She heard footsteps behind her, the rattle of a chain, and a soft chuckle. "Well, well, well. What do we have here?"

She turned, fire in her free hand. "Girl who might've just had a rough cycle, you?"

He reached up to remove his hood, revealing the bloody and disfigured face of Ian. "A man who has died twice in three hundred years. Let's not make it a third." The chain hanging from his sleeve retracted.

"I want to know why you were killing, first off." She said, not trusting him

"Alex, please, I had to cover my tracks. I don't think people really want me here, ya know?" He stretched his arms. "You know a healer who can fix this?"

"I don't know who the HELL you are" She said, her grip tightening at the mention of her real name

"You don't? You don't remember the brand on your chest? Eh?" With his disfigurement, that was understandable.

She fired three times. Once in his gut, twice to his arms "GET. OUT. OF. MY. SIGHT."

He took the shots and stepped back, laughing maniacally. He stopped and wiped his eyes. "You [i]do[/i] remember." He sighed. "I'm sorry." [spoiler]he's basically immune unless you get that stake and put right there----> ❤️ [/spoiler]

So yeah, I'm not taking your excuses. Edit this bullshit or take a kick. Your choice. I'll give you ten minutes.

[spoiler]okay ASAP, calm down with the godmod vamps die to fire too[/spoiler] She threw a fireball at him, slamming it into his face

[spoiler]*breathes in* fuсk.[/spoiler] He dodged to the right and let the chain drop from his sleeve. It appeared to be on fire. "Please. Stop. As much as you doubt it, I don't want to do this."

She kept attacking, throwing fire and fire-coated punches "YOU KEPT ME IN THAT GOD FORSAKEN PLACE AND TORTURED ME!"

He effortlessly sidestepped and dodged all of her attacks. "I can and will kill you if you don't stop."

"Oooooohhh... I remember you!" The laugh was horrifyingly familiar for Ian. It was the voice of Ike, the boy who had killed and consumed the entirety of Ian's body. Ian would feel a cold hand on the back of his neck, to be suddenly shoved onto the ground. Maniacal laughter followed, before the cold tip of a familiar bone blade could be felt on Ian's back–the tip right up against the middle of his spine. "Remember this? Remember this?" Ike's voice was almost hysterical, and it was followed by more laughter. The tip was slowly plunged into Ian's back, piercing his skin, flesh and spine with agonizingly slow speed. After a full minute of pure agony, the sword had pierced all the way through Ian's body, the tip striking the ground. Ike quickly spun Ian around, grinning into the now paralyzed man's eyes. That was when Ian knew that his death would not be a slow one. The next thing Ike did was walk over to Ian's left hand. He grasped the wrist with his left hand hand and pressed the First Blade against Ian's pinky finger. He slowly cut the finger off by the knuckle, and repeated this process with the rest of Ian's nine fingers and all of his toes. Each time he finished removing one, he would light a lighter beneath the wound, cauterizing it with an open flame–an absolutely agonizing experience in itself, but it was only to keep him alive longer. He grinned to himself as he put them in a small bag, looking up at Ian. "... dessert," He said with a creepy smile. Next was probably the worst of it. He shoved his sword through the center of Ian's pants, specifically between his legs, the blade cutting through cloth. The castration process was worse than Ian's spine being pierced. But soon, the part that identified Ian's sex was remove, dangled in front of Ian's eyes. Afterwards, Ike would once again light a lighter by the wound that was created, cauterizing it. "This? This, I will bake into a potpie. And I will find your brother–Garin, was it? I will find him and feed this soon-to-be potpie. I will force feed it, shove every last bit down his throat, and then tell him what the 'secret ingredient' was." He did not laugh maniacally now; he was rather preoccupied. "What next, what next? Oh, you can no longer walk. What's the use for legs?" Ike pulled a small, serrated kitchen knife from his pocket. He then proceeded to jam it into Ian's left knee, and again. And again. And again. And again. And again. It would take about ten minutes to sever Ian's foreleg, and another ten minutes for his other leg. He repeated the process as he severed both of Ian's forearms. All wounds were cauterized. "And now? Now it is about time for me to feast. This time, rest assured that I'll be cooking your meat." He grinned as he lighted his lighter, bringing it to Ian's face. "And since I'd rather not eat your hair...." He ignited Ian's hair, creating a massive, open flame right on top of the man's head. The flame scorch his forehead and spread down his flesh, while Ike now simply sat by the flame, holding the severed limbs over it. The limbs would quickly be cooked thoroughly, and Ike grinned as he ate each limb as though they were the leg of a chicken. By now, the flame had scorching away the flesh on Ian's face and worn off. Ike would simply shrug, tie up his bag of parts, and wall over to the forest with the rest of Ian's body being dragged through the dirt. He found a nice clearing, throwing the body into it. He then climbed a tree, sitting atop a low branch as the wolves came out. The wolves smelled the flesh of one who died very recently. Their feral jaws crunched on the rest of his limbs, wildly tearing away flesh from bone. Ike sat on the branch the entire time as the wolves' fur and teeth were stained with Ian's blood, until the wolves had completely eaten away all flesh and nothing but bones remained. Ike waited for the wolves to leave, before dragging Ian's skeleton further into the forest. He piled twigs up, throwing the bones onto them. The lighter was ignited once more, placed against the twigs. Flames would rise up as smoke drifted above the forest canopy, and Ike simply walked away as the dancing flames burnt Ian's bones to a crisp.[spoiler]You've been kicked, banned, whatever the hell.[/spoiler]

