The funny thing about tracking demons was that it was, simply put, almost fucking impossible. They could look like anyone they felt like, travel wherever they wanted without being limited by trains or boats or whatever else, but finally, after what felt like forever, she had a good lead. That lead had brought her to Shanghai— a first, though she's no stranger to travel, and she knows she sticks out here even more than she usually does.
The hair, in particular, draws attention, and most people in the bar she's taken up residence in have been giving her a wide berth since one patron had gotten a little too chummy with her and walked away with a couple of broken fingers. The barkeep had chosen to overlook it this once, if only because said patron was a repeated offender, but anything else might be pushing her luck.
She's halfway through her second drink when the door opens and Yuri walks in. There's nothing about his appearance that strikes her as significant, but he still manages to command her attention— there's an undercurrent that moves through the room, dark energy that makes her feel just a little bit on edge, and that all-too-familiar voice at the back of her head offers his two cents.
"Lookit that, Sunshine! Can't say for sure what he is, but he's some kinda freak. Might just be our guy. Only one way to find out, you know..."
"Shut up," she mutters under her breath, but even so, she grabs hold of her drink and angles herself just slightly towards the door, watching the new arrival with veiled intent, curious. He's probably just here for a drink like anyone else, but Tyrann is right, much as she hates to admit it. He's not human.
He ambles up to the bar, ordering a beer and parking at the bar itself. There's a crowd, which isn't such a bad thing, but this crowd looks fairly local. Which means he stands out.
Or maybe he just gives off a vibe, because the trouble makers sure latch onto him as soon as he has his glass in hand.
"Don't recognize ya."
A heavy sigh makes his shoulders droop, and he wonders if this has always been his life. Knowing the luck he has, it has. Maybe that should be reassuring but right now it's real fucking annoying, just like this guy coming up to him to show off for his friends. He decides to ignore him.
"Yo, you look at someone when they're talking to you."
Rolling his eyes, he downs the beer and turns to face this idiot. One of those tough guys. One who immediately turns ghost white when he sees Yuri's face.
"Aw, shit, nevermind man."
That's...new. Yuri gives the guy a baffled look as he scrambles away, clear out the door before he has a chance to say anything. He blinks a few times, then glances around the room. There's a few people staring - old bartender pretending to clean a glass, a lady with blonde...white? Hair. Glaring at him?
That's what he's used to. Usually from the men, though.
Shaking his head, he turns back to the bar. Maybe he should chase after the guy, but he's fricken tired. Can't he just have a night? A day?
Cursing to himself, he slams a bill down on the counter and takes off after the weirdo. He's gonna get some answers at least.
So much for observation. Whatever energy he'd brought into the bar with him, it follows him right back out— but she doesn't intend to lose sight of him so easily. Even when he'd noticed her staring, she hadn't batted an eye, and subtlety isn't something she puts too much stock into on a normal day. Slamming money down on the bar behind her, she shoves herself off of the stool she'd occupied and heads towards the exit, ignoring the barkeep's shout that she'd overpaid.
She has eyes on him almost immediately upon leaving the bar, and takes off at a run to keep up. Wherever he intends to chase his own prey, she plans to follow— and seeing how this guy deals with him? That'll tell her a whole lot of what she needs to know in itself.
He's about a conspicuous as they come - making a direct beeline to the men who had just left. They see him coming, and with eyes wide they scurry off, down an alley way. He doesn't hesitate to follow them, and it's in the shadows of that very alley that he sense someone following him.
His shoulders tense, but he stays the course, torn between running after the idiots (who have already booked it around the corner) and confronting the presence behind him. It doesn't seem very friendly, and he wonders if he could just...go back to his hotel.
Take a nap.
Go back to Europe.
With a sigh, he knows that isn't a choice for him and he stops abruptly, whipping around to confront his shadow.
"You wanna tell me what's going on?" He says...to nothing he can see. Shit, this hellhole is pitch black. Can't see nothin'.
She stops short in his wake, and when he turns to face her, she's standing there in the open rather than trying to appear inconspicuous, her hands clenched into tight fists at her sides. The dark doesn't bother her so much, but she still can't see much more than his outline here in the alleyway, and she's willing to bet he can't see much more of her, either.
"Depends."
