[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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[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."