Meanwhile on earth (Open)

[Xerath]

January 15th, 2012

Jealousy. It boiled like water in her veins. Pain blurred her thoughts or was she trying to remember? Panne had a hard time distinguishing the difference between the real world and her dreams. Everything was a lifeless blur that mocked her. Her earliest thoughts were a loss that she couldn't reach. Constantly she tried to recall something, anything but there was nothing. She couldn't hear the wind or feel the breeze on her skin. The sun shining meant nothing but gloom in her soul. Such light only made her grimace and narrow her eyes.

Clueless.. the world was so ignorant of itself. Everyone around her was a bunch of clueless louts; oblivious as newborn children.

Laughter made her eyes shoot towards the source. Who was that? Happiness, how cruel. If there had been a God, he simply adored messing with the poor woman who had nothing, not even memories in life. The pain sunk deeper. Jealousy, envy, whatever it was called panged in her stomach and rocked her mind like a metronome. The happy couple couldn't notice her; she was nearly invisible to them. Her dark tresses fell over her eyes, further obscuring her sight while they left. Stupid, pitiful. That's how she felt, but the words had no more accompanying words. They were simply blank insults flung by her own mind at the nearest source of joy. Had she the option, she'd wipe the smile off their faces. How could people be so blissfully happy? Didn't they know misery was a common visitor and took no hostages. Oddly the knowledge of them one day having to fight for the happiness made her feel better. It would be unfair if happinesses were just given away. Who would hand them out? Better yet why were they taunting Panne with them? The world was a place that she was passed by with so much good and given nothing in turn.

Stepping past a balloon stand with a young child, she couldn't help but notice how insincere the smiles were. Fakeness, yet it spurned more of that beast in her chest. It tightened, it gripped her tighter and swallowed her breath. She breathed it. Was it existence or being? Some might have urged her to kill herself if she was so miserable, but her soul searched on. Something was missing. It was as if she only held the unhappy half of her heart and there was the other half out there somewhere.. or she was delusional. Her life wasn't some corny story for people read and establish her as the antagonist. Yes. She was the villain of her own story; misunderstood even by herself at times. Her feet kept moving, but her eyes saw only the slow haze of movement.

[Aravad]

Luminscent shades watched as the abundance of cattle went by their lives forever unknowing of the realities that transpire in the other face of the window. Hissing and laughing their way at preposterous superstition like girly little girls having their way with dolls. Basically, they were all ass retarded in the brain, best lobotomized. But Aravad knows, he knows VERY WELL just what stands at the other side of the rabbit hole. Aravad was but one cog among many, melding in the crowd and having melted within Washington D.C. like the illegal immigrant he is. The alabastar haired one made way through the swaying bulk of sapiens as it were, like a river of murky bubbles that clouds his existence and yet a cacophony existed in his cranial lobes, hissing promises of pleasure, unfathomable powers and apparently those of infernal origins are having an advertisement on his head over the benefits of using a scrub to get rid of all those demon flakes off their backs... WHY THE HELL WAS THIS IN HIS HEAD?! WHAT THE FUCK.

The lack of fathoming as to why this feature existed within his head pressed onto more concerning matters as to WHEN this practice has come to be widespread as it were, that perhaps he won't be getting anymore sleep anymore. Sweet honeyed words of lustful invites wooed him to sleep, as it were sweet, and promises of power too satisfied him down to lose what mirth he had towards slothful sleep. Alas, such quandaries befell not the mind of the white one of shaded eyes, for he trot trot his merry way through the very foundation of the country of the United States of America, arrogant be the name as it were. Till upon a merry way he came in contact with a smaller figure of feminine proportions cast her form against his, staggering him back and a step. Camouflaged person of alike nature coincidentally upon the like locality, for what abundance of humans brought a hindrance upon the vision shaded thusly.

Upon taking his bearing, he glanced upon the victim of such bump, envisioning fully within his optical eyes the form of the woman behind his shades, though darkened her form may be, but it were only a result of his own shades. Looking at her, he would move about to her, that even as it were, would do what she would find herself distraught with necessary as to restore what balance back into the melancholic individual before him that be Panne.