“So.” [i]As the flames cackled and burnt away at the now smoldering, bloodied remains of Ian’s skeleton, their tips flickering through the crevices and holes within whatever was left of the suddenly revived, yet once more dead man, the orange flames engulfing the body - a feminine voice would call out to the teenager who had committed the murder not once, but twice now. As Ike would have regularly walked off, he would hear a quiet thud behind him, as the woman, whoever she was, found herself the time to speak.[/i] [i]She was.. different, from the typical people that you would find to roam the darkness of the woods, seeking out a cannibalistic boy in the dreads of nighttime. She was quite tall, probably five feet and ten or eleven inches tall in exact, though her body was a mixture of lax and athleticism, the feminine curves and such of which made up her frame being hidden by the scaly cobalt robe of which she adorned, which ended when it would meet her knees. Gloves of deep black leather would reach up to her forearms, tight pants of dark satin worn as well and tightened by the rugged belt of which wrapped around her waist. Her silky blue hood was pulled over her head, her face nothing but a shadow to Ike as she stood in place, holding something between her fingers as she stared endlessly at the cackling body of the vampire.[/i] “An evil man, who died in such a manner that is befitting of him. He was a murderer, a liar, and a rаpist.. I’ve met many who are the same, yet he was easily the worst. …Why did you kill him? Was it judgement for his cruelty? Punishment for his revival? Finishing the job after he targeted you.. or was it something else entirely?” [i]The woman would finally turn to face Ike then, the darting light of the fire dancing across her revealed face: she was beautiful in a sense, with a sharp, feminine jawline and facial structure, her soft skin illuminated in the darkness by the blaze of flame. Her head was still concealed by the azure hood, yet tangles of scarlet red hair made up her short head of hair, as deep sapphire blue eyes stared at Ike, their pupils endless and seemingly.. cold. Her face was emotionless, monotone and silent, before a grin would slowly make it’s way upon her expressions, with such a soft, subtleness to it - yet mixed with a near evilness.[/i] [i]It was as if she was the Devil, coming for Ike’s actions.[/i] “You are good, at what you do. But you could be better. Your wrath, a controlled storm. Your anger, funneled into your combat prowess and channeled into power. Perhaps you were lucky with this man, but.. I do owe you, no matter what. You saved me trouble.. and you saved innocent lives from him. That's a respectable trait."

