The OC Above is Hired to Assassinate Your OC.[IC]

Nayla took a shaky breath while eying the in front of her. Cautios she took a step back, falling into an defense stance. "D-did... did Janus sent you?", she asked and slowly laid her hand on one of her poisoned throwing knifes. She swore to herself, that she would never kill anybody again. But if this man really was sent by Janus, then she was in great danger. And as much as she hated it, then she needed to kill him. "A-answer me please...", her voice was quite and almost got swallowd by the wind.

The half-elf tried to remember the face of that man, but her memory of that time was in a fog. The drug abuse only left a few clear pictures. And in none of them was that man. Maybe she made an misstake and he wasn't sent by Janus? But... who else would like to see her dead? "I-I don't want to kill you... I... I just try to live my new life....please" While trying to talk her way out, nayla didn't noticed how her inner demons were trying to get out. It wouldn't take much time anymore, then she would lose her mind again and become the killing mashine she was trained to be....

Sol didn't know who in the world would send an assassin after him- but it didn't really matter. From the looks of it, it didn't seem like this creature... person... thing... was really capable of doing much. Frankly, he had a hard time believing that this little girl was actually capable of hurting him even in the slightest. But he knew better than to underestimate his enemies. Doing so would be considered a rookie mistake. You never know what cute faces were really capable of. 

She had been chanting something- something about papayas, while he had been silently contemplating his move. Would it be too savage of him to finish things right here and then? Nevertheless, he decided to simply question the lady first. There was no point in beating around the bush. 

"How do you plan on getting rid of me?"

Merylith raised an eyebrow, disbelief crossing her face. "I'm honestly sorry but, when I heard the news 'bout someone being sent here to kill me I expected them to be much more..." She trailed off as her mouth opened and closed, trying to figure out what to say. "How do I say this... larger? Deadlier looking? But ya know, looks can be deceiving, so it works for you." After a few more moments, she shook her head, standing up from her resting spot to stretch her arms out. Joke around a bit, compliment the enemy, lower the guard - then strike. "Anyways.. 'm not gonna go down without a fight. Probably not gonna easy on ya either. Can't let my guard down too much around you. " Merylith shrugged her shoulders before she cracked her neck, drawing her sword in one fluid motion. "Last chance kid, go home before ya get hurt."

(aaa i hope this is okay ;;; still trying to get used to writing stuff in character y'know? she's more of like,,,,haha lets talk blease ill lower your guard down n then try to persuade you to go away even though she tries to act tough to scare them off.,,,.)

---

oh no bby ;;;;

Assassinate? Lawrence wasn't sure if that was even possible- for him to die, that is. He'd never done anything particularly dangerous to test out the limits of his undeadness, so he was unsure what would happen to him if he were to get wounded, mortally or not. Temperature did not affect him, hunger was a thing of the past, but what would a sword do if it were speared through his stomach? Although, it would appear that the armour-clad woman's oncoming attempt to murder the boy did not affect him as much as the fact that she was a woman. Pale hair resembled that of the ghostly figure that haunted his waning memories only served to send more fear coursing through the poor zombie boy. He was not putting up much of any sort of fight; as soon as the woman had approached him with such aggressive intentions as to murder him he crumpled to the ground and threw his arms over his head, laboured breaths wheezing from his dead lungs. He was shaking like a leaf, and muttering something so softly under his breath it would take one to press their ear close to his lips to hear.

"Stop it, mama..."

He didn't seem like an assassin. Chance watched Lawrence warily, grip tightening on their own knife, a zombie wasn't exactly going to be a target they could easily defend against. Sure, they were dead themselves, but their bracelet wasn't exactly the strongest of objects. It wouldn't be out of the question if it was accidentally damaged or broken in the conflict to come, especially in an inevitably drawn out fight between themselves and Lawrence. They hated to admit it, but Chance was more than a bit nervous. Undead, especially zombies were just too unpredictable for their liking. He might seem sluggish, but that could be a front, it was impossible to say until Chance found out for sure. If possible, they would have liked to avoid that entirely.

"Look, let's not do this. We're both already dead, we're not going to get anywhere with this. I'm not hurting anyone like this, we don't have to fight." Chance hesitated for a moment, before pocketing their knife and extending a hand to Lawrence, offering a grin despite their unease. It wouldn't hurt to try a more peaceful method first. "You seem like a nice guy, and like you've got a reasonable head on your shoulders. What did they offer you in exchange for this? I can't imagine you need money for anything, so maybe we could work something out."

It didn't hurt to try to work it out at least.

Charlotte stopped fifteen feet away from Chance, gazing at them with an empty expression. A bubbly grin on their lips despite the dripping knife they waved around so carelessly. They were young, too; must have been in high school. But if there was one thing Charlotte had learned about the world of assassins, it was to never trust anyone from looks alone. And this person? There was a definite bloodlust emanating from them.
"I do not know how you found me, and I do not care. If you plan to get in my way from my mission then I will be forced to stop you." She lifted one hand, slowly removing the black glove to reveal a handgun, aiming it at Chance with a steady hand.
There was something off about the teen, Charlotte noted. Something amidst that bloodlust. What was it...?