"A thousand apologies, ma'am. I wasn't looking your way, are you per chance in any distress of the sort?" His deep voice sounded brim with Norwegian twang, as the Scandinavian spoke to his fellow ritualist, unaware ever so of her true nature, and yet a feeling of openness agap as it were a special aura presided her piqued his interest ever so mostly.

[Xerath]

The day was another where no answers would be found. IN her bones she knew it, but her mind hungered for that lost knowledge. Shame on her. Why did she keep moving despite the inevitable? Why was she still fighting to regain what was lost? In fact, why even fight at all? Her eyes narrowed and in her zoned mentality, she did not notice the man whom was also spacing. It seemed the two collided as one moment Panne was standing and the next she was staggering.

The impact stung her arm lightly. It was mainly instinct, when she moved her arm and gripped the spot hit. Then eyes full of venom found the man before her. "A thousand apologies, ma'am. I wasn't looking your way, are you per chance in any distress of the sort?" He had said. yes, as if he cared. Obviously he hadn't cared enough to see her in the first part of their encounter. Why would he bother to feign interest now? Perhaps it was guilt. The reason was unexplored, and left her wondering just who this man thought he was.

"To what extent?" She retorted, dusting her pants as if they had been sullied by his presence. "I am assuming you mean by bumping into me? That is nothing to bother myself over." After dusting, she fixed her hair and pretended to dismiss the man. "Just be careful, because next time someone might kill you for running into them," she said. Her words were spoken in a threatening way, as if DARING him to run into her again. It wasn't like she WOULD kill the man, but the thought was always tempting. All humans were so disgustingly blissful and drunk off of themselves to the point they never noticed anything outside of arm's reach. (Not like she really had room to speak).

[Aravad]

"Kay, I'll be sure to watch out for those people because nobody can actually kill me. I should know, I actually killed a demon before." Says Aravad, stabbing his thumb into his chest, with a not-smiling face staring at her, "My name is ████ ███████████ but call me Aravad by the way, what's yours?" He says his name, but for some reason, that was blurted out by a honking horn which sort of just defeated the whole purpose of him telling his name, but ALAS, the world shall NEVER KNOW.

He didn't notice any threatening details about her really, because he was just too nice. Like not mean necessarily, but he doesn't have to be a dick to her. If everyone are dicks, then so is everyone are assholes. Someone must be the nice person around in these parts so the cycle of douchebaggery does not gush within a circular circle. Lest it gush with vast amounts of gushing hate all around. Really now, he looked at her behind with his shaded eyes, and didn't really find her offending to him, but was fascinating. Then again, he is fascinated with pretty much everyone he comes across because he is a fascinated person himself. Mostly because he is DEAD BORED. Doesn't help that his emotions are sucked out of him for some reason and he is becoming a colorless individual slowly and slowly, but AH WELL, shit happens, and what can someone do? Anyways, he looked at her, and would've done a gushing somersault, but it is inappropriate in a place like this.

[Xerath]

"Kay, I'll be sure to watch out for those people because nobody can actually kill me. I should know, I actually killed a demon before."

"..What?" Panne looked at him through slits. Was he pulling her leg? Was he actually serious? Maybe he hit his head, but nonetheless apparently he killed a demon? Well that wasn't the weird part. In common society a lot of people could kill demons. It was more the fact he had just blurted that out. As if ritualists didn't have enough trouble in staying undercover, they had maniacs screaming that sort of stuff. That's how Templars often found then. Maybe this man was actually an assassin! Not that anyone would want Panne dead, because she was rarely even seen. It wasn't as if she'd summoned a demon anyways. That left her low and unregistered by templars.. for now.

The man proceeded to introduce himself, but a blasted horn blared in her ears and nearly made her deaf. IDIOTS! This is one of the many reasons she hated humans. How inconsiderate. Her eyes came to the man before her. She didn't know his name, nor did she really care. This was likely a man that she'd meet once and then her too would fade away in her mind. What was the point in remembering the name of a soon-to-be-faceless mind. In fact the reason she responded was beyond her. "Panne." She spoke quietly, maybe he wouldn't hear. In her mind, she could hear her own sarcastic snark. Hope you're good at reading lips. She figured that this man was probably one of those strange men who played video games all day. He definitely didn't look the same as her, so that was not an option, but out of the 'goodness of her heart', she decided to humor him with minor conversation. This Aravad man was strange. Very strange to her.

