X-Osprey

Her long hair was picked up by the wind, “So what are you doing secluded out here? It must be lonely or do you have company often just appear?" She asked smiling clearly way too curious for her own good.

Her curiousity often got her in trouble and she took a couple steps backwards for safety reasons. Her head caught a sound off in the distance and she stomped her foot her Branch of Sin forming. She jumped back slightly as she held her hand to her ear listening. Letting her blood return to its former state at the sound of only thunder. 

There’s nothing of the sort observed, however, as he should have expected ─ but never mind; this wouldn’t have been the first such instance. Thus, the guide attention returns to what lies ahead, where it now remains for a good few—…seconds, actually.

Ironically, it’s not the sound which startles the other which similarly startles him: rather, it’s none other than her sudden reaction which causes his steps to come abruptly to a halt, and him to widen his eyes in a fleeting moment of surprise. The identity of the cause for her alarm - after having been quite easily determined as the rumble of thunder - serves to settle him within an instant; henceforth, then, he takes to simply watching his incidental companion during her moments of panic. It’s a touch amusing, admittedly, for all the bravado she’d displayed initially crumbles when faced with something as mundane as thunder. What’s more amusing yet, though, is the fact that he needn’t even beckon her forwards so that they can continue their journey as soon as possible: she strides ahead of him before he’s even raised a hand to wave towards her; that he’s able to only stare dumbly after her for a couple of seconds is hardly surprising, given the spontaneity of— well, of her entire reaction, really.

Her most recent question lost amidst the spectacular of some moments ago, he extends his apologies to the other not long after he’s caught up with her, his head dipping in a gentle bow. (Indeed, he can vaguely remember the line of her query, but it couldn’t help to ask.)

 She slowly turned toward him slightly while she watched him gently her body was definitely relaxed now and she was about to speak about how the storm was about to break out over their heads. She felt the wind change direction and pushed her hair down as it seemed to surround her head. "We should get moving." She didn't know it but she actually had a fear of lightning since she was a child but hey being in a super max prison is scary too so how was she supposed to know?

Her boot began to slowly crunch the leaves under it before she spoke, “The name is Osprey, well that was our ‘stage name’ and it seemed to stick you know. However we would prefer the name given to us which is Yuugi Shimazu." She smiled more before walking next to him occasionally bobbing through the trees. After patching herself up once more, she seemed to be hyper enough that she barely was injured at all. To anyone else it just looked like her shirt and skin were stained with blood.

"So stranger, who’re you?" 

Given the fact that they have ample time (if her predictions to be believed) before the rain actually starts falling, he sets off at a leisurely pace: neither too slow nor too hasty. In any case, to reach the shelter sooner rather than later is an advantage, but the gentleman sees no particular need to rush things here ─ after all, they have conversation going here, and though they can easily continue it even after they arrive before the disused church, he’d rather keep the pace of conversation and the pace of their journey near-identical. He’s simply more comfortable that way.

Mention of a ‘stage name’, however, has his interest, to the point that he unwittingly slows in his step as he receives the moniker ─ ‘Osprey’. Her concept of a stage mind possibly differs to his, he doesn’t neglect to consider, but his mind instinctively interprets the phrase literally, or at least does so in the seconds immediately succeeding her introduction; why, even if her stage name means not the pseudonym under which she performs some theatrical work or another, he remains intrigued as to why she’s apparently felt the need to share this nickname of sorts when she prefers her given name.

Speaking of which, he eventually takes to repeating her name once, twice under his (metaphorical) breath: not that he wishes to commit it to memory, near enough certain as he is that he’ll not once refer to her by name whilst they’re in one another’s company, but simply because he finds a certain delight in allowing the foreign name to dance off his tongue.

Yuugi…Shimazu. Yuugi Shimazu.

Her long hair was picked up by the wind, "So what are you doing secluded out here? It must be lonely or do you have company often just appear?" She asked smiling clearly way too curious for her own good.

Her curiousity often got her in trouble and she took a couple steps backwards for safety reasons. Her head caught a sound off in the distance and she stomped her foot her Branch of Sin forming. She jumped back slightly as she held her hand to her ear listening. Letting her blood return to its former state at the sound of only thunder. 

"Listen whoever you are, and as much as it pains us to ask this, we don’t feel like being in the rain." Osprey pointed her finger up toward the sky where a mass of dark clouds began to over take the once clear sky. She almost didn’t notice the smell of rain with as much of a stink of blood on her person. She brought her arm up to her face sniffing slightly. All the blood on her was going to take forever to get off let alone smell normal again. Her blonde brows furrowed slightly. Her impatience began to show once again. She approached the man stopping a few feet from him, even though she knew nothing about him she figured that he was smart and well educated based on his speech.

Albeit silently, her acting guide for this evening awards her credit for having noticed the impeding poor weather: he himself is the sort to notice these things too late. For a moment, he holds a hand out before him again - though this time with his palm facing upwards - as though to check for rain right this instant; regardless of the weather, though, to find somewhere ‘more comfortable’ (as she had put it) would be beneficial anyway, and it barely takes him a second before deciding on a change of location.

He half-turns towards their decided destination, hesitates as though uncertain in some way or another. Perhaps it would be an idea to guide her first to the nearby brook, so that she might have an opportunity to clean herself? Being as familiar to the vital fluid as he is, the blood actually doesn’t disconcert him to any credible extent ─ it’s admittedly more distracting than it is anything else (the stench, specifically speaking, more so than the sight). Never mind, he concludes after some seconds of contemplation: were she herself that bothered, she’d have made such a suggestion herself.

