Dusk... the sky was slowly turning shades of red and orange, and dark clouds had rolled in to blot out what light was left. Street lights were just flickering to life up and down the street while the handful of scattered people still outside quickly excused themselves to the safety of their homes. Cars that looked like too much money had been put into them, with shining rims and booming stereos creeped like predators up and down the streets, while people of the shadier variety lounged on porches and out in front of apartment buildings...

One red coated figure was a little uncertain about how she was supposed to react to such obvious poverty- so she chose to ignore it. Something rare had happened, and the timid Greek had awoken on the wrong side of the bed that morning. Events that had happened in the all to recent past were plaguing her like a murder of crows, cawing incessantly in her head. ...reminding her of her own thoughtless actions. A dark mood resided just under her skin, making it crawl and itch like she needed a shower. She didn't know how to fix it or make it go away, so she had resorted to stomping around the city until she was tired enough to go back home and sleep.

Her serpents shared her temperament, she could tell, as they were coiled and tensed under her hood. Even sloth seemed to be tighter around her shoulders than usual, with his head tucked just out of sight beneath her hair... People still out and about gave her funny looks, she wasn't exactly surprised. She stood out like a sore thumb clad in a raincoat- when it was clearly not raining. Come to think of it, it probably didn't help that the more and more her figure filled back in, the less her old stash of clothing seemed to fit her. Brown and green cargo shorts that covered her up to the knees, and a tank top seemed to be the only things that fit her anymore.

Her braided sandals made little sound and she marched along, until she turned down a gravel alley in between a run down house and a shady looking apartment complex. It's funny, how listening to the sound of your own feet can bring your attention to other things around you. She heard the crunching of her own steps and then suddenly, as she was nearing the middle of the alley, she heard the sound of other feet closing in behind her.

"Ey, hand over your valuables and we won't have to get rough with you..." A classic, if cliche line to hear. Andrea stopped in her tracks... but didn't quite feel like turning around. The anger she had been feeling lately bubbled to life within her chest again, causing her snakes her writhe and hiss softly. Sloth uncoiled himself from around her shoulders so he could better attack if needed, and waited for the prey to appear before him. "Hey! Did you hear me?" Without waiting for her to respond, one of the three kids- all in their twenties- strode forward and grabbed for her hood. He held a six inch blade in his hand, and brought it up threatening as he yanked the red hood down.... He didn't have a chance to use it. Vana launched forward and sank his inch long fangs into the guys cheek, while Hubris opened his jaws wide and spat a stream of venom over the guys shoulder- hitting one the fellows and he started forward to help his buddy.

The venom struck true, and that boy found himself suddenly blind, and in quite a lot of pain. Andrea felt her chest seize up, but couldn't bear to turn herself around. Sloth took her stillness as permission to launch his own attach, and before the boy behind her knew what was happening he found himself suddenly wrapped up in a nice, tight snake hug. The knife slipped from his hand and he let out a fear filled scream when Sloth started constricting... The last boy, who hadn't been struck, was torn between rubbing, fighting, and moving to help his friends... Before to long, he slowly started to reach behind to the back of his belt... he was aware that there were a few orange eyed snakes watching him- but he had a small pistol tucked into his pants...

The assassination attempts were long done with. Pleasant memories were creeping in now and then. How he had finally put those people off his tracks. Well not so much put them off his tracks back then. Back then he had taken care of their desire to even find his tracks. A small smile was on the young mans face as he was looking into his cracked mirror trying to ignore the fact that a part of the sink was missing. Trying to not be startled, well maybe not startles, but slightly uneasy, at what looked back at him. Broken. Half a smile from the mirror. Just like back then. He had discouraged them indeed. Not so long done he was with was the figuring out of his strange new power. It had taken months and months in 'silent contemplation and meditation on the tip of a rock' to reach where he was now at. Ha that sounded grand. Like in the movies. Weeks and weeks of getting hit by rubber bullets, of flowing through he shadows, of fighting with real and not-so-real people at Mondragon labs. Lots of sore muscles. Lots of wounds for the doctors to patch up. He had broken a finger. And a toe. (The first one when he had tried punching a person twice his size in the face, the latter when falling off a wall he had been sneaking on. The latter was still a bruise to his pride. He had not fallen off that wall, because a cat had startled him. He had not. Everything had been professional.) An uneasy peace with his new sense, his new appendage, that blue eye looking out over the half smile. Cut in half like it. Just missing a bit yet. He was even fairly certain he could block a fired bulled now. Block it by whatever it was that happened, when he pulled out that... shattering. Down his hand went to the cracked sink, where the black baseball cap lay that he pulled firmly over his head, tilted slightly at an angle to cover the thing that made him different. The thing that stood out here.

