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

(well. I'll to revive this thread too xd)

"H-hey dude, let's talk it o-over.." A few beads of cold sweat were dripping down Alaire's forehead as she was making small steps back with her hands help up high in a gesture showing no intent to fight unless her back met a wall. "Shit!" The angel hissed. She was left with no options of fleeing, so the only logical solution was to fight that assassin bear. Only the thought of fighting him made Alaire shiver fr some reason. Well, everyone who was acquainted with Alaire for more than 2 days knew she was a strong fighter, but at that moment she didn't have any weapon with herself(Camilla insisted that Ala shouldn't walk around armed with a bat or she might scare someone, so she hid all Ala's weapon, but what would she say now, when Ala's life was in grave danger?!) and using magic wasn't a great option either, as she hadn't used it in a fight in like..10 years or whatever, she had other things to think about. Something about that bear guy just made her so uneasy, maybe it was his completely insane gaze? You never know what to expect from a psycho like him after all. "Well..." The angel sighed. "It seems i have no other options but to fight, yeah?" Alaire let out a dry laugh taking a fighting stance. After all, Alaire hated to lose without even trying more than anything else. "C'mon man, show me what ya got!"

"my my" were the first words that left hanako's lips as he felt the presence of an unknown creature behind him. turning around, the smaller male simply smiled up at the other. his sword wasn't by his side but he still had his dagger strapped to his thigh, and the poisonous needles on his wrists. he doubt they'll work on this... thing though. they didn't appear to be a demon, more of an angel in fact. hm, strange. he decided to ignore the fact though. hearing the other speak up, hanako finally decided that the other was a fae- with an awfully pretty voice. clapping his hands together, hana pouted. "it's a shame to get rid of such a pretty thing like you" he didn't sound sorry at all. more of the opposite actually. "you don't blame me right? it was simply self defense" and just as the sentence left his lips, hanako lowered himself to the ground before dashing to the side. he felt his hand touch the handle of his propped up sword and he gracefully unsheathed it. letting the weapon dance between his hands, the smaller smiled angelically, no sense of fear or anything leaving him. "oh! i know. i won't kill you darling, don't worry. i'll just cut off your limbs so you can never do this again, yeah? don't worry. it's simply a punishment!" pointing the blade at the taller fae, he continued to purr, the words rolling off his tongue gently, "let's both do our best! i really do hope we can be friends after this little... dance."

What fun.

He already had that strange feeling that someone was following him, but a DEMON SLAYER? wow.

He draws his sword, quickly aiming it at the foe. Was this woman convinced he was a demon? A monster?

Whatever had happened here, it wasn't looking good.

"Alright so let me get this straight..." she says, pinching the bridge of her nose, "A humanoid slime-galaxy thing, with two mouths and four arms, is for whatever reason coming here in order to murder me." An unimpressed, almost annoyed look was on her face as she stared at the poor dude relaying the news. She sighed, and got up from her desk, "Has the universe had enough of my 'miracles'? Did it decide to make itself a physical body and place it's wrath upon me for helping others cheat death?" Walking over to her cabinet, she takes the key from out of her pocket and unlocks it, "If my death is inevitable, I might as well gain a specimen for the company during it," she mutters, taking her tranquilizer gun from it's mount.

"Oh, so since I'm not a patient, me dying is fair game, eh?" Chance looked up at at Dr. Rostch, an eyebrow raised.  "Look, I don't mean to be blunt, but you're barking up the wrong tree. Sure, I'm not a great person, and I've committed my own share of atrocities, but we have a lot more in common than you might think."
With a sigh, they pulled their sleeve back, showing their bandaged arm, the telltale purple of a flux infection peeking through. "I'm just looking to find a cure, alright? I'll save so many lives when I do, who cares if a few people die while I'm testing it? Besides," The ghost paused, pulling out a thin blade. "You'll find the dead a little hard to kill."
As long as Dr. Rostch didn't find out about the bracelet, Chance wasn't particularly worried.

