(Untitled)

[awhitephantom]

Who: Regina and open to the brave
What: Being that she's not feeling all that well at the moment, she's wandered down to town
Where: Just on the streets
When: Day 51, midday
Warnings: Yes, attempted mauling and if she gets upset it'll happen quicker. If you're feeling brave against a half-demon

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[lamina_cito]

When was the last time she had been within the confines of the town instead of the darkness of the forest beyond. A haven made of tall trees and vast greenery with only the coiling morning mist dancing along the grasses and the gentle cries of animals to keep her company within her vast solitude when people weren't yacking on the phone all day and night. Humans were so utterly and terribly talkative.

And Irene had long forgotten what it meant to be human.

She was a silver eyed witch, a warrior, a "Claymore." And such things she took pride in. In her world she had been one of the highest ranked of the order before losing her arm. Before deserting like a coward. But the fear had been so true, so cruel. She knew fear just as well as she knew pride. She had suffered just as much as any other. And here, in this place... what was the worth of rank? Nothing.

She was Irene. She was half yoma, and she still had her quicksword technique. She was whole in her own way. But what had brought her to town was curiosity. Teresa was here. Clare was her and probably knew Teresa had arrived. And there was Cynthia. And Miata. A handful of former warriors for the organization. And there was another like them. Three actually. Two males she knew nothing of, and a female who she didn't know the name of.

But there was something that caught her off guard. A feeling so akin to yoki. A familiar pulse of energy shared by the warriors she knew. But... but it was different. She would follow it, she had to.

[awhitephantom]

Finding someone so close to her own was something of a comfort and a fright. Just as conflicting as the darker urges and the emotions that were currently being stuffed away. She could do better than this, really, sitting out on the street like some sort of washed up animal from the rain and the comparison wasn't so far from from her appearance. Little clothing aside, Regina just generally looked sick. Pale, more than usual, the color of white, it could have blended with her hair.

The woman had slowly pulled her head up, turned to gaze over her left shoulder to narrow in what could be there. It wasn't an aura, it was more like a scent. Funny, she could really narrow in on scents, only in this stage, if it were. There was a dark flicker from her eye, that flash of when the white turned to black and the only red eye she had seemed to grow brighter. She didn't move, she didn't say anything, still went back to focusing to recovery.

Sleep felt good, but she just couldn't muster fatigue.