Shit, even when he talks, she can feel that demonic energy pulsing through the air surrounding. Whatever the hell he is, it sure as hell isn't human.
"C'mon, sunshine, why waste time talkin'? Rip him to shreds! Bet he bleeds real good..."
She closes her eyes for a brief moment, exhaling to steel herself before fixing her gaze on him— her vision is starting to adjust, and while there's still several feet of space between them, it's a small distance that either of them could clear in no time.
"Is that even your own goddamn face you're wearing?"
His expression can only be described as dumbfounded. Emphasis on dumb. Shaking his head, he goes into Hero Mode or at least Guy You Don't Mess With Mode. Crossing his arms over his chest, he cocks a hip to the side and frowns at her. He opens his mouth to answer as his eyes adjust to the dim light and something in the color of her hair, the lines of her face, pings some recognition.
"Hey, you're that lady from the bar!" He sounds accusing. "Why you worrying about my face, anyway? You like it?"
You've found a stupid man, Kaine. Not completely, though, since there is an energy that surrounds her he hasn't felt before. It sure as hell isn't Light based either.
She gestures broadly, bracing a hand against her hip. He seems like he has the potential to be a talker. She's not so sure she's into that.
"Not particularly," she all but spits back, her jaw tight. "But I got a feeling it ain't yours. The whole mood of that bar changed when you strolled in. Doesn't seem like a fucking coincidence to me. I can practically smell the demon on you from here."
Alright, that might be a little bit of a stretch, but they're trying to out-Tough Guy each other here, right?
Great. Someone able to pick up on his fusion vibes. Most folks just skirt around him, if he's got his glare on for the day, but otherwise he does his best to seem like average man out for the day.
It's hard not to roll his eyes, but a hand does come up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "What, you some kinda exorcist or something? Look, it's a long story but I'm not starting fights. Just looking for info. Once I get it, my ass will be out of Shanghai before you know it."
God forbid she decides to become a babysitter. He has a feeling he's run into that plenty in his life. Whatever his life had been before.
Not a bible in sight, and where would she even tuck a bottle of holy water in this getup? Not that she's interested in mincing words, because she knows his kind— the type that think they can talk their way out of any situation, that if they swear they're not looking for a fight they'll be allowed to slither away.
Fat fucking chance.
"Right. Info. And how many heads are you looking to crack open to get it? Enough of your bullshit, I know a goddamn demon when I see one!"
Another step forward, and suddenly there's a weapon in one hand, as though a sword had materialized out of thin air.
Who is this lady? Annoyance rolls off him in waves, his energy noticeable darker - maybe dangerous, but he has no intention on transforming.
For all that Roger insists he has had control in the past, that control is gone. He doesn't want to put himself in a position of being in a demonic form and laying waste. That's apparently something that's happened before, though Roger was great at leaving out the details. Like always.
"Yeah, hunting for info, so back off." He folds his arms, glaring at her. "What's it to you, anyway? You're the one stalkin' me, lady. Does it look like I'm out here eatin' people and shit? You gotta go to one of those rural towns around here for that."
He thinks. Maybe. It feels right, saying it, even though he doesn't know if it's true. Probably one of those folk tales people tell around here and he just caught it in the air. Whatever the reason, she's got a sword out and he's ready to defend himself, if needed.
The rise in his own energy brings something within her to just beneath the surface; she can feel her pulse quicken, her blood run hot, and the voice that never shuts up for more than five minutes sees fit to latch on and goad, to try and use the moment to his own advantage.
"Cut it with the talk already, Sunshine. Just look at 'im. You can smell it on him, can't you? Don't drag this out, just go for the kill! Even if he's not the guy— c'mon. It'll feel real good."
She screws her eyes shut for a moment, closing her empty hand into a tight fist at her side as she tries to shove Tyrann aside, to ignore his goading as best he can. That's not how she wants to handle this. She grits her teeth, her eyes flying open to lock onto Yuri's own gaze.
"Well I'm hunting— a demon. And since I got to Shanghai, all signs point to you."
He's the only one who's even come close to fitting the bill.
When she closes her eyes, as if fighting something inside her, he takes note of that. It's a feeling he knows well - the malice that accumulates every time he finds himself in a fight makes him react in a similar way.