It felt like a dream.
Ethan laid on the ground as a heavy fog rolled over him. He couldn't move, it was taking everything in him to keep his eyes open. He could barely make out singing, like a lullaby. It felt cozy.
There was a figure standing over him, like a unicorn with three horns and... armor? Was she saying something? He couldn't make it out. He looked back at the sky. The stars were so beautiful. But they were getting covered up. It looks like it'll rain soon.
He looked back at Lullay. Some small voice at the far back of his head was screaming for him to run, but his limbs weren't listening. Even if he were in danger, after seeing all of this?
Surely it was just a dream.

It was a casual, warm day out in the forest. Scourge was just casually sitting up against an orange tree that he never actually saw in his forest before. Seriously, since when was there an orange tree in this forest?? He tried not to question it too much, and he picked up an orange that had fallen onto the soft grass beside him. He's probably never eaten an orange in his entire twenty years of living, might as well try it! 

"WAIT WAIT WAAAAAAIIIIT!!! P-PLEASE DON'T EAT THAT ORANGE!!!!" 

Scourge jumped and he nearly dropped the orange at the desperate cries that came from none other than Ethan. This guy wanted an orange, and despite the fact that there was an orange tree right there with a whole supply of oranges, he wanted the one that Scourge was holding. Aren't things already difficult enough for you, Ethan? 

"W-what the hell? Who said that?!" Scourge jumped up to his feet and looked around, still holding the orange. His eyes widened went he noticed Ethan in a dead-sprint right towards him. 

Ethan stopped in front of Scourge and tried to catch his breath. "P-please s-sir! I... I NEEEEEEEEEED that orange!  g ⁱ v e   _m e   t ^h e   o r _a n ^g e . _. . "

Scourge wasn't sure what to say, and he was low-key terrified right now. "I... Uh.... Y-ya want this orange and that's it? You're not s'posed to try and assassinate me like everyone else?...."

"ORANGE! NOW! I'VE HAD A REALLY ROUGH DAY AND THIS IS THE ONLY WAY I CAN COPE!!!" Ethan exclaimed as he practically ripped the orange out of Scourge's paws and ran off.

"... What the fuck was that?!" Scourge was speechless. He's never encountered anything like this, and it's safe to say that he doesn't like oranges. not after what he just saw. 

"Oh.. Oh sorry sir, are you talking to me?" Xander asked. He frowned. Xander has never seen a...creature..like Scourge before. He'd knew bears and teddy bears, but this, speaking thing, was the unholy, Void rotten combination of the two. Xander placed his tiny funny glasses higher in his nose and squinted his eyes a tiny bit. The enhanced vision didn't make the creature in front of him, less ragged. "Sorry. My good sir? What did you just say?" Xander asked. More as a formality as he didn't wait for any reply. "I got a bit distracted, if I may be so bold but, by your appearance, " he said. As he showed the..man, a careful smile. "Oh, it's very extraordinary to meet someone like you, in a dampy abandoned street like this one" Xander continued. Clearly oblivious to the danger he was in. "I know a good seamstress, she can fix those, pardon my Starqs, nasty, scars for you, " Xander nodded satisfied with his own words, even the bolder ones. "And maybe after that, we can look for..your owner, together? The streets are dangerous at night my good lad you'll be happy that I found you!" He hummed. "Bet the child you belong to feels very lost without you, big teddy." 

--

Xander frowned. "Oh, no, this is a terrible misunderstanding, " he said. Xander looked at him like a lost puppy. "I thought the instructions said, appreciate. Not assassinate. I can't do that!"

Noel was far more entertained than he was intimidated. Xander was such a soft, little man. A kind, chubby face behind a pair of fancy eyeglasses, and the pretty voice of a passerine to match. He couldn't help but laugh. Who would hire him for such a task? Certainly not anyone back home.

"You are a small man," he scoffed, "How are you supposed to kill me?"

Noel jabbed a finger out toward Xander's belly. "What are you going to do to me?" He asked, and then, putting on a mocking tone, "Monsieur Klingelhof? Bah."

Immediately flinching, Fitzgerald attempted - and failed - to stifle a gulp coming out of his throat. At first glance, this other person seemed... Quite... Damn it ,what was the word again? Intimidating! Yes, that. He definitely seemed like the person to stab Fitzgerald in a heartbeat, especially if he said the wrong word. Judging by his attitude, though, anything could set him off, and Fitzgerald couldn't do anything but except a big - albeit forced grin - in response to his predicament.

