medical waste.

(Whoa. He’s got such an intense gaze…)

... Someone else? 

It caught her eye in the gutter, glinting in the sunset light. Candle squatted just beyond the piling of refuse and stared. Tangled up in a clutter of trash and bones and unnameable things was a small, egg-shaped gem. It reflected a deep red onto the street, like spilt blood.

The large assassin appeared before Candle as if by magic, materializing from thin air. Truth be told, he'd been hiding in plain sight for some time -- near-flawless and circumstantial invisibility, as those from his guild had the ability to harness -- but he hadn't felt the need to stop her until he witnessed her hasty escape, the strange glittering gemstone now safely tucked away within her clothing.

"Even if it does, I don’t want to hurt people. I want to believe in the good in people." Colette knew she was just preaching now. It really was only a matter of time until he snapped at her or something. Even if he did, she’d fight back. She didn’t want to die. She wanted to live and would fight for that right. 

"It's not weakness," Eremes retorted sharply. He appeared to be slightly calmer now, though he was still somewhat agitated, the bladed weapons on his lap wobbling as he bounced his right leg. "It's foolishness."

Colette stood her ground. That’s what she believed in. Because she was the same. She wasn’t a ghost like he was but she wasn’t human anymore either. She was essentially dead just like he was. She still called herself human. Because she was. 

To him, Colette's entire argument sounded both flawed and pointless. Did she truly consider his half-existence something that could be defined by the word 'live?' More importantly, how was she able to cope with a process that granted her no benefits?

Colette tilted her head in confusion at first. She thought he had been banished until… until he said he was a monster. 

The Assassin's eyes slitted as he glanced at Colette, tension rising into his hunched-over form.

"Oh! So Assassins can work like that too? That’s good. I thought they only hurt others." Colette smiled softly. "N-Not saying you do! At least I— I don’t know. I’m sorry." 

He wasn't exactly offended. While Colette had no way of knowing about the atrocities he committed during his ghostly imprisonment in that dark basement, he didn't feel the need to hide or deny them once the subject was breached.

Colette had no idea why he was smiling after that. Even holding the katars -really cool- a little tighter at that. Oh no… maybe she had offended him or something. 

The smile faded just as quickly as it came, through no fault of Colette's design. He could swing his katars until there was nothing left of his foe but their well-shined shoes, yet the slightest quirking of his lips left him feeling drained for reasons he couldn't explain. Perhaps he wasn't meant to smile anymore.

Okay now she was confused. Assassins she understood. After all, Sheena was one once. The Cross part though… why did it have a ‘cross’ at the end? Was he like a super assassin?

... Super assassin.

Oh, so that’s how they were held.

If Colette was surprised to hear that his weapons carried poison, she certainly didn't come from Rune-Midgard. Everyone knew of the Assassin's trade back in his home -- they just didn't know how to replicate it.

The talk about death was starting to depress her. Sure it wouldn’t affect her very much but it was still something she didn’t like hanging over her head. Her mind went back to the strange weapons he had. They looked like daggers but at the same time they didn’t.

The Assassin gazed at Colette unblinkingly as he raised the weapons from his lap. Their sharpened edges glittered in the sunlight, sparkling clean from the attention he paid to them -- excepting the few bloodstains that refused to come clean, of course. It could prove difficult to find suitable wiping cloths in an abandoned basement, so he usually had to make due with the clothing of fallen adventurers.