It had started off just like any other morning. Drowsy, but happy nonetheless. She was tending to the flowers and other potted plants on display before, suddenly, she was interrupted by a young woman with long blue hair coming in through the door. Luvee was rather unassuming of this new face at first. After all, she had seemed like just another customer. Blissfully naive of the things to come or the things to be, the florist had stepped forward to welcome her, "Good morning, welcome to-"
In an instant, before she could even finish her thought, the mood in the air changed to stiff and terrifying. Before she knew it there was a gun pointed at her, locked and loaded read to fire in a heartbeat. It had to be all a dream, right? Luvee dropped her bucket of pink carnations in horror at the sight of the barrel. There was no way in hell that something like this was actually happening, right?

Luvee was terrified at the prospect of moving in pure unadulterated fear of what would happen if she made any sudden moves. No matter what she thought, she couldn't get her lips to move to say anything to this assassin at all. Would it even make a difference if she said anything? All she could do was stare like a deer in headlights at that cold and calculating gaze. No matter how hard her heart was pounding and screaming at her to move, run, or do anything to get the hell out of there. She can't dodge a bullet.

Altair was busy. really busy. He was juggling about 10 calls at once, all filled with hopeless idiots looking for "Job opportunities" and "interviews!"

He wandered through the underground tunnels he had set up to get around the city, marveling at his own work on the bright green, glowing lights as he talked through his last call, getting into a particularly ferocious argument with a few of the people on the other line.

As he walked, Altair felt a buzz on his left arm, and lifted his arm to;

[[ UNAUTHORIZED ]]

[[ INTRUDER DETECTED ]]

Altair sighed. Just what he needed, not in his killing gear nor in a good position to fight back against whatever had just entered the tunnels.

Pocketing his phone, he slowly drew in a deep breath, taking out his signature melting gun, watching it emit a soft glow in the sudden dark, created as to slow down whoever had breached the tunnels.

"Let's just get this over with."

A humanoid, their arm twisted into some gruesome mess... How interesting. And who had sent them?

Mostly unphased, he walked up towards the zombie, hoping his height was enough to intimidate it. "Hello there...", he said, "And who are you?"

He felt something grab his arm, and without thinking he kicked the creature to the floor. "Not today. Not now. Clever of you to find me unarmored though."

--

Altair is confused as to how Haima got in, but is always prepared if anyone were to try to assassinate them.

“I don’t know who you are,” Batsu stood his ground. “But I don’t think you’re here for an autograph. And you certainly don’t look like the rocker type.”

His home was sparse, save for the couch he was sitting on, and the stranger in the doorway. Two of Batsu’s hands were holding a book, the other two crossed across his chest. He set down his reading material and slowly stood, staring the man dead in the eye with four of his own.

He was holding a gun. But a bizarre kind of gun, with a glowing tip. Batsu wasn’t going to assume this meant it was safer.

Slowly, he put up his hands. “Please,” he said, trying to keep his voice from quivering. His cool facade dropped when he thought of Alice, his kid— what would happen to them without him? “Don’t do this. I don’t know who sent you, but please— don’t do this to me. What—“ he swallowed. “What did I do?”

Red doesn’t go well with purple. If Batsu’s eyes were open, that would have been his last thought.

Vincent turned at a clatter in his lab, surprised as he came face to face with a strange looking purple-haired man. He knew who the man was, that's for sure, but he didn't know what he wanted. Well, that was until he saw the look on his face. Eyes cold, set and staring at him like he was....going to kill him. He'd seen that look before, almost used it himself once or twice. Nobody has that look and isn't homicidal.

Upon seeing the man didn't appear to have any weapons on him, his eyebrows rose. "What, forget to bring a gun?" He snorted. "What are you gonna do, beat me to death with a guitar?"

It took him a split second to realise there was blood pouring out of a wound in his neck, where the man had jammed a broken test tube into his jugular.

Raising his hands to his neck, he sputtered out a curse, and spat blood out on the floor.

Did you know it takes six seconds to bleed out from a slit throat?

Not that he counted, but those were the longest six seconds of Vincent's life.

"Oh dear, what unfortunate day it is~" The girl whined not really paying attention to a man weren't that good. "In the morning i lost my favorite lipstick-" Esoterin started listing all the misfurtunes that had happened to her walking back and forth. It seemed she didn't care about the man who was there to kill her at all. "In the afternoon someone spilled their coffee on my favorite dress! And now!" She made a dramatic pause. The angel finally looked her assassin in the eyes. For some reason he was just standing doing nothing. Maybe he was waiting for the girl to finish her final speech? "And now!! Such a handsome man is here to kill me!! What a terrible day!!" The angel exclaimed and stomped her feet, her hands on the waist and wings shaking nervously. "Oh if only you were younger~" She cried. "We would not have to fight! We could spend so much time together drinking expensive wine(or whatever you prefer) smoking and just talking about everything! We would love each other!" Esoterin raised her hand dramatically rolling her eyes, it looked like she could continue this ridiculous performance forever, and god knew she would, however the knife's rapid swing made her stop. "So we really have to fight, huh~? Well, show me all you've got, handsome! Im an angel you know, so i won't be a very easy target heh~"

"Leave me alone, jeez!" Ethan griped as he tried to walk away from the woman that was hot on his heels. She came out of nowhere! And to... to bully him! She just kept making snarky remarks about him, making it sound like she was on the phone telling a friend. Talking about the way he walked, or the way he was dressed. Didn't help that his bad luck caused him to trip over his shoelaces a couple times.
Man, but the more she bullied him the more he start to feel his esteem drop. This was real disheartening. If she was going to assassinate him then he'd rather her just do it instead of picking on him first!
This had to be payback for spilling his drink on that other woman long ago. The one following him was probably sent by her, wasn't she?

Bumpity-Bump-Bump! 

(skip me please.)