He stepped back to take in the appearance he made. Moved he had again. After things had settled down a bit. After he had settled back from where he had gone to be changed yet again. Moved to one of the rather colorful spots of the city where a person like him, three eyes or no, would not draw much attention. An apartment complex, where people did not ask for your name. Did not ask for your number. They asked for rent. Not much at that (still it was too high for a place like this). The shouting matches of the couple across the hallway probably kept half the inhabitants, him most certainly, entertained for several nights a week, while the three males from the third floor were in some regularity visited by sumdood, who just happened to sell things that would lead to some prolonged visit to the hotel of closed doors. (And considering their collective intelligence was no higher than a cucumbers it was unsurprising they did not know the new proprietor of 'Apartment' two on the second floor knew about them) It was a place where people who found him could disappear and he could leave the bodies around the corner. And remain fairly safe.

The person from the mirror, now with baseball cap, looked back critically out of steel colored eyes. The baggy pants that sagged down his legs and, had not an oversized t-shirt prevented it, shown part of his backside, had taken some getting used too. At least nobody questioned his stylistic choice of heavy-duty army boots to go along with them. And neither did his attire reveal the fact that he was wearing his knife hidden underneath. At all times that was with him now. When people tried to kill you that taught you to be on your guard. Walking with those pants was difficult though. Nonetheless he had managed. Just another poor kid thrown out from home. Just another real-life story. Not his though. And so he had become, if not part then at least accepted, as nonforeign entity in the apartment house. As for the other things... they were their own story. The mirror image half nodded.

Walked out of the bathroom, leaving behind the certain smell of mold and urine. Smells of bathrooms without flowery perfume. There was no need for that here. Walking down those stairs he knew. The couple was fighting again. Money seemed to be the reason. Or a new friend on one of the partners part. He could not tell quite clearly, even though the voices were audible long after he had passed unto ground level. The accent was too heavy for his ears.

Turned into a shortcut that he had taken to using. Where to? People needed to work. Or at least work out. Heading for the gym. Just walking along. Another person from the hood.
"Eh! Did you hear me?"

Yes, Martin did hear quite well. The noises of fighting, of people wanting, of power waxing and waning. Just cracked his knuckles as he continued at a moderate pace. You did not hurry here. Even when gravel and dirt crunched below your feet. Even when somewhere farther down in the shadows someone might be dieing. Running was suspicious. It was loud and messy. It was very much unlike him. Prom one of the deep pocket of his pants (That thing was already attempting to slide down even further) he pulled leather gloves worked with that little local flavor that left burning marks in your face. A certain thing could be said for the culture of the neighborhood. It was very straightforward. So was he as he walked through the shadows.

Someone trying to pull out a gun from his belt to shoot at a person he could net make out clearly from his position. Could not make out, because he was already beleaguered by a crowd. Many on one? That smile was still there. „Care to take a shot at me instead?“ Practice session. Here I come. He would not need to go to the gym after all.

Sloth wasn't going to stop... she knew that... but, what was she supposed to do? Someone had tried to mug her, she was only acting in self defense... or... maybe it was only self defense until they stopped breathing. She heard the male gasp, and felt the white snake tighten again. Something popped, like a bone from a socket... and her stomach flip flopped. Was it her fault, that they had attacked her?

"...Sloth..." She muttered, her voice small and tight, and turned. "..Let him go..." It was a stretch, expecting the snake to understand, or listen for that matter. It was clear that she had caught them off guard... in a way she had won. There was no point in continuing the struggle. Lifting one hand to her face, her removed her glasses, and laid the other upon Sloth's thick body. The snake tensed for a moment, before relaxing. He had just been about to try and swallow the guys head- jaw unhinged and all... but his host was distracting him. Andrea removed her glasses, dropping sad orange eyes to meet the males.