Thus, the gentleman gestures with a nod of his head in the direction they’re to travel for a brief while before turning away from her completely ─ though he doesn’t yet begin: he moves to make a start, taking one slight step forwards, granted, but not wanting there to be any miscommunication between the two of them (the forest would surely be unforgiving if she were to get left behind or otherwise lost), he elects to voice - as well as gesture - his instruction,

Her boot began to slowly crunch the leaves under it before she spoke, "The name is Osprey, well that was our 'stage name' and it seemed to stick you know. However we would prefer the name given to us which is Yuugi Shimazu." She smiled more before walking next to him occasionally bobbing through the trees. After patching herself up once more, she seemed to be hyper enough that she barely was injured at all. To anyone else it just looked like her shirt and skin were stained with blood.

"So stranger, who're you?" 

"Listen whoever you are, and as much as it pains us to ask this, we don't feel like being in the rain." Osprey pointed her finger up toward the sky where a mass of dark clouds began to over take the once clear sky. She almost didn't notice the smell of rain with as much of a stink of blood on her person. She brought her arm up to her face sniffing slightly. All the blood on her was going to take forever to get off let alone smell normal again. Her blonde brows furrowed slightly. Her impatience began to show once again. She approached the man stopping a few feet from him, even though she knew nothing about him she figured that he was smart and well educated based on his speech.

She scoffed slightly at his attitude as her slightly high voice spoke out once again she used “us” and “we”. Normally the guards told her she had a sense of nosism where the individual compared their personality to another entity or version of themselves., “We do not require any assitance from the like of men. Unless you mean to attack us, we’d rather be left alone to lick our wounds.” That comment triggered her bring her pale tanned cut fingers to her lips where she quickly cleaned her middle finger of some blood before her tongue darted back between her white lipstick stained lips. 

He has the nerve to smile - if only fleetingly - in the face of her apparent threats, too. For somebody who doesn’t require any assistance from the likes of him, she seems quite keen nonetheless to seek help from him in the form of answers; her rhetorical question also does little to help her come across as intimidating in any credible way ─ she’s barely given him a moment to consider her questions, let alone actually answer them. Once the smile (much the raise of the brow before it) has fallen from the musician face, he takes to nonchalantly waving her away, maintaining all the while that infuriating calm of his.

“Rest assured, Fräulein,” (the address - familiar though it is to him - happens to be strained ever so slightly, if largely for the sake of play) “I would be quite content in tending to your question on the condition it’s…ah, relevant to the situation at hand,” ─ a vague wave about their surroundings concludes his sentence, soon after which he takes a small step towards her. He doesn’t do so without a certain caution, however: whether her preferred method of offensive defence would do any lasting damage remains to be seen, but he could do without finding an answer if at all possible; thus, to not turn on her even if she truly isn’t seeking any help is within his best interests.

…That said, his response ends on that same teasing note, never mind his level tone. (This is all really rather childish of him, yes, but he can hardly be blamed: to approach the present in any way other than as is would be a wasted opportunity for a session of amusement, rare as these moments are.)

Osprey was nothing less than a femme fatale she despised that she was a killer forced to ill for amusement of others. Her pale green eyes shifted to the man in front of her. He didn't seem like a threat but her instincts screamed at her slightly as she quickly stopped staring and dropped her gaze down to her bleeding side she kneeled down and sifted through her boot as it appeared. In the heel of the left sole however she had been smart enough to hide a roll of bandages since something the guards thought she was fighting them in the prison.

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nolongerhavemysigh entered the nest!

 A woman glanced around her surroundings her platinum blonde hair matted against her face from sweat of her running away from the Deadman Wonderland. She’d finally gotten that damned collar off and she was safe finally. She was dressed rather oddly right now compared to her surroundings. Her black slight v neck shirt was tied secured around her neck the bright white color was stained a blood red from her own blood of the escape. 

“We underestimated those fools….” How could she have been so blind before that shot hit her ribs. She was lucky she was able to dig it out. Her dark blue jeans were slightly dashed with lighter bleached spots also had blood on them. She stopped a couple minutes to rest and a shadow came up behind her slightly making her slowly turn. “And who do you think you are sneaking up on us?” The blonde hissed her mid shin tall, black leather boots scuffed slightly as she turned to face the mysterious man in front of her. 

So tonight’s visitor is approached neutrally. He doesn’t extend a hand towards her - metaphorically or physically -, be it to offer assistance or to strike out at her; the moments immediately following her acknowledging of presence are largely devoid of any response as a whole, save a barely noticeable quirk of his lips, his brow.

“…Had I intended on sneaking up on you” (there’s a moment’s faltering as he registers - if somewhat belatedly - her use of ‘us’ ─ odd) “I would at least have made an effort. Regardless, who I think I am - whether I am, as supposed, sneaking up on you or otherwise - I shouldn’t think to be any concern of yours.” Although both his tone and his words themselves are rather dull, he genuinely doesn’t mean to deny her an answer out of a sort of malice: indeed, as matters stand at present, he hasn’t any views to antagonise her in any way, though nor does he even begin to contemplating tending to her predicament. On the contrary, the best he manages to do for the time being is to inspect her (as best he can in the dim light of the evening’s forest) with that usual air of indifference of his ─ and even then, despite what had initially drawn him to her, his interest doesn’t seem to have been piqued for certain.

But the stranger’s deemed to be worth a moment of his time, if nothing more. A brief while longer is spent in silence before pale lips part again, now offering a question in place of an answer—

She scoffed slightly at his attitude as her slightly high voice spoke out once again she used "us" and "we". Normally the guards told her she had a sense of nosism where the individual compared their personality to another entity or version of themselves., "We do not require any assitance from the like of men. Unless you mean to attack us, we'd rather be left alone to lick our wounds." That comment triggered her bring her pale tanned cut fingers to her lips where she quickly cleaned her middle finger of some blood before her tongue darted back between her white lipstick stained lips. 

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nolongerhavemysigh entered the nest!