[Aravad]

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he contemplated upon the Panne name which gushed of the mythological connections towards Pan's Labyrinth for some reason. But then again, that was a movie he saw once in Spain, and has nothing to do with Greek mythology gushing with sheer lore about Greek stuff.

"Nice name. By the way since you told me who you are, I guess I can show you what I can do." He flicked his fingers and produced life unto his thumb, floating above, fire lit as if it were nothing. Like a match inches away from his finger, so it wouldn't singe it. Then again, it couldn't singe it even though it would be close to it, because he is immune to his own flames... probably. He never tested it out, but who cares. Point is, he can make flames. He puffed the finger flame out.

Yep, he was that good at keeping his magical prowess a secret. Gushing out with it and whatnot. Such a lovely word that, probably Panne loves the word gush. She seems like the sort of gal to actually like the word gush COMPLETELY and absolutely in every single way possible. Yep.

"I've been able to do this ever since I left my home country, Norway. It comes pretty convenient, kept me warm in Winter times, that, and I didn't need to use microwaves to heat my burritos. Pretty convenient. Strange thing is, I feel like this isn't exactly my powers but borrowed, but meh, who knows?" He shrugs.

[Xerath]

This man had to be trying to get her killed. Why the hell was he- FIRE?! Panne's eyes widened and she stepped backwards, thinking he was going to assault her with the flame. Luckily, she was simply assuming things, but it didn't change her mind. This man was insane probably. She couldn't deny the possibilities, but likely he was either a demon hunter or a ritualist, because he was definitely not a templar. He looked and acted nothing like one and well, templars were pretty easy to tell from a distance. They stuck out like a sore thumb and most had more crosses on their body than a basic goth.

He explained that his powers were of an unknown source which, alarmed Panne extremely. Maybe he WAS a templar incognito. As unlikely as it seemed, his blatant careless attitude was almost as worrying as a person simply skipping over and offering her cocaine. It HAD to be a trap. She didn't even look like a coke-addict. Wait- that wasn't the point, actually. She wasn't sure WHAT to make of the man. He went on about how convenient it was. Did he do this often? Just go up to random people and talk about his ability to start fires? Obviously that had some flaw-logic because SOMEONE would eventually catch on and turn him in. It wouldn't be her; she didn't care enough.

"I ... see." That was all she could form in her words. A correct phrase wasn't forming, it just sat jumbled in her mind. "[/color]Hm. So what makes you think I'd care?[/color]" At last, she could speak something she meant. "I'm just a stranger to you. How do you know I won't have you burned at the stake?"

[Aravad]

He smiled at her rather astonished bewilderment in the face of the unknown. People whom faced the strange and the bizarre are often thrown off from their otherwise mundane affairs. It is a sociological result of something that does not exactly equates within their expectation and operates entirely outside of their perceptions that truly performs such feats of alienation. Typically. Serendipity had occurred in the most auspicious of occasions as the air of melancholy passed thus and apathy no longer deigned supremacy within the inner cranium of Aravad, the Despoiler, the wizard. Greatest handler of all that is arcane and infernal, that whose powers were granted by the COSMOS, that which was above... and he is also someone with a degree in communication, minor in women's studies and art, but HE IS A DOCTOR based on the highest power available to GRANT.

Anyways, apparently nobody found it weird that his ambiguously white hair do does not baffle anyone CONSIDERING how natural it looks, his trench coat that makes him look like some sort of a closet pedophile or rapist isn't weird either, OR the fact that his shades that enhance such perceptions AREN'T exactly keen on striking him such as a person of perverted antiquated means of purveying his hobbies. How progressive society is to cast such people like himself to be but a person of fashion, belonging not to a caste of degenerates but merely in regards to his own appearance that does he dwell with such innovations in appearance and daring bravado, dare he say himself.

"Behold, a contradiction." He would start off calmly in his sobriety as always, "You wouldn't report me because you don't care. You said so yourself, why go through the extra length to cast me aside to such non-existent authorities to be punished by a non-existent force? I doubt I'd fall under punishment for I have not committed any crimes... in this country. My only crime is being guilty of being born... different." What a strange woman she was, not caring and yet caring enough for society's well being to try to present such a scenario.