He was young.. with a few scars dotting his face here and there. She assumed he must have had a hard life- which was why he and his fellows had attacked her. It was... sad. The anger washed away from her heart and was swiftly replaced with guilt for her actions. She pulled sloth away, un-looping the confused snake from around the guys shoulders before it had a chance to realize what was going on. Once the serpent had been removed, the male slumped to his knees and cracked an eye open to look up at her. It only took one glance, and he went stiff as a board. She sighed, unaware of what the other two men were up to, and struggled with sloth to get him back around her shoulders.
~
Tyler froze upon hearing a man's voice pop up from behind him. He palmed his gun as he took a few surprised steps forward then turned and pointed it at the new figure. Some guy... who didn't really look all that intimidating. "Man, are you crazy!?" His voice shook slightly, as he tried to put on a brave front. The streetlight closest to the pair flickered, casting sudden darkness over the alley. It frightened the boy so much that he lost his nerve and fired a single shot at the wall- trying to scare the new guy away with a show of violence. "I ain't joking man... I'll take you out if you don't scram."

The third boy had more of less recovered from the pain of being blinded by her venom... Fear and panic overtook him, followed swiftly by a burst of anger. Andrea finally noticed he figures off behind her when the shot was fired by the boy. She flinched, gasped, and pulled Sloth closer to her. The boy she had blinded heard the shot and more of less freaked out. Sudden blindness could do that to a person... Reaching to his side, he pulled out his own knife- one that was two inches smaller than the six inch blade on the ground- and got to his feet. He started swinging wildly with the knife, hearing Andrea's sharp intake of breath. A lucky strike sent the blade neatly through her coat and sliced a good gash into her right arm. The sudden attack caught her off guard, and sent her crashing to the ground.

There once was a boy named Tyler
Tyler was a boy from Nantucket (The local Hood)/
His gun was so new he could pluck it/
Right from the back of his pants...

But Tyler, the boy from Nantucket
Didn't know that he stuck it
Right in the face of a foe – woe
Who would should he so desire
put an end to Tylers fire
And leave him bleeding on the ground
where he would be found
by a boy from Nantucket
Whose name was not Tyler at all.

Apparently the local culture also had in store this wonderful bit of human waste for evening entertainment. He was reminded of cheap networked shows that seemed quite popular in the surrounding buildings, where, in an effort to cope with the costs of production, ever new (and severely untalented) faces appeared to be struggling with a bad case of Bells palsy. They were also trying to tell you about their miserable life. Looking at them, even on television, especially on television, made Martins life quite miserable, too.

But back to the gun-brandishing youth, who was now being faced by one of his own it seemed. One hand of the boy with gray eyes went under his shirt, tugging free the long bit of black steel that seemed a void in the flickering streetlights. A living shadow. Ready to take life, he really was. And, just for good measure, he broke reality. That bit send his head spinning slightly, as he moved, in no dimension any other could understand, to pull apart the very fabric of being, pulled with every bit of himself, until he felt stretched thin, reduced. Outwardly, his eyes changed, the color in one disappearing completely, as he himself stretched, longed for the breaking, the end. The other... was getting blacker, drops of oil swimming up into the blue surface by the second. Rising up in a pool of particular unpleasantness.

The other fighter went down, slashed by a knife. Like his and so unlike. Tyler was still standing there. “So... mines longer.” Just to bring the other into reach as well. And he stumbled on, wildly slashing, just into the right direction, while Tyler
the body from the hood,
looked not so good,
for he was afraid he would not get paid,
Tyler the boy from Nantucket.

The blinded youth swung a few more times, before he tripped and was sent crashing to his knees again. His freehand bumped against the other knife that had been dropped- he was quick to snatch it up. His face contorted as he pushed himself back to his feet, causing the skin that had been affected by Andrea's venom to crack, and chip. Flakes of skin as hard as stone, and the same color clattered to the ground. An new, deeper groan of pain left him, and he brought the back of his hand to his newly bleeding eye- and found that he could see, if just barely though it. Andrea was behind him on the ground, nursing a knife wound that she hadn't seen coming. The boy caught Tyler in his limited vision, gun raised and pointed at some new guy, and he let out a wild and angry scream before rushing toward the two with both knives in his hands...

Tyler did not, repeat: DID NOT, like the attitude the guy in front of him held. One shot already fired, and he wasn't backing down. Even more, he pulled out a knife. The look in the guy's eyes was intense, and Tyler wasn't sure if it was just his eye playing tricks on him, or if it was the lighting- but he could swear he saw some crazy s*** going on over there in the dudes expression. He steeled himself and angled the pistol back toward Martin. "Stay back..!"

Unluckily, Tyler was a horrible shot, something he was aware of as he pulled the trigger again. The knife wielding fellow closed in just after the shot was fired, and quickly brought up one of his blades in a heathen manner, aiming for the chest of the man wearing the baseball cap. Tyler saw it happen to slow, and reached out to pull his friend back. He was in no condition to fight with his face all messed up and bleeding. "No..!"