"Look," his hands go up, placating. He's not one to talk himself out of a fight...he thinks. As it is, he's reluctant to get into it, especially with stalker lady who seems prepared to stab him in the face. He likes his face, he wants to keep it. "Give me five minutes, I can explain what you're..sensing."
Or whatever the hell it is she's doing. The urge to jump into a fight is there, it's strong and prodding him to some action, but there's another part of him that resists, demanding patience.
Five minutes is a better offer than she would have expected. Though her instinct is to brush it aside and trust her own gut, something about him gives her pause— demons, as she knows them, aren't inclined to talk, to try and make peace. If nothing else, should he try to take the opportunity to make a break for it, she trusts herself to be fast enough to catch up to him before he can go very far.
Fine.
She exhales, lowering her sword so that the blunt end of it rests against the ground, leaning her own weight against it as her free hand comes to settle against her hip.
"Fine. Start talking. Any sudden movements and you're just asking for me to rip out your guts and hang them like streamers, though."
The mental image has his nose scrunching up, expression showing just how disgusting the idea is. No, thanks, crazy lady, he's happy enough with his guts inside where they belong.
"I'm able to turn into monsters or demons or whatever it is I'm fighting. Not a total copy, but I can pick up skills from them. I kinda gather malice after a fight - the souls of the monsters I've beat." Somehow. If he doesn't sound entirely sound, that's because he's going off information from Roger. Who is barely alive as it is. "Listen, my memory is basically gone, and it's a long story, but you're probably sensing that malice part. I got a thing I do to clear it out but haven't done it in a while."
As soon as this is out, he realizes just how insane it sounds. Probably stupid, too. Then again, she's the one accosting him in an alley and threatening to turn his insides into party decorations. No way in hell is he going to volunteer details on his soul forming a graveyard inside him. He's still not figured that bullshit out.
It would be a tall tale for some to swallow, probably, but for those reasonably familiar with demons themselves and the supernatural aspects of the world, not so much. Even so, the power he claims to have is supposed to be a pretty rare one, isn't it?
Her brows draw downward, scrutinizing him, followed by an irate huff of breath.
"Prove it."
If he can transform into a demon, then he should have no problem showing her. Admittedly, she's the last person who should be casting doubt on the abilities of others, but her own situation is... something of a special case.
"Come on, Sunshine, he as good as 'fessed up. So he's not a demon all the time. That's still part demon, right? Run him through, make him bleed!"
She shuts her eyes again for a moment, a vain attempt to stop Tyrann from hissing in her ear.
"Show me what you can do. Maybe then we can come to some kind of an arrangement."
Now he's gotta prove himself to this weird lady and her seemingly sharp sword. Even if it came to a fight, he would have to transform anyway, right?
It's with a hefty sigh, as if she's asking him to do so much, the pain begins.
It's in his head, at first. It always starts there. A white hot flash behind his eyes, and even during his transformation he has to hold back. Hold what back, he doesn't truly know - something big, something dark. Something that threatens to consume him entirely.
For now, though, he keeps it simple - using dark energy, his body forms itself anew...sorta. His clothes are still on (thankfully), and for all she can see his hair turned white, his skin a sickly purple, his shoes...they gone, gurl.
Once it's complete, he rolls his shoulders, stretching his neck from one side to the next. He then spreads his arms out, as if to say Ta-da.
Eloquent. Descriptive. For the first time, Kainé's eyes go just a bit wide. She's seen countless monsters in her day, all kinds of demons during her hunt for the one responsible for her grandmother's death, but this...
She's never seen anything quite like it. Even what she herself can do is different in nature. Parts of her change, sure, but not like that.
He does a strange imitation of a huff, hands pointedly going to his hips. Realizing it's hard for anyone to take him seriously in this form, especially if they aren't cowering in fear, he grunts and shakes his head.
Fuck it. He closes his eyes, concentrating on his form -- his human form. It's always a little bit of a struggle, and a small sliver of worry always wraps itself around his heart, squeezing just a bit and making him wonder what if. What if he gets stuck like this? What then? Does he run around and eat people or something?
Within a few moments, he's back to looking human, a hand pressing against his head as if he's in pain. It's like the world's most shitty migraine, if only for a few seconds, and he shakes his head to try to clear his brain.
"Yeah, if you've got any questions, I'm gonna tell you right now - I ain't got half the answers." Unless he question involves what he likes to eat - everything.