[Xerath]

Well.. he had a point.. as much as she hated to admit it. HATED to admit it. In fact, Panne hated when anything happened that bothered her and this man was a thing that bothered her. He was asking why she thought the way she thought and pointed out the flaws. She didn't want to hear it! Naturally the truth was painful, but it was irritating as well. She didn't need to know she cared. Nor did she need to know that this man noticed. He was likely an asylum escapee, which meant she SHOULD turn him in, but what was the point?

"So." She finally blurted. Her eyes were venomous as they looked at the man sternly. "Do you randomly show off your magic tricks everyday? Or do you just seek out the poor sorry saps you find on the street? Are you some kind of Con artist? Do you pray on the weak because it makes you feel better about yourself? Or are you so full of yourself you believe to be invincible?" She scrunched up her nose and turned her head. "[color=darkcyan]On second thought, I don't even care. Why don't you leave me alone and go find someone who does?" Her posture was slightly passive aggressive and yet she made no movements to leave. A strange moment where she enjoyed the fact that someone had noticed she was even there, if only a minute.

However most of the time these attentions were fake. A person who only wanted it for themselves, and sought strangers just to be acknowledged. That wasn't her. Unless you spoke to her, Panne did not speak. She was just a shadow.. a fleeting shell of a person.

[Aravad]

Reaching for his coat, he rummages through the contents of his clothing menacingly, grasping for something. It was then he unfurled it as if it were a blur, a cylindrical object that could kill a man from just one shot, or many. For a moment, it looked like a pistol, and he pointed the end of said tube-like object towards Panne's face... only to put it in his mouth, flick his thumb underneath and light up his cigarillo, the flames like a match bringing his cancer stick to life with the embers roaring softly in a hiss. Inhaling the death stick and exhaling the smoke outward into the crowds around, enveloping around as the smoke began to spread into the air and disperse within mother nature's confines.

Oh wait. He didn't light up a smoke or do any of that. In fact, he doesn't even carry a cigarillo, and has horrible smoking habits. Can't even handle his liquor or take a cigarette smoke. Something about it disagreed with him. And so went forth vocals from the opposite in gender and direction that of the feminine one, standing filled with pride and self-imposed haughtiness wrought with sheer fakeness. Comprehension ferried forth unto Aravad's eyes, bringing about understanding of what paradoxes gushing abundant from her form, conveyed in such communicative oral mannerism of hers that one would say most nuanced, and thus his optics that be his eyes never once lifted from her otherwise unseemly form.

He tilted his head to the side, slightly, "For someone who doesn't care, you sure care an awful lot about my motives, Miss Panne." He pushes the rim of his shades up, "As for me approaching poor saps, the weak, and those that I deem prey... I honestly don't know why you would assume such things unless what you cast of yourself in such definitions of the word. To bring up to light such specific verbs and nouns in regards to my modus operandi. You haven't actually... come across the unknown like I have... have you by any chance? To see the unseen... traverse that which is denied to others...? If you know of such circumstances and indeed if you do, then that can indeed answer what quandaries you wonder of my means to illuminate the arcane and impossible."

[Xerath]

SO he got her again. She couldn't not care if she was asking questions. Though, she admitted to herself only that she was just without anything else to say to the man. She was in an odd situation where the man knew her oddly enough.. or seemed to know. His words were so strange and placed in a way that Panne wasn't exactly sure how to respond. WHY was he bothering her? Did he just want to mess with her because he was bored? That was the likeliest of options. Her eyes narrowed again and she was silent a moment. Turning away, she sniffed and scoffed as if his words meant nothing. As if HE meant nothing. So he could call out that she cared up and down, but she refused to believe it.

The jealousy began to eat at her. That secret pain in her stomach that made it hard to breathe. Why couldn't she be carefree like this man? Why did she have to trudge around as if she were chained up. Self pity was a problem, but not one she knew she even had. It was more the lack of anything stable: the lack of life that brought Panne around such strange people. What had he said? The world unknown? Was he speaking of demons? It seemed possible.. but how did she know he wasn't a demon hunter? "And if I did? Would it matter?" She stared at him, hard and unfeeling. Not even unfeeling, but blankly: a void. "Such a world is a fine line to dance on and only the brave or idiots wander there." Then which was she?

