[open] and you can tell the sun in his jealous sky..

[starryeyed_cass]

[OOC: Just to let everyone know, Cassie is backdated to the thirteenth. Everyone else is on the current date. :)]

On the thirteenth, it is Cassie Riddle’s twenty-third birthday. In the early morning, she is up on the roof of Kashtta, playing guitar. She’s singing a pretty little folk song she was fond of from back home to the skies of the

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[corpsedisposal]

Despite the fact that it is freezing balls outside, Rain is on a night run through Grant Park. Usually she runs in the afternoon during the winter months, when the day is at its warmest, but she's noticed since coming to Chicago that she sees a lot more interesting things at night. Running gets boring without some good scenery.

So she's not exactly surprised when she comes across a dead man. The surprising fact is that she recognizes the corpse. This seems to be against all odds, so after scanning the immediate area for cops, she crouches down to get a better look at the ruined face. Yes, this would be that guy who said he was an unkillable demon. And that would be his blood everywhere. She peels off one of her gloves and dips a finger into the puddle. Contact with the frozen ground is making it cool rapidly, so she can't tell how long he's been dead, and if he's really not all human she can't count on coagulation to give her any clues. She gives the blood on her finger an experimental lick to taste before putting her glove back on.

She should be moving on before someone charges her with murder, but the wound in his head looks like it's moving, ever so slightly, possibly stitching itself back together. That's not something she can simply walk away from, so she stays to watch.

[halfhuman_hero]

It’s a good fifteen minutes or so before the life’s forced back into him. The parts of his brain are regenerated, muscle and tissue and bone slowly growing back into place and the skin healing and looking as if nothing had ever happened. The only sign is the fact his head is still covered in thick, red blood.

Once the regenerative process has ended, there is a few moments of calm and he looks like he’s sleeping. But suddenly, there’s a jolt through his entire body as his heart starts once again. He bolts up with an almighty yell, clutching his head. He might be alive again - but it still fucking hurts like hell. Probably worse than any hangover he’s ever experienced. It’s even as bad as the visions he used to het. Migraines with pretty pictures. Lovely.

“Jesus,” the Irish accent is slurred almost as if he’s drunk, “Fuckin’ rifts...”

He groans and reaches into his jacket pocket for his pack of cigarettes. It’s only then that he realises that Rain’s watched the whole thing. He raises an amused eyebrow, he’s pretty unfazed by the whole thing - he’s died quite a few times since coming to Chicago.

“Alrigh’ there now, darlin’?” he asks with a wry smile, offering her a smoke.

[corpsedisposal]

The yell startles her. Rain has only ever seen anyone come fully back from the dead like that once. He'd been a vampire of course, not one of Daniel's, and he'd come back furious. It was a controlled situation, but even then everyone in that room was lucky to still be alive. The residual fear from that day makes her jump to her feet and back up several paces, wide-eyed.

But instead of ripping out her throat, Doyle offers her a cigarette. She takes it, lights it and shrugs at his question, pretending like he hadn't scared her halfway to the grave. She doesn't ask if he's okay or what happened. "So you are what you said you are." That's good, because she'd told him plenty of truth in that same conversation, and she'd feel like an idiot if she was the only one who hadn't lied.

[halfhuman_hero]

Doyle lights up his own cigarette, knowing full well that the nicotine's going to ruin the natural high that coursing through his body. Due to the sheer blood loss, his body's made up new blood to compensate. So that brand new, shiny blood that's running through his veins is making him feel good inside.

But he really needs a cigarette.

He takes a long drag and rubs at his temple, "'Course I am," he says, looking at her with a slight frown, "Y'think I was lyin' before?" While he has been know to be someone who lies, it's usually when it comes to gambling or when he's trying to save his own skin. "I really am an immortal demon, y'know..."

He shakes his head and reaches up to touch the back of his head. The pain's dulled, but he'll still be needing a lot of painkillers, "Jesus, what a mess.." he mutters, bringing back a blood soaked hand, he wipes it promptly on the grass next to him.

[corpsedisposal]

Rain awkwardly puts her cigarette to her lips at the same moment he does, but doesn't inhale, she never inhales. She just leaves it in her mouth and talks around it. Her gaze is held by the burning end of the cigarette, then the bloodstain on the ground, but she can't meet his eyes after the disapproving Y'think I was lyin' before? "Everybody lies," is her response to that, muttered to the sidewalk.