Well, even if doesn't have half the answers, that's not going to stop her from asking her questions anyway. It looks like the whole ordeal takes a lot out of him when he changes back, and she doesn't envy him that in the least— given how painful her own abilities can be sometimes, being able to change your entire body has to be on another level.
Shit, how does someone even get like this?
"How long have you been able to do that?"
Was he just born that way, the way she had been born a little bit different?
He's just gonna shrug at this one. 'Cause he truly has no idea - how long, where it came from, what it is, exactly.
"I dunno, I guess my whole life?" Even to him he sounds like he's incredibly unsure, so maybe he should just be up front. "Something happened and my memories..."
He waves a hand in the air, indicating he was wiped clean.
"Took a while to get some answers from an old geezer," his annoyance is very clear, and he's still tempted to just toss Roger Bacon off a cliff. The troll would probably survive and bounce right back up to boot Yuri in his own ass. "I'm trying to figure out the rest. Just got my name and a few basics."
He doesn't remember anything beyond that? Tempted as she is to continue handling this situation with extreme skepticism, something about that strikes a chord with her. To forget who she was, or where she came from, to not be able to have answers to the most basic questions— it sounds like a goddamn nightmare.
At her words, his shoulders sag, as if weighed down with the heaviness of just how raw of a deal he has.
"Yeah, no kidding." Shaking his head, he tries not to immediately dwell on all the unknowns about his life, especially this inside him. Malice or monsters or demons or what the hell ever it is.
Now that she seems less willing to eviscerate him, he eyes her cautiously. They're still in the shadows of the alley, but she's so pale she seems to reflect light on her own. That's a lot of skin there so he focuses on her face. Yes. That's it. Totally not looking anywhere else.
"So...no stabbing? I'm good? 'Cause I was gonna catch up to those guys --" And he pauses, realizing that there's no way in hell he'll find those assholes. He blows out a loud breath, as if deflating. "Never mind. Maybe I'll hunt down those idiots tomorrow."
She sighs heavily, and her entire body relaxes into a more casual slump as a great deal of the fight rushes out of her. This whole thing is a pain in the ass, but more than what he says, it’s her gut that convinces her.
He’s not who she’s looking for. Probably not, anyway.
“No, no stabbing.” A beat, as she lifts her chin and looks towards the other end of the alleyway. “We could still catch them. What, you some kind of fuckin’ quitter?” Nevermind the fact that she’s the one who delayed him.
He frowns at her, forgetting how a few minutes before she was threatening him and ready to skewer him.
She's questioning his very manhood. Or something like that. Whatever it is, he has some pride and he crosses his arms over his chest. Possibly trying to make himself look bigger.
"I ain't a quitter, damn." The last part is muttered, because he's actually not out to piss her off. She is kinda scary. "I just wanted to ask them some questions. They seemed like the recognized me and not in a good way."
Looks like he spent some time in Shanghai scaring some punks. He hopes.
"Don't remember the last time I was here, so if they got some info I'm gonna get it out of them. It's not that urgent." He shrugs, his words giving a more menacing tone to what he plans -- which is go loom over the guys and get details without doing much else. They did seem terrified of him.
"You go around accosting people in alleys often? What demon are you even looking for around here?"
Of all the things she’s done in her quest for vengeance, accosting someone in an alley is pretty low on the list of things that could be considered shocking. She gives a snort before shaking her head, dismissive.
“Not urgent, huh. Well, every minute you spend standing around here, they get further and further away. You want to hunt someone down, you have to be relentless— and as for what kind of demon I’m looking for, clearly the kind that gets around.” She doesn’t exactly look native to Shanghai, for one.
“He’s in this goddamn shithole of a city, I know that much.”
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The hair, in particular, draws attention, and most people in the bar she's taken up residence in have been giving her a wide berth since one patron had gotten a little too chummy with her and walked away with a couple of broken fingers. The barkeep had chosen to overlook it this once, if only because said patron was a repeated offender, but anything else might be pushing her luck.
She's halfway through her second drink when the door opens and Yuri walks in. There's nothing about his appearance that strikes her as significant, but he still manages to command her attention— there's an undercurrent that moves through the room, dark energy that makes her feel just a little bit on edge, and that all-too-familiar voice at the back of her head offers his two cents.