[Aravad]

The crowds went about abundant in their mass and bulk, and yet lay a slit that be what space widespread between the two being man of white and a woman of unknown descent. Probably Greek? Who knows? He certainly never heard the name Panne in his life. It sounds a lot like a pan, except she isn't a pan. Who would name someone after a pan anyways? Now if only his parents named him after a tiger or a lion, that'd be awesome as fuck. Regardless, internal monologues aside, once again assailed him be the words shrill and cold like Norway's winters, and yet truly he went places in this dialogue that's come upon the two, traded back and forth bantering over the finer points of motivations and perhaps a little dab of philosophy. His emotions were distant, and like that he was immune to her attempts to turn him away, he is far too incensed with emotional distancing, a supernatural affliction that plagues him thus with lesser mirth than usual more so.

Once again he pushes the rim of his shades up, even though there was a need to. The shades shine from what light that reflects from it, illuminating a sheen as he stares at the woman in further does he withstand the brunt of her talks, does the riposte ensue thus as a result. "Not everyone has that choice to trespass the realm forbidden and foreboding, alien and inhospitable to mankind. Sometimes... people like me are forced to, so in a manner of speaking, yes, it matters. Are you like me per chance? Where such things are thrust upon you without your consent? Like I say earlier... I was born different. A connection longs there that I cannot get rid of, my dreams are not my own, and neither is my persona."

Calm; he scratches his ass harmlessly, coming upon his conclusion, "I knew that I wasn't the only person out here that was different. There was no way I was the only one here that was robbed of their spiritual freedom..."

[Xerath]

What was that? Panne looked at him with a frown. He was... spiritual? A religious man? No.. that didn't make sense. He didn't seem like that. It was then that she felt a slip of something strange in her body. Something unwelcome and foreign. A voice that bubbled, because apparently the world didn't hate her enough.

"Awee you're so sweet, kyaaa~" What.. the hell had just happened. She pushed her hands behind her back and smiled widely. "Saying that we're one in the same! It's such a small little sweet and wonderful world." Her lips were pulled into a smile. A fucking SMILE. Her eyes lit up and she laughed about it..

Until she took back control. The hell had just happened? Panne couldn't recall ever having a sort of thing like that happening before. She covered her mouth and glared at herself. what.. the actual.. hell?

[Aravad]

He has murdered before a student, and found himself utterly revolted at how easy it was, and how he didn't feel anything from it. He has come to flee from the police, felt barely any thrill from that. He has walked a couple of times in Infernis, and in those times felt any feelings of mirth or rather dread. There were several moments where he should've felt something and yet kept a calm cool head, and yet nothing had occurred out of it to even inspire the vaguest of emotions out of him. Aye, Aravad was that hardcore. But before him what he has seen is something that can be composed within one single word.

"What."

He stared at her, BLINKED several times at what display thus forth made before him in a madness that clutches her cranium.

...

......

.........

There was no explanation for it. He was at a loss for words. This was one of those rare moments he showed actual surprise.

"I believe... that fit of madness was but a claim of otherworldly forces upon your... psyche?" He questioned, unsure if she is back to her wits about or still rife with a mad brain.

[Xerath]

Panne's face was bright red. That was probably the most embarrassing moment ever for her. There was an awkward silence after. The kind that Panne could feel herself die inside because of. Or she would die inside if there was something there. Instead, there was a silence: an awkward silence. The man was staring at her. Why did he have to stare? It made it impossible to play as if nothing had happened. Couldn't she pretend that nothing had happened? To pretend hat no strange possession had happened at one of the least practical of moments. She couldn't blame his disbelief really, because the response that had come from her mouth was very un-Panne-like. She hated the words cute and wonderful and would be damned if she had ever used them willingly.

He asked her a question that was hard to respond to. Naturally though, it left her with the choices: Either you're crazy or you're a ritualist who is also crazy. Her eyes narrowed with anger but not at him, and instead at the beast that was no longer there. In all she could remember (not that it was long), she couldn't recall ever having been in such an awkward situation ever before.

Panne didn't know exactly how to speak for a minute or two. He wanted an answer and yet she found herself unsure how to continue or even WHY she was worried about the obviously insane man's opinion anyways. However, she caught herself speaking anyways. "Yes." It was short and sweet, involving her awkward shifting. "I uhm.. that's never happened before." Her eyes shifted away from him; never making eye contact.