More words ramble out of her. "And even if you're not with the Devil, that's still, you're still pretty metal, I mean, I would've just died like a wuss if that happened to me, couldn't put the gore back in and resurrect like an unholy power."

She hazards a glance back at him as he's wiping his red hand on the grass. "Your blood tastes normal," she blurts out, and then corrects herself, "I think, I don't really know what human blood's supposed to taste like." By normal she meant not vampire, and why he would need to know what his blood tastes like is anyone's guess.

[halfhuman_hero]

Doyle looks at her with raised eyebrows, taking a long draw on his cigarette as he considers her words. "Well, can't argue against you there, darlin'.." he says finally after a long pause.

He smiles, amused. "Y'know, even before - I couldn't be killed by a certain way," he tells her, "In my demon form, I can't break my neck. Some sort of weird demon bone deal goin' on here," he taps the side of his neck and shrugs.

Doyle straightens up and gives her an incredulous glance, "Well I am very much normal!" he insists and stops, sneezing violently. His features change, the normal light flesh tone changes to green and blue spikes stick out from it. He squints with red eyes, swearing softly, "... Well, on me Mum's side,"

He sniffs, shaking his head and allowing his features to return to normal. He takes another quick draw on his cigarette, frowning slightly. "That's disgustin'... why'd you taste my blood for? Can't be nothin' nice about it," He's not mad at her, just a little weirded out. His best friend was a vampire and all that, but just... ewww..

Doyle shakes his head, "So anyway, how you been, darlin'?" he asks with a smile, "Keepin' out of trouble, eh?"

[corpsedisposal]

As his sternutation causes his skin to turn green and blue spikes to bust out of his face, Rain's jaw goes slack. The cigarette falls from her mouth, but without looking she catches it in her palm, and seems not to notice that the burning end is making contact with her skin. She is very impressed.

In her fangirlish shock, it'll take her a bit longer than it should to stammer out, "I was. Um. I. Was checking for... something." She'd known his blood wouldn't be what she needed, but if he was just going to leave it sitting out like that, she couldn't waste the opportunity to know for sure. She adjusts the cigarette so she's holding it properly between her fingers and it's no longer burning her.

That's twice in one night that he's startled her, and if she's going to be hanging around the supernatural without the Family's protection, she's going to have to pull herself together and at least pretend like each new thing she witnesses isn't the coolest thing ever. There's an abrupt shift in her body language as she puts on the act, standing up straighter, shoulders back and chin up. It's a forced shell of confidence, where every action is deliberate and in that precision betrays its own counterfeit nature, while still obscuring anything that might be real beneath the surface.

She rolls her eyes at his last question, like a teenager on a sitcom. "Trouble. I'm too fast for trouble to catch me." The very concept of anything being able to cause her much trouble is absurd, certainly, as evidenced by her smirk. As for the answer to How you been, he'll get an answer that speaks little about her mental state or well-being. "I've been contemplating the nature of oblivion, and knitting. And I have an employee."

[halfhuman_hero]

He's kinda used to the staring, perhaps the biggest stare he ever got was from himself. The sheer panic, disbelief and anger that for twenty one years, he'd not know what he was. And suddenly, boom. He's suddenly half-demon, always has been. He'd spent a long time looking in the mirror that day.

However, the fact she looks so impressed is not what he's used to. It's almost unsettling. No one finds being a demon impressive. Demons are looked down on. Evil. Generally unaccepted by everyone. Well, his wife accepted him. But he couldn't. But that's a long story.

"Checkin'...?" Doyle asks almost curiously before shrugging and shaking his head. "Wouldn't if I were you, people might think that yer a bit weird, love," Why a Human kid would do such a think is beyond him. Well, he's sure she's human. She smells like one.

And then he notes that shift, he can feel a smirk at his lips. He's seen it before. He used to be a teacher, after all. He also remembers Cordelia doing it more than a few times: that sort of bold, serious front. Doyle knows better not to be fooled by it. But he's not going to chastise the girl for it.