Ike would slowly raise his head, his face emotionless as he stared at Charlia. In reality, the boy was housing unimaginable agony beneath his blank expression–Charlia would see this only in the fact that his right arm was shaking. And the rune branded into his forearm was glowing a crimson red bright enough to blind somebody momentarily if they looked directly at it. As he lifted his head fully to gaze upwards at the taller elf's face, the blazing fire behind him would illuminate his bloodstained, blond crew cut to make it appear scarlet. His eyes were ignited with flames similar to the ones he used to burn Ian's ashes–lively, yet with a burning wrath. The blood stains all over his pale skin didn't help this feature look any less aggressive. "I killed him because I hated his guts," He replied with contempt. "Not to save innocent lives. There'd be no need for this extravagance if it was to save lives. Not for judgement for his cruelty; I'd assume that I am just as cruel, if not more. Not to punish his revival; it was more like a blessing. Being allowed to hear his screams and watch his life ebb away a second time. Not finishing any job." All Ike really knew about Ian was that he hated him, hated him enough to wish this fate upon him. And that would be made clear to Charlia. He didn't even question how Charlia knew all this. If she did, then she did. If she wanted to do something bad to him or the people he cared about with the information... well, Ike had picked up a trick or two from the people he knew well. He hoped it wouldn't come to that, however–he thought that slaughtering Ian twice had made him a little cocky. Silently, Ike would scold himself, taking a step back. "I know I can be better," He replied slowly. "Much better. But why point this out?" He was curious to see what Charlia had in mind, after all.

[i]Charlia wasn't sure about the boy. He was.. fueled by a hatred, something that she had known and experienced. She would look at Ike and see herself - granted, herself a hundred years ago: bloody and cruel, chaotic, and fueled by pure hate. It was a sad way. It wasn't a way that she wanted someone else to experience.[/i] [i]In her hands, she caressed the burnt remains of Ian's rapier. The once shining metal was burnt off, almost in a rusty kind of way, creating patches of ugly craters and holes in the once beautiful needle and the grip. The woman's gloved fingers would wrap around the thin blade, before a satisfying, quick *snap!* would be heard, as the elf twisted off a portion of the rapier's needle.[/i] "I point this out, because I see something better than a killer in you. [i]Someone[/i] better, in fact. Where you, and others, would see an abomination - I see a potential for redemption." [i]The clutter of steel rang as the rapier was dropped, before Charlia turned, facing Ike. She would find herself studying him.. thin, but quick on his feet. He wasn't skilled, but that rune.. it twisted him. It was what kept him going, somehow..[/i] "First things first: admit to me that your rune is your only lifesaver. Not skill, not swords. The rune." [i]Charlia.. well, wanted to test Ike. His admittance was the key. She wanted for him to realize that she would at least attempt to teach him proper swordplay, and.. well, a little more in the future.[/i]

"Okay. I admit it." He shrugged–it was true. He was never taught a single thing about combat–Cain simply planted a mark on his arm and went on his merry way, leaving Ike to himself and learn the ways of the rune. His only prowess in combat was driven by the mad, berserk-like combat style that the rune would create–complete and utter aggressiveness with the only goal to kill the opponent. As Charlia mentioned him being an abomination, Ike's expression simply turned sad as he looked away, gazing into the trees in thought. "That's all I am, though. An abomination. Half the people I meet seem to want to kill me, the reason being what I just did–to that man." He shook his head, almost admitting complete defeat–giving in to the pressure. "That's all I am, and nobody has proven me wrong yet."

"You're only an abomination if you admit to being such a thing." [i]Charlia muttered quietly, twirling the rapier's partly broken handle, the gilded steel brushing past her pale fingers. She knew how it all felt, how could she not? She found Ike to be quite similar indeed.[/i] [i]Without proper training.. well, she didn't want to see what could happen to Ike if he didn't prepare for whatever he was up against.[/i] "I don't know if your intentions are good, or evil. But I won't stand by as you are outnumbered and outplayed by adult men and women who believe that it is good to gun down a child, whether he's some freak or not." [i]She let out a sigh. To Ike.. well, the elven woman probably seemed very angry.[/i] "What is your name, boy?"

"... Ike," He responded to Charlia's question. As for his intentions... well, they were rather simple and pure, yet dark and possibly bloody at the same time–to protect those he cared about, which would in turn mean murdering the hell out of anybody who might pose a threat to them. And of course, he lacked the physical ability to do that. He gazed at Charlia as he though of his own intentions, part of him wondering what Charlia's own intentions were. In truth, he didn't believe the elf to be very angry at all. He knew what angry looked like–he saw it in himself over the dead bodies of the people he'd killed.