[Aravad]

The mantra of madness rung as Aravad found himself assailed by a most peculiar visage upon the face of the fair dame before him. What was once like ice now melted before the passions of insanity. Doubtless to say she is not all there is to say an inconsolable lady, but rather that of deeper meanings perhaps? He divined and deciphered such things by obviousness for none do that are one sided, nay, for much has reflected from within, much like he, and much like all else that he has come to experience. Depths unexplored and yet, interests are held thus nonetheless withdrawing what reservations he had of the earlier outburst she held, as ill boding as it may be.

Time passed on what were minutes seemed like hours, or so it seemed. Whomever came up with such an idea for time being so slow must've been defunct and redundant in the department of cranial cognition, or so Aravad surmised. Silence brought up and yet he had divined it all thus. Her head averted her gaze from the Norwegian, that upon doing so, she would find herself even closer to the Norwegian as he made himself advance forth upon a couple of steps until they were inches apart. Staring at her very intently, as his nostrils flared up. Inhaling the scent from her living corpse/body.

"Rejoice, for I have deciphered indeed you suffer no demonic possession symptoms. It is perhaps a most troubling thought as to ascertain on what had beholden you with the madness, thus imbuing such insanity upon yourself, Miss Panne." He stretched out his hands, and then pushed the rim of his shades upwards, "Or perhaps what afflicted you is beyond what I can divine, or of a different nature most supernatural. Often times these gambles occur on a cosmological scales in which those that play the die, weigh it upon your own psyche, and it seems perhaps yours would be that of the lost. FOOD FOR THOUGHT."

He turns around and steps forth, staring outward into the great beyond crowd that is yonder, "Now commit that to memory, and always recall thus that an open mind is a fortress unbarred and left open."

[Xerath]

The man was invading her space while being only a couple inches away. Eyes narrowed to slits; accusing and unsure whether to take this man as a threat or to pass him off as a a madman. Who could so casually just dismiss a thought of possession? Unless he was darker than he seemed? However, she wasn't about to just outwards ask if the man was a ritualist, because that made no sense and was in a way quite rude. Beisdes, she'd convinced herself that she didn't care, despite obviously caring. A useless loop she repeatedly lived in where she was in such a state of loss and confusion that nothing really made sense.

His nostrils flared and he spoke a long-winded speech. Why did HE care? It was illogical: a conundrum lost to her. It was as if he was warning her, which in a vague way she supposed it was true, but she couldn't help feeling empty. There was something missing and a part of such was her memories. Was it truly blameless? Or was it a stain on life? How long would this plague affect her?

She was wordless a moment, almost breathless in her loss of knowing. She couldn't gain any idea of what really to say or think. "I- uhm.. see." Her words were a bit blank, as was her stare. It was out of her own mind she spoke rather swiftly after. "How do you know all this?"

[Aravad]

Further talks filtered through his ear lobes bringing about the knowledge to which is in question, as to the how he does, not the why or the when or the what, but the most pivotal of all which is the how. He tapped unto his chin in forethought of the what of the how, dwelling upon it and yet incensed by his surrounding ever so lucidly. He had come to experience far more dealings with Demons and all that in the past, all of them offering tempting offers and all refused, and yet he could not help but be drawn to a specific essence that not be of anything but a demon he could never reach, that at the same time repulsed him. A memory he remembers quite clearly as the feeling still lingers on and there.

"Experience be my teacher that taught me such possibilities exist, to extend my horizons far beyond what is and is not possible made real by what one could never imagine, Miss Panne." The explanation sufficed for now, he had no qualms about her memories and little all else even passivity when questioned about it, "Thine is that of shadows, a lack of illumination, that in my experience is the chicanery of infernal ones most oft their modus operandi, similar symptoms experienced by those left lingering with the stigma soul rots to those such as myself that I find myself debating perhaps unto you likewise afflicts you such? That perhaps in this game of charades of ours, you have a glimmer and faintest recollection of... such things? Truly, even I know not where my troubles start and where they end as all else whom are in my shoes do."