"Well, that's good then," he says in an amused voice, smirking around his cigarette. And then he just raises his eyebrows at her, not quite expecting an answer like that. "Nature of Oblivion? Not get a head ache from that?" He laughs brightly, "Ah! So! You don't just use them needles to threaten poor demons like my very good self, then? And an employee? You're certainly quick to make a mark in this place. An employee for what?"

[corpsedisposal]

Having been screwed over by humans and saved by the creatures that are supposed to be evil, Rain has a different value set than most humans. She'll likely never understand why he doesn't think he's as awesome as she thinks he is.

"I had to-- doesn't matter, you don't have it." She shrugs off the insinuation that she's a weirdo; it's far from the worst thing she's been called. Being called normal might be the bigger insult.

"No, only stupid stuff gives me a headache. 'To be or not to be,' is a pretty easy question. At first, see, I thought that oblivion might be my only path out of here," she dismisses this whole inconvenient universe with an exasperated dramatic gesture, "Cause that might have been the way I came in, but if that's true it would mean that oblivion's not even really what it's supposed to be, and on top of that you seem to go in and out of it without actually going anywhere. Plus I have four years before the situation is that dire. Maybe even five." To her eyes this rant is composed of all flawless logic, and needs no explanation. It doesn't bother her that most of what she says only makes sense in her head, because that's where she is.

She scoffs at the needle question. "Those magic needles are completely worthless as weapons, don't even do anything but knit. Really really fast. So I made a bunch of hippie crap to sell at the craft fairs. I make some legitimate cash," and this may imply that there is also illegitimate cash, "Enough that I have a guy to watch the booth for me sometimes." That's the story on its surface, anyway. "I have no purpose here so it's just a temporary, stupid one until I get back to what's real."

[halfhuman_hero]

Doyle frowns at the comment on his blood. He doesn't have... it? He scratches at his temple for a moment, utterly confused, "Sorry love, you've lost me," he shakes his head, "Don't have 'what'?"

He tilts his head to the side as she talks, taking everything in and trying to work out what she's saying. Some part makes sense, others don't. So, he's not entirely sure what comment he could give her. "Who knows what's the answer of tryin' to get out this place," he mumbles, taking the last draw on his cigarette and flicking it to the grass. "I'm sorry you can't get back to them, to yer family and that..." He crushes the smoldering end with his shoe, "What was his name... Daniel?"

Doyle finds a smirk tickling his lips, "Power to the crazy crafts chick," he comments, feeling a dark laugh at the back of his throat. He breaths in heavily and shakes his head, "Ah, there's nothin' really for any of us to do, darlin'... We're just existing,"

He scratches the back of his head, wincing when he realizes that it's still covered in blood. "I don't think any Wanderers know what to do here. Well, apart from make sure we don't get killed by them CLF bastards,"

[corpsedisposal]

Her hands move and flutter in gestures that attempt to emphasize the words she's struggling to find. After all, how do you describe perfection? "It's a certain chemical or... supernatural property of the blood, a thing I-" she shakes her head, not about to end that sentence with 'need.' She's been won over by the demon thing, and has begun to trust him, but not far enough to admit things to him that she doesn't even admit to herself. "A thing I'm looking for. I doubted you had it, because you're not even the right species, I was right but I had to know, end of story." Just talking about it is making her twitchy. She shouldn't have said anything.

"The smart guys will figure out how to get back. Or-- yeah, his name's Daniel. He's everything. He'll come find me. If anyone can, he can. I just, uh, hope he doesn't think I deserted 'cause of the pigs. Til then, the temporary purpose is the whole... job thing, and I mean, this place is full of weird crap, maybe I'll be able to find something useful to bring back with me. A tribute befitting a Dark Lord." Goals and schedules, these are the things Rain knows how to work with, and it's the only logical way for her to cope with a situation which has spiraled so completely out of her control. She can't just exist.

"CLF? Oh right, the terrifying terrorists," she scoffs. "Those pussies think they're so scary. One video and everyone's pissing themselves." Brave words for such a diminutive human, but she probably wouldn't be talking so tough if she were face to face with any of them. In fact, now that she thinks about it, they really shouldn't be standing around in the open like big easy targets. Of course this is completely unrelated to him mentioning the CLF, right? Right.

Rain grabs Doyle's sleeve and tugs. "C'mon, you're still all sticky, we should leave before something comes sniffing."