Cyder rolls the apple between his two hands, lightly tapping his sharp nails against its seemingly delicate red surface. He merely watched the man as he spoke out his idea, watched while a few others spoke up against him. It was interesting to say the least, his attention had been drawn, though it turned more towards the splattered blood that had hit his black hood. Not that it was there for long, anyhow. The hood seemed to absorb the red liquid without any problems, leaving the hood to look as if it had never even been touched with anything. 

"We...?" He mutters quietly as he finally stops rolling the apple between his two hands. He would suddenly shove the apple into one of his overly long sleeves, causing it to seemingly vanish. He narrows his gaze towards John, someone he had seen here the few times he was here. Whatever bit of joy he had just a few moments ago had already died and gone, an utterly serious look upon his pale white features as he considers his next words. There were several in the bar whom had already spoken out against the fellow, sadly, Cyder would not be one of them. His red eyed gaze quickly moves back towards the man who had spoken out about this idea of genocide.

"I like this plan of yours. It seems fun, at least. I've just a question to ask you, though. Slaves? While I am fond of the souls of my 'brethren', they are not particularly to my liking." Cyder says this, even doing the quotation marks with his hands while he spoke the word 'brethren', referring to the magically inclined and the alike.