He flicked his fingers, lighting his thumb as fire kindled above, casting aside all shades, "Illuminate, for yours is that of uncertainty that much I discern, but no more no less am I educated in such matters, unless you wish to enlighten me? I have skills that many have come to fancy be it of lore, or otherwise less than savory things society keeps well to hide. out of view in this masquerade we all struggle to keep aloft, verily." He flicked the fire to a halt, extinguishing forever from the light of day, the cattle that pronged in two always ignorant, never the wiser of what took place as they continued their merry way to do their mundane things that almost had made Aravad smirk, almost. He found it hard to stomach making any sorts of displays of emotions, it was fake and not there simply, diluted like a color robbed of its hues.

"Forever in shadows may we be clad, forever we persevere the true path." He muttered in a raspy and whispering tone, a tongue unpleasing to mortals and that of enemy of mankind itself.

[Xerath]

Again, Panne was stricken with speechless moments.  Her amber eyes were slightly confused, but at the same time understanding.  His words were complex and obviously he was well trained in the world and further versed than she, and such skills were slowly beginning to melt the icy shield around her a bit.  The tension was dying away, perhaps that was true affect of his fire and this was all a plan, but somehow she doubted it.  The feeling was strange to relax, if only a little.  When was the last time her breathing wasn't a hateful growl?  It still wasn't quite the same as a human's but it would do.

Her breath hitched in her throat while she fished for a thought to portray, or rather, a response to his words.  This conversation had started so superfluous and yet now, here she was having something close to a normal conversation with a man she barely knew.  Even through the angry phrases and insults, he was simply battering at her mind with explanations.  What was further strange, was the fact Panne was finding this man's company enjoyable- something she'd not experienced for as long as she could remember.  Wonder filled her mind momentarily with the thoughts crossing.  Gently, an ache pushed into her head, but for once not something irrationally painful that made her angry.  This was an okay feeling.  Confusion was okay.  

"No." Was that really all she could manage at the moment?  The disappointment on her face bid more frustration.  She was human, why couldn't she talk to other humans as well.

Because you aren't human..

A voice boredly entertained her mind with a lackadaisical sneer.  It was something familiar and not.  Be it memory or not, it made her head ache more, so she let it be forgotten once more.  Once her pained eyes had adjusted back to normal, they rose back to the man with the slightest hint of complacence.

"I couldn't give many ideas.  I can hardly remember anything from where I've been to where I am."  Not like that had much of an affect.  Of course she wasn't completely sure what he was exactly getting at.  She closed her eyes and sighed heavily, but at the same time it felt lighter than the last hours.  Upon reflection her words were almost humorous.  Her next question was a 'Now what?' She refrained from speaking it, since it was an awkward situation for her and yet at the same time it wasn't.

Then realization had hit her.  A phrase was spoken in words that made her tense completely.  What was further shocking was that she understood the words and language almost immediately.  Her whole body was tense when she looked around paranoid.  Where were the templars waiting to cut her throat open and bleed her dry for being near this man?  Her voice was a harsh whisper, almost scolding him.  "Are you trying to get killed?"

Why do you care? A voice asked in her head, which caused a slight recoil in her nerves.  A good question, but she found no answer to it.  In fact, she was pretty helpless for the response.  Words were at a loss and her mouth was left agape without a smart response to give.  Again, the question repeated and her inner mind fought with a quick 'I don't', while the devil on her shoulder whispered the sweet truth in a dark tune. You do.  

[Aravad]

The task at hand had made itself clear as he had come to benefit from what coaxed reactions heralded thus onward his very visage, his shaded eyes apathetically gazing at the woman with curiousity over all as she has come to understand the tongue of the damned and the infernal perhaps? Or perhaps it were that she has knowledge of it? The former is suggested than the latter as the cosmos played its dice and Aravad wagered it so on such inclinations. The similarities are only superficial, and only parallel in what stigmas were bestowed, a robbery of sorts that he recalls very alike what some symptoms suffered thus Aravad. He made a fake smile at the notion he, Aravad, would be killed for uttering a phrase forbidden and verboten alike hand in hand, vis a vis. He was not worried about the Templars, there are far too many grounds to cover, and far too little time to cover them all. Better yet, he knows not of the Templars for never had he come across the order and their splendid hapless attempts to end his life, his only enemy that being demons with sensual offers of power that he had come across a couple of times, and the far more grimmer realities of humans harrying one another to take unrightfully what is not theirs.

