( Xochi's Autoplay )

                           ‘ watch your fuckin’ mouth. goin’ around calling people you don’t like ‘PSYCHO’, what the fuck is wrong with you? some people got issues, man. ‘

{| ♦ X.C ♦ |}

          “ It’s not that I don’t like him; did you see what he was trying to do?  Fucking idiot was LUCKY enough to walk away with both his hands attached to his body.” 

  he hardly listens to anything that prattles out of her mouth, so occupied is he   with the small building before him. clearly, the prick’s been digging its way out   every night and holing back up again once it’s finished its business. which is   pretty fucking curious, given that it could have smashed the door to splinters   with the smallest exertion. tongue protrudes just slightly from between his lips,   fingers trailing over the smooth stone that frames the door, and scarred skin   traces out the ridges inscribed there, practically invisible to the wandering eye.   teeth flash in the smallest of grins, and then he presses his palm flat to the   center of the door.   ‘ zamran mad balzarg. ‘   the spaces between his fingers   where they splay against the stone seem to ignite, a pale brilliance snaking   from the tip of his middle finger to the frame of the door and spilling along its   outline like water. wherever the light touches, sigils appear, glowing a faint   blue.   ‘ sneaky devils, your family, eh? ‘   he murmurs, tongue clicking against   teeth in satisfaction.   ‘ could see the signs. they were careful, but you were   smarter. ‘   he drops his hand, wipes it distastefully on his trouser leg to shave   away the thin layer of ash that has collected there, and then he’s nudging the   door open gingerly with the toe of his shoe, leaning inside. it’s the STENCH   that gets him first: rotting meat. and he knows he’s got the right place.

{| ♦ X.C ♦ |}

Her back was to  him,   giving  her own decision to become his protector merely for the reality that she did not wish upon any more deaths within her conscience; thus, she held her knife high,   kept her eyes wide and watching,  and listened to every single one of  her  instincts.    That is,   until the words escaped him and a light so bright shone until she had to turn around;    it  was the stench that got her, no more than to make any surprise  or  shock  disappear from her features until the hand holding tightly onto the knife pressed its back against her nose and lips. Granted,   they were in a crypt,  a tomb, but even then, bodies as old as the one that was supposed to be hiding within,   didn’t ever smell so rotten;  could it be a demon? Masking their stench of sulfur?    Or...    “I don’t expect to find anything alive down there,  but you should still be careful.” Only a warning meant to care for  that  whom  she  now  called  her  partner     ( regardless  if  it  was  done  so unwillingly );     still,   she moved  and  pressed  a  hand  softly  against his back before she even dared move inside.   “Don’t be too loud, either.”  She informed, more within a command as she refused to look in his direction. “Or you’ll wake the DEAD.”