"Lookit that, Sunshine! Can't say for sure what he is, but he's some kinda freak. Might just be our guy. Only one way to find out, you know..."
"Shut up," she mutters under her breath, but even so, she grabs hold of her drink and angles herself just slightly towards the door, watching the new arrival with veiled intent, curious. He's probably just here for a drink like anyone else, but Tyrann is right, much as she hates to admit it. He's not human.
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Or maybe he just gives off a vibe, because the trouble makers sure latch onto him as soon as he has his glass in hand.
"Don't recognize ya."
A heavy sigh makes his shoulders droop, and he wonders if this has always been his life. Knowing the luck he has, it has. Maybe that should be reassuring but right now it's real fucking annoying, just like this guy coming up to him to show off for his friends. He decides to ignore him.
"Yo, you look at someone when they're talking to you."
Rolling his eyes, he downs the beer and turns to face this idiot. One of those tough guys. One who immediately turns ghost white when he sees Yuri's face.
"Aw, shit, nevermind man."
That's...new. Yuri gives the guy a baffled look as he scrambles away, clear out the door before he has a chance to say anything. He blinks a few times, then glances around the room. There's a few people staring - old bartender pretending to clean a glass, a lady with blonde...white? Hair. Glaring at him?
That's what he's used to. Usually from the men, though.
Shaking his head, he turns back to the bar. Maybe he should chase after the guy, but he's fricken tired. Can't he just have a night? A day?
Cursing to himself, he slams a bill down on the counter and takes off after the weirdo. He's gonna get some answers at least.
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She has eyes on him almost immediately upon leaving the bar, and takes off at a run to keep up. Wherever he intends to chase his own prey, she plans to follow— and seeing how this guy deals with him? That'll tell her a whole lot of what she needs to know in itself.
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His shoulders tense, but he stays the course, torn between running after the idiots (who have already booked it around the corner) and confronting the presence behind him. It doesn't seem very friendly, and he wonders if he could just...go back to his hotel.
Take a nap.
Go back to Europe.
With a sigh, he knows that isn't a choice for him and he stops abruptly, whipping around to confront his shadow.
"You wanna tell me what's going on?" He says...to nothing he can see. Shit, this hellhole is pitch black. Can't see nothin'.
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"Depends."
Shit, even when he talks, she can feel that demonic energy pulsing through the air surrounding. Whatever the hell he is, it sure as hell isn't human.
"C'mon, sunshine, why waste time talkin'? Rip him to shreds! Bet he bleeds real good..."
She closes her eyes for a brief moment, exhaling to steel herself before fixing her gaze on him— her vision is starting to adjust, and while there's still several feet of space between them, it's a small distance that either of them could clear in no time.
"Is that even your own goddamn face you're wearing?"
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"What?"
His expression can only be described as dumbfounded. Emphasis on dumb. Shaking his head, he goes into Hero Mode or at least Guy You Don't Mess With Mode. Crossing his arms over his chest, he cocks a hip to the side and frowns at her. He opens his mouth to answer as his eyes adjust to the dim light and something in the color of her hair, the lines of her face, pings some recognition.
"Hey, you're that lady from the bar!" He sounds accusing. "Why you worrying about my face, anyway? You like it?"
You've found a stupid man, Kaine. Not completely, though, since there is an energy that surrounds her he hasn't felt before. It sure as hell isn't Light based either.
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She gestures broadly, bracing a hand against her hip. He seems like he has the potential to be a talker. She's not so sure she's into that.
"Not particularly," she all but spits back, her jaw tight. "But I got a feeling it ain't yours. The whole mood of that bar changed when you strolled in. Doesn't seem like a fucking coincidence to me. I can practically smell the demon on you from here."
Alright, that might be a little bit of a stretch, but they're trying to out-Tough Guy each other here, right?
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It's hard not to roll his eyes, but a hand does come up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "What, you some kinda exorcist or something? Look, it's a long story but I'm not starting fights. Just looking for info. Once I get it, my ass will be out of Shanghai before you know it."
God forbid she decides to become a babysitter. He has a feeling he's run into that plenty in his life. Whatever his life had been before.