Back over by the comatose boy, Andrea hissed though her teeth as she gathered herself up from the ground and reached for her glasses. She slipped them back onto the bridge of her nose as she hurried to get to her own feet, and moved to take shelter by the apartment building as another shot was fired. She didn't know what was happening, but after the air had quieted she heard another voice and turned her eyes to the scuffle off toward the entrance of the ally. A light flickered on over head as the last of the days light was swallowed up by the shadows of the buildings around them. She glanced up briefly as it illuminated her, reaching back to tug her hood had up into place, then turned to watch the scuffle once more. It was wise, just in case anymore bullets were let loose...

The shots boomed through the alleys in short succession. Twice a muzzle flash lighting up the faces of the two young criminals like a flashlight for a second, one small eternity for Martin, who took his time, a good look at them, to study these faces, these pitiless faces, so young, much too young to be anything but scared at the prospect that was opened before them now. Nonetheless they were hardened, shadows cast by the folds in their skin, creases of worry, of determination. They would not stop. Two flashes of the muzzle. The first to scare, the second... for good care? Taking care of him they were, they were supposed to do that. Why did they have to be so young? A bit of sadness floating over, just to lightly touch his mind from far away. Like clouds in the sky. Lightly on his cheek.

A bullet was flying towards him, he knew it was going to when he started the gesture, raising the hand that held not the knife. The fact that it was going to miss him, because the criminal could not shoot, that was not the reason. He raised his hand, palm open towards them, the two of them, young as they were. His strange eyes, now completely alien, looking at them. One black the other white. Solidly colored. The third one, the one having turned to the color of his iris was still hidden under the cap. Everything was different now. He could see that. Shattered around him the world. Just like that. He was straining inside to keep it so. And he denied them the satisfaction of seeing him even so much as flinch.

The bullet was spinning while it flew towards him, towards the thing that extended outward from him like a bubble. So slowly death was creeping in. Coming closer that little present, bit of metal, only to shatter, being ripped apart as it tried to enter, where it was not willed to be. A small cut was running down the surface skin of his arm. Oh well. His hand dropped again. There was no sound of impact, no bursting stones behind him, where the bullet should have landed. “You see... sometimes you should not pick a fight.” But he did not stop there, he did not stop as the boy told him to. He went on, ignoring the part of him that wanted to find the victim. First preserve. Not become victim himself. Teach a certain lesson that was to be learned today. One bleeding and insecure, the other with a gun... He denied both of them seeing a human, advancing at them now, with all strength and agility he could muster. Agility that was a lot. Speeding out like lightning. Well maybe a little slower. Stupid pants slowing him down.

Victims. He had thought him one too, so plural. They could punch your face with local culture. Especially if you were already bleeding there.

It was a satisfactory feeling, that moment when his fist connected to the face of the first one. She could see the shock, impact, travel through the body from the side of the face where he had hit. Eyes rolling up into the head before he even touched the ground. It hurt slightly less then expected, too. A bonus unlooked for. The second one, the one with the gun though, he got less lucky. Seeing that he had brought up his weapon and was trying to fire it in his face that was probably allright. Even as the trigger finger twitched, the black lifeless thing in Martins other hand connected, having been set into motion just as the fist had been sent out. Preemptive strikes.

Needless to say, the second one never got to fire his third bullet. Needless to say that paramedics would not be able to help him. Certain points in a human were not made for being opened up or broken. It just was that way. And he happened to know some of these points.

Two down. One to go? He turned to face the cloaked victim. His partner in crime. Had it really been?

Everything flashed by in a blur to her... Three people tussling in the semi dark, one more calm than the others. A boy with a knife- one with a gun... and then... only one remained standing. She could see a baseball cap and a glinting blade, and the fear that had been buried under her spike of anger swelled until it over took her. The streets feel silent around them, no more cry's or gunshots would be heard... Somewhere off in the distance the blaring, booming beats of someone's music could be heard.

...cop's would be slow to show up in such a neighborhood, if at all.

Andrea's eyes dropped to the dark figures on the ground. One had a newly broken jaw to add to his list of injuries, while the other...well, he wouldn't be getting up any times soon... Andrea couldn't the damage he had been dealt from the distance between them. She couldn't see the red dripping onto the gravel, staining the dirt a muddy brown. It was a good thing, all in all. Still, she needed to only glance once more to the dark blade shaped object the new fellow had used to take one of the guys down, and her hackles raised.

Whoever it was... