re very glad you could make it, little Miss,” they say rather sincerely as they approach the center sarcophagus, their arms spread before them in a welcoming gesture. The hands’ flesh is a dead gray color, the blood vessels an unhealthy looking purple with dead, deoxygenated blood.

“And we’re very glad to see that the school has sent such a lovely welcoming party for our Master, your mystery donor,” they explain, approaching and extending a hand to the girl. Their grip is cold and clammy if shaken, “He will be with us shortly…” they bow their head, simply awaiting a signal from the slumbering beast.

“However, it may still be a few minutes. Is there anything we may help you with while you wait? The Lord specifically requested that your needs be tended to sufficiently in his absence. He left a number of wines and liquors with us if you would like a drink, though we’re afraid we have little in the way of food if you might be hungry."

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There was a rustling within the chamber, dry leaves scattered by wind. Plague felt his unconscious slumber slowly begin to ebb away, still ascending from his deep, immersive sleep.

Seems someone was already waiting for her. The formal dress shirt and pants gave a very business like appearance to the man as he approached. The mask seemed odd but it could have been some sort of matter of art or from a country she was not familiar with. But then she saw the near decaying hands and her jaw clenched briefly.

She should have figured the donor was something like this. It would have no doubt been difficult to get a human donor to this planet without drawing attention. This changes nothing of her task though. Her fate was decided the moment she put on the sash of a Head Girl. The only change was what she will be providing in the end no doubt.

Vera accepts the hand, ignoring the clammy chill that ran through her own as she takes a slight bow. The creature was polite at least but that did little to comfort her. There was an obvious reason why a student was requested to attend to this.

"It is fine," she replied cooly, "I require neither. But, I do wish some answers. My escort was vague on some matters. This vast amount of artwork, why would your Lord call for a student to greet him?"

Kohryu stepped down the staircase after retrieving their hand, nodding briefly at Vera's concerns. They folded their arms behind their back, pacing around the vast interior of the warehouse-like room. They had taken so much time in collecting this art over the years that they really paid no attention to how beautiful some of it was.

They moved through the suits of armor that lined the area around the tomb, each with its own unique accoutrements and armaments, ten in all. Passing into the area where the paintings were stacked, they began to tick through them, green eyes roving over the canvas exposed hungrily, before turning back for only a brief answer.

"Our Master requested a student to welcome him because he knows he will be weary upon his arrival," Kohryu trailed off thoughtfully, a slightly disturbing, echoing laugh before they picked back up, "We only just remembered that he abhors being referred to as 'Master' or 'Lord...'"

They chuckled as they continued their tour of the room, "But yes, he knows he will be exhausted upon his return. As for the artwork, well... He normally asks us to find some means to sell it, but he has little concern for money now, he feels that it would be put to better use if donated. Besides... for all its... darker corners, Shokushu is still a highly-rated learning institution."

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The rustling grew louder as Plague's consciousness began to blossom within the tomb. He drew in a long, rattling breath, slowly continuing that ascent from the dark ocean of slumber, his tentacles writhing beneath him, stirring the aching muscles to life, still not fully aware but certainly on his way.

He would wake up with a hell of a headache.

Vera followed the man through the warehouse, keeping a comfortable distance from him as she sifts through the various artwork. "Well what does he wish to be referred as then? And forgive my manners, I am Vera Matsumoto and who is this I am speaking to?" She asks, giving a slight bow to her introduction.

Monsters or not, she was required to remain polite and treat these particular creatures with respect. There was no doubt that she was sent to scratch a certain itch that all monsters have on this island. The fact she was ordered to be here meant she could not resist and may even have to willingly take part in anything this donator wishes of her. That just made her skin crawl. It was almost not worth the benefit of not being sold away as a slave.

"And you are correct," she continued softly, "The school is thankful for such an abundant donation to the art building. I apologize for the Headmasters being unable to attend to give their own personal thanks."

Kohryu lofted an eyebrow behind their mask, turning on their heel and folding their arms lightly behind their back, regarding her with what seemed to be an appraising eye. Their journey through the warehouse had brought them back to the foot of the altar and the sarcophagus, the shape looming in the bright, sterile lights behind them.

"He prefers to be called by his name," they reply, a little disconcerted at answering such a simple question, it seems.

They shook their head to rid themselves of the notion, "You may call us Kohryu, though we must admit that we are somewhat unused to the name, we have only been given it within the past few years."

The lid of the sarcophagus leaps, a groan echoes from within.

"You will excuse us..." Kohryu asked with a slight bow.

Suddenly the body fell limp to the floor like a wet rag. A vast swirling vortex of green smoke evacuated through the eyes, nostrils, ears, and mouth of the corpse, screaming skull-like faces flickering their dark shapes within the torrent. It split into four winds, twisting into four of the armors surrounding the room.

They stepped outward, limbs creaking as they approached the tomb in jittering, robotic movements. Each fixing their grip on a corner of the sarcophagus, they pushed the lid forward, laying it gently on the ground before the green smoke abandoned the armors and re-entered the fallen body. They pushed back to their feet, brushing them off with a rough, hacking cough.

Meanwhile, a long, rasping breath sounded from within the tomb.

Of course the Head Girl frowned at the answer. A name would have been more useful. Unfortunately she was in no position to snap back as she continues to follow after the one called Kohryu though he thought of himself as more than one.

Her eyes widen as Kohryu suddenly slumps to the floor. Vera took a few steps away from the swirling vortex as evil spirits scream and split off towards the suits of armor. Seems the creature can split apart at will, she thought to herself as the armor animates and begins to remove the lid from the sarcophagus.

The student's heart could not stop pounding inside her chest. The giant tomb looked like something that should be keeping something in. Now it was being unsealed and who knows what evil was waiting to greet her. Once the task was done the spirits returned to what could be a dead body for all she knew. Vera could not help but keep her distance from the servant and his master's resting place.

The rasping breaths made her blood run cold as what lies inside began to stir. Whatever it was, it did not sound pleasant at all.

Plague sat up in a quick motion, the cartilage between the vertebrae of his spine popping unpleasantly as he did so. However, two years of sleep will certainly do that to a set of bones. He was certainly dressed to be in a sarcophagus, his face swaddled with a set of rotting, dried bandages, his hands bandaged up to the elbow similarly. Beyond that, his body was composed of yellowed, sulfur-colored scales, like a great reptilian beast. One amber eye shone from between the bandages that covered his face.

He let out a hacking cough, doing quite a bit to ruin his shadowy and eldritch mystique, clutching a fist to where his mouth would be, "Jesus-fucking-wept!" he coughed, spitting unceremoniously over the side of the tomb, "Kohryu, toss me some Ibuprofen, I've got a damn headache that could slay a bull walrus..." the hiss left his throat.

They reached into their pocket, tossing the plain white bottle to the emerged being. Plague held a hand over the bandages of his face, masking his movements as he emptied the pill bottle into his gullet, swallowing them dry and groaning in relief. Face-tentacles pulled his bandages back into place before he turned to the girl, maintaining the slightly-humanoid illusion.

He stood, dressed in naught but a pair of stiff and shredded jeans along with his bandages.

"Kohryu, fetch my clothing, would you? I need to properly welcome our guest..."

They nodded and bowed, "Of course we shall, Plague..." before disappearing to a forgotten corner of the room.

The waking creature looked much like a mummy with all the bandages that covered his body. She caught glimpses of scales which led her to believe the creature was alive though obviously alien or mythical. The hacking cough and crude language did little to improve this being's visage. But Vera was not one to judge and was wise not to. It was just hard to believe that some powerful being sleeping in a sarcophagus was in need of a basic human medicine for headaches. At least the being was kind enough to face away before taking the pills. God only knew what was hidden behind those bandages.

The Head Girl patiently waited as the being prepared. The shredded clothing did give a very undead appearance to add to the fact this person just stepped out of a grave. She waits for Kohryu to disappear in search for some fresh clothes before stepping forward and bowing slightly.

"Welcome to Shokushu," Vera said coolly, "I am Vera Matsumoto, here to welcome and thank you for the kind donation to our school Mister... Plague."

The name was less than pleasant. She really hoped she did not catch any diseases from being near this decrepid thing. The woman gently pulls back her silver hair behind her shoulders and stands composed and ready to tend to the island's guest of honor.

"Vera, you say?" he asked, his sole eye rolling over her form appraisingly as he stepped out of the sarcophagus, brushing years of dust from his jeans as he let out another hacking cough, "The pleasure is all mine, dear."