"Um, sir, I think we can talk about this," he immediately blurted while his hands scrambled inside his coat pockets for a few seconds. Well, before he stopped doing so upon glancing at said hands and realizing that this most likely didn't help his case. Besides, Fitzgerald was actually unarmed, and he wouldn't be the type to fight back that well - or at all, really  - regardless of whether he had anything or not. Almost embarrassingly (but also surprisingly appropriate to the point he was trying to make), he pulled out a ball of aluminum foil (which he definitely only picked up because it was shiny, damn it) and dropped it on the floor.

Once he did that, the young man took several steps back, did a dramatic gesture, and proclaimed, "See? I'm not armed, like. At all. This really wouldn't be a fair fight if you're the type to follow a code of honor, unless you're the one who follows contracts first before the ethical principles surrounding not taking someone else's life, which is... Questionable at best. But when that life is as important as mine, you better believe that killing me will end up getting your ass kicked!" He did yet another wave of his hands before putting them back down, his actions growing more and more desperate by the minute.

He then insisted, "Listen, I'll talk with your contractor. About anything, really! Just please, please change your mind and don't kill me-" Fitzgerald immediately clasped his hands against his mouth, pride getting to him at the last moment as he scanned the man who clearly towered over him and was definitely going to kill him no matter what he did. Really, you're gonna sound like a beggar at this last moment of yours? Sound like a man with class, damn it! he silently cursed at himself before letting go of his mouth and kicking at the ground.

Very reluctantly, he ended up taking several hundred dollars out of his wallet and presented the money to his potential assassin, saying with a sigh, "If you're doing this for the money, then I have plenty of it in my pocket. Just... Don't kill me, and I'll give you the damn currency that your contractor promised you. Hell, even more than that... How's that for a better arrangement? No dirty hands, but all the money. Everyone wins." Well, except for me since I now have less money, but I'd rather deal with that than die right now...

quick follow-up for the post below because why not-

kafkaesque

"I- Excuse me? Uh, are we familiar?" Her voice is soft, almost lilting- something you'd expect out of some kind of fairy. It's a front, of course. Sarangerel doesn't tolerate strangers walking up to her unannounced. Especially not ones this flagrantly unprepared for whatever they might have in store. There are plenty of people who'd have beef with an Ultimate, sure. It's not an uncommon thing. Screw you for being talented and all that, she figures. The look on Fitzgerald's face, though, and the way his hands kept drifting to his pockets... Something wasn't right. Something definitely wasn't right, and she wasn't eager to find out. The front drops. Her knuckles crack.

"Listen, kid. I don't know who you are or what you think you're doing, but it's gonna stop, and it's gonna stop now." Each word is punctuated by a sharp step forward, her boots thumping loudly on the concrete just to make her presence feel more overwhelming. She takes no regard to the fact that Fitzgerald is probably older than her and probably knows what he's doing- she's confident enough in her ability to overpower him. It doesn't seem like there's any deterring her.
"I'm gonna give you three seconds to run."

“Ah.. ” Sir rolls his eyes, “I’d love to see you try, kiddo. I’ve been stabbed and shot so many times in my life I’d be surprised if it hurts. You don’t look all that tough anyways.”

He starts to walk away, but seeing as she is determined to end his life, he stops and sighs, “Who put you up to this, anyways, kid? I don’t know what deity you probably work for that wants me killed cause I work for the devil, but really, I’m rather insignificant. If you wanna go kill someone important, go kill my boss.” He crosses his arms and takes out his own gun, “No? Alright, fair enough, determined little one, eh?”

He drops his gun on the floor and kicks it toward her, “I don’t have much a reason to put on a fight, it’d just make it bloodier than it needs to be. Go ‘head, maybe the big man himself will try n’ recruit you as a replacement. You look like you’d do better than me.” He holds his arms away from his body to give her a clear shot right to the heart, “I guess I’ve been asking for this for 34 years anyways, better than doing it myself, won’t be as depressing.”

He closed his eyes and waited for the moment he’d return to Hell all over again. Unsure of his own feelings toward it. He just hoped Cam would be alright.