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Not a bible in sight, and where would she even tuck a bottle of holy water in this getup? Not that she's interested in mincing words, because she knows his kind— the type that think they can talk their way out of any situation, that if they swear they're not looking for a fight they'll be allowed to slither away.
Fat fucking chance.
"Right. Info. And how many heads are you looking to crack open to get it? Enough of your bullshit, I know a goddamn demon when I see one!"
Another step forward, and suddenly there's a weapon in one hand, as though a sword had materialized out of thin air.
"You're hunting."
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For all that Roger insists he has had control in the past, that control is gone. He doesn't want to put himself in a position of being in a demonic form and laying waste. That's apparently something that's happened before, though Roger was great at leaving out the details. Like always.
"Yeah, hunting for info, so back off." He folds his arms, glaring at her. "What's it to you, anyway? You're the one stalkin' me, lady. Does it look like I'm out here eatin' people and shit? You gotta go to one of those rural towns around here for that."
He thinks. Maybe. It feels right, saying it, even though he doesn't know if it's true. Probably one of those folk tales people tell around here and he just caught it in the air. Whatever the reason, she's got a sword out and he's ready to defend himself, if needed.
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"Cut it with the talk already, Sunshine. Just look at 'im. You can smell it on him, can't you? Don't drag this out, just go for the kill! Even if he's not the guy— c'mon. It'll feel real good."
She screws her eyes shut for a moment, closing her empty hand into a tight fist at her side as she tries to shove Tyrann aside, to ignore his goading as best he can. That's not how she wants to handle this. She grits her teeth, her eyes flying open to lock onto Yuri's own gaze.
"Well I'm hunting— a demon. And since I got to Shanghai, all signs point to you."
He's the only one who's even come close to fitting the bill.
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"Look," his hands go up, placating. He's not one to talk himself out of a fight...he thinks. As it is, he's reluctant to get into it, especially with stalker lady who seems prepared to stab him in the face. He likes his face, he wants to keep it. "Give me five minutes, I can explain what you're..sensing."
Or whatever the hell it is she's doing. The urge to jump into a fight is there, it's strong and prodding him to some action, but there's another part of him that resists, demanding patience.
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Fine.
She exhales, lowering her sword so that the blunt end of it rests against the ground, leaning her own weight against it as her free hand comes to settle against her hip.
"Fine. Start talking. Any sudden movements and you're just asking for me to rip out your guts and hang them like streamers, though."
Just so he knows.
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"I'm able to turn into monsters or demons or whatever it is I'm fighting. Not a total copy, but I can pick up skills from them. I kinda gather malice after a fight - the souls of the monsters I've beat." Somehow. If he doesn't sound entirely sound, that's because he's going off information from Roger. Who is barely alive as it is. "Listen, my memory is basically gone, and it's a long story, but you're probably sensing that malice part. I got a thing I do to clear it out but haven't done it in a while."
As soon as this is out, he realizes just how insane it sounds. Probably stupid, too. Then again, she's the one accosting him in an alley and threatening to turn his insides into party decorations. No way in hell is he going to volunteer details on his soul forming a graveyard inside him. He's still not figured that bullshit out.
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Her brows draw downward, scrutinizing him, followed by an irate huff of breath.
"Prove it."
If he can transform into a demon, then he should have no problem showing her. Admittedly, she's the last person who should be casting doubt on the abilities of others, but her own situation is... something of a special case.
"Come on, Sunshine, he as good as 'fessed up. So he's not a demon all the time. That's still part demon, right? Run him through, make him bleed!"
She shuts her eyes again for a moment, a vain attempt to stop Tyrann from hissing in her ear.
"Show me what you can do. Maybe then we can come to some kind of an arrangement."
i need new icons dang
It's with a hefty sigh, as if she's asking him to do so much, the pain begins.
It's in his head, at first. It always starts there. A white hot flash behind his eyes, and even during his transformation he has to hold back. Hold what back, he doesn't truly know - something big, something dark. Something that threatens to consume him entirely.
For now, though, he keeps it simple - using dark energy, his body forms itself anew...sorta. His clothes are still on (thankfully), and for all she can see his hair turned white, his skin a sickly purple, his shoes...they gone, gurl.
Once it's complete, he rolls his shoulders, stretching his neck from one side to the next. He then spreads his arms out, as if to say Ta-da.