He turned his head as Kohryu returned, the servant handing him what appeared to be a recently purchased duster of deep chocolate brown, a fedora with an elegant black silk band placed ontop. Plague threw the coat around his shoulders, the starched creases from the folds still sharply visible on the tails that fell around his legs. Perching the hat on his head, he looked down the coat and deemed it more than satisfactory.

"I must say this is rather refreshing. The island has changed much in my absence, I imagine. Here you stand for a full minute or so and not once have you attempted to liberate my head from my shoulders with some manner of fireball or even run one of the many sharp objects at your disposal into my guts," he chuckled and bowed, taking her hand and placing what felt like a soft kiss on the back, "I'm flattered."

Kohryu returned once more, extending their arms, baring a tray carrying a dark red wine in a bucket of ice and a pair of glasses. Plague poured both, setting one on the stone stairs near Vera as he sipped at his own.

"So tell me, of what misdeed are you guilty to be saddled with so onerous a duty as welcoming me?"

Vera waits for Plague to dress. The creature's outfit seemed odd but it was better than old robes or no clothes at all.
She was slightly annoyed that she was being lumped together with the common students. Not that her position matters before the monsters here.

"If I were here as a punishment, I would most likely be attempting to slay you to defend myself," she said calmly as she picks up the small glass, "But, I am not a common student. As you know, students do not know you exist or why you come to this island. I am here because of my position as a Head Girl is worthy enough to meet you on such an occasion."

She politely sips the wine as she remains composed. "For why a student and not a Headmaster is here, I can only guess. My apologies but I am not here to squirm or attempt to flee. I am merely here to complete a task and give thanks for the vast amount of art you have donated to this school."

It would not be the first time a monster decided to talk with it's food. She will keep him entertained until the inevitable comes.

"Very feisty... I've known a number of girls with your rather odd hair coloring, dear, I seem to have a taste for them. It would be presumptuous of me to assume that this would be why the Administration chose you to welcome me, but it is an odd coincidence..." he trailed off, an amused hiss leaving his throat in a dry rasp, his whole body seeming dry, joints popping with each movement, ancient like some dried mummy brought back to the living.

"I digress... my point being that you daughters of winter always possessed your own special... fire. One of your predecessors managed to help turn one of my traps against me and speared me through the chest with an elaborate piece of a broken chandelier... I wonder what became of her..." he trails off thoughtfully before downing the rest of his wine.

"No matter now. You'll have to excuse me, I wasn't aware the school even had Head Girls, I didn't bother myself with the politics of the Administration until now... However, this development interests me. They actually confessed the presence of monsters on the island to you?" he tilted his head curiously as he asked, tentacles emerging from below the back of his coat, adjusting his bandages absently, one delicate tip curling around his wineglass and setting it down behind him, all seemingly independent of his own thought.

The student's eyes narrow at the remark. It is a possibility that she was chosen because of appearance. But, only with a Head Girl could they ensure that the student would not attempt to flee or fight the monster they were suppose to be thanking.

She continued to sip her wine to hide her own cringing from the sounds of old bones regaining their movement. It truly was a disturbing sound. Was this thing undead? God, she hoped not. Vera listened politely as the man continued to speak of past silver haired women and even an encounter of being heavily damaged by one. Obviously the attack was not enough to stop a creature like this one.

Her eyes follow the strange tentacles for a moment before returning to his question about Head Girls. "I am aware of what this island and school is for. I work for them and assist in keeping order in the school as well as do various tasks to help Shokushu grow," she answered. Vera knew she was not on Earth and to have any chance of seeing it again would require her to serve these monsters and men until she can return to her company.

"A very wise decision on your part, wise beyond your years, one might even say, young one..." he laughed at this, every breath seeming to tax that body more and more. Was it even possible for something this decrepit and ancient looking to be a monster? He looked like he could be soundly defeated by a stiff breeze, let alone the grievous injuries he claims to have sustained at the hands of other students.

"My apologies with dispensing with the niceties so quickly..." he trailed off in another rasp, removing his coat once more and hanging it on the side of the tomb, "But my flesh is in agony. I'll need to feed in order to heal enough to return to my former capabilities."

He sat his hat upon the top of the coat, and as he turned his back he revealed a writhing mass of thick, segmented tendrils, a pale tan in comparison to his yellow, scaled flesh. He turned back, the tendrils arching behind him menacingly, some tapered to slender tips while others bore cruel looking pincers of dark obsidian.