"Quite unlikely, the odds cosmologically speaking do not favor such a scenario illicit by..." He paused, "What exactly was the variable in question that shall invite attempts to end my life? As I do not believe I have flirted with lady death herself, though lovely she may be, and always by my side, that she believe me cheating on her would turn on me instead and render her woman's wrath like hell that which hath no fury compared to hers." He spoke truly in his metaphorical manner he does, the demonic tongue, he, unaware of its repercussions, escaped his vast perception. The crowd around grew thinner and thinner like a river stream running out of water to flow as deeper night began to claim the scope of the land, and not all dare venture into darkness, for not all understand it encompasses all, always.

He bade no thoughts or fostered them of the change in her expression, dull and deaf to what changes kindled as Miss Panne before him shall always be a constant. Giving no heed to what changes of emotions or what pained expression for what emotionless stature always settled unto her, but pivotally, Aravad did not feel the two were alike in symptoms, only alike in that what caused such things, hence the boundaries exist and separate the two in regards to these things.

"BUT! Thoughts aside of unimportant matters such as death do me part, that, Miss Panne, over what lingering seeping loss of memories is the affliction of the infernal ones, those that cometh before us. There is no cure to this hungry void as far as I know of it, aside from perhaps reaching your roots? Even that I know not of what curative treatment availed the victim, for never had I encountered or experienced such cases such as these specifically, and still they remain... unresolved or unknown to myself." He pushed the rims of his deeper, stepping to her side as he takes pace, "The night beckons, and I dare believe we stood here long enough. Much grounds are to be covered, in such little time, as a tempest brews in the air, and these are favored times of the Others."

[Xerath]

Talking to this man made Panne feel out of place.. or even in the wrong time. He was something out of Shakespeare. His words were poetry and almost hypnotizing, but she felt like she needed a translator. Each sentence was a sort of hit and miss that made her wonder what exactly he was eluding at. However, at the same time, she felt almost sort of attracted to it. Why she didn't just walk away was becoming slowly obvious. She wanted answers- and this man- though as quizzical as he was to her, seemed to be home to knowing.

Wisdom came with age, it seemed. He did look a few years older than her, but that wasn't relevant to anything at the moment. The way he held himself; without fear and pretty much a body of confidence. There was that pang. The bitter stab of jealousy grasped at her stomach and gnawed at her. She wanted that confidence- that lack of fear. Would it be ignorance? She couldn't be sure, since she was ignorant to her whole life. Wouldn't that make her far more so than he?

He mentioned something about the night then seemed to want her to follow. There came the question- should she follow this man she barely knew into the night or not? In all honesty a normal person would say no, but Panne was far from normal. Or rather, she was normal in most aspects but corrupted by the sinful feelings of man. Her eyes followed him and soon her feet took their hint and began to trudge behind silently. "Where are we going?" She asked. The question was simple enough. It would simply be up to fate if this man were some murderer or not, but hell- what did she have to lose, really?

[Aravad]

Aravad looked around with knowledge of the place, surveying his surrounding with profound understanding as he rubbed his cheek, calculating the distance of the streets and what have you. He was on the peak of an epiphany, as a block twice crossed forth in their pace as he took his sweet time to compile an answer, would push the rim of his shades back to his follower now made anew. Be it literal or figuratively, whichever suits him so without heavy consequences.

"To say I am enlightened of the where would be equivalent to finding a pin in a haystack," He revealed in his calm demeanor that seems to be a rather permanent feature of himself, "To iterate, my ideas are all for naught, for I have none. Actually I know not of this place, or any beneficial dwelling that may act to our advantage so..."

Aravad turns around, all dramatic like, his shades shined, as he pushed the rim up his nasal bridge as he habitually does, and looks at the woman filled with insecurities like a Windows 8, though Windows XP was perfect. It gushed with perfections. There was nothing wrong with it, but the requirement to make a profit far outweighed the need to be sustained by perfection made manifest itself. Alas, the fates are cruel upon the human race, as they are to the fair maiden before him, so warped he can only wallow in ignorance to her affliction, aside from scant realizations. Anyways...

"Perhaps you may know a place in which the commitment to security far outweighs the danger of solitude? To take the passion of responsibility in my stead? For our numbers that as sapiens are vulnerable to those that prey upon whomever, wherever, whenever. Homo Nosferatus... vampires spawns." He explained, as he pulled out a pamphlet from his coat, "I got my knowledge from an occult gathering, it was rather informative."

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