I gotta get you those screencaps!
Eloquent. Descriptive. For the first time, Kainé's eyes go just a bit wide. She's seen countless monsters in her day, all kinds of demons during her hunt for the one responsible for her grandmother's death, but this...
She's never seen anything quite like it. Even what she herself can do is different in nature. Parts of her change, sure, but not like that.
"You weren't fucking kidding."
gurl yaaaaas
Fuck it. He closes his eyes, concentrating on his form -- his human form. It's always a little bit of a struggle, and a small sliver of worry always wraps itself around his heart, squeezing just a bit and making him wonder what if. What if he gets stuck like this? What then? Does he run around and eat people or something?
Within a few moments, he's back to looking human, a hand pressing against his head as if he's in pain. It's like the world's most shitty migraine, if only for a few seconds, and he shakes his head to try to clear his brain.
"Yeah, if you've got any questions, I'm gonna tell you right now - I ain't got half the answers." Unless he question involves what he likes to eat - everything.
…maybe he's a little hungry.
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Shit, how does someone even get like this?
"How long have you been able to do that?"
Was he just born that way, the way she had been born a little bit different?
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"I dunno, I guess my whole life?" Even to him he sounds like he's incredibly unsure, so maybe he should just be up front. "Something happened and my memories..."
He waves a hand in the air, indicating he was wiped clean.
"Took a while to get some answers from an old geezer," his annoyance is very clear, and he's still tempted to just toss Roger Bacon off a cliff. The troll would probably survive and bounce right back up to boot Yuri in his own ass. "I'm trying to figure out the rest. Just got my name and a few basics."
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He doesn't remember anything beyond that? Tempted as she is to continue handling this situation with extreme skepticism, something about that strikes a chord with her. To forget who she was, or where she came from, to not be able to have answers to the most basic questions— it sounds like a goddamn nightmare.
Poor bastard.
"Raw fucking deal you got."
i shall pummel you with tags that are a year due
"Yeah, no kidding." Shaking his head, he tries not to immediately dwell on all the unknowns about his life, especially this inside him. Malice or monsters or demons or what the hell ever it is.
Now that she seems less willing to eviscerate him, he eyes her cautiously. They're still in the shadows of the alley, but she's so pale she seems to reflect light on her own. That's a lot of skin there so he focuses on her face. Yes. That's it. Totally not looking anywhere else.
"So...no stabbing? I'm good? 'Cause I was gonna catch up to those guys --" And he pauses, realizing that there's no way in hell he'll find those assholes. He blows out a loud breath, as if deflating. "Never mind. Maybe I'll hunt down those idiots tomorrow."
no subject
She sighs heavily, and her entire body relaxes into a more casual slump as a great deal of the fight rushes out of her. This whole thing is a pain in the ass, but more than what he says, it’s her gut that convinces her.
He’s not who she’s looking for. Probably not, anyway.
“No, no stabbing.” A beat, as she lifts her chin and looks towards the other end of the alleyway. “We could still catch them. What, you some kind of fuckin’ quitter?” Nevermind the fact that she’s the one who delayed him.
no subject
She's questioning his very manhood. Or something like that. Whatever it is, he has some pride and he crosses his arms over his chest. Possibly trying to make himself look bigger.
"I ain't a quitter, damn." The last part is muttered, because he's actually not out to piss her off. She is kinda scary. "I just wanted to ask them some questions. They seemed like the recognized me and not in a good way."
Looks like he spent some time in Shanghai scaring some punks. He hopes.
"Don't remember the last time I was here, so if they got some info I'm gonna get it out of them. It's not that urgent." He shrugs, his words giving a more menacing tone to what he plans -- which is go loom over the guys and get details without doing much else. They did seem terrified of him.
"You go around accosting people in alleys often? What demon are you even looking for around here?"
no subject
Of all the things she’s done in her quest for vengeance, accosting someone in an alley is pretty low on the list of things that could be considered shocking. She gives a snort before shaking her head, dismissive.
“Not urgent, huh. Well, every minute you spend standing around here, they get further and further away. You want to hunt someone down, you have to be relentless— and as for what kind of demon I’m looking for, clearly the kind that gets around.” She doesn’t exactly look native to Shanghai, for one.
“He’s in this goddamn shithole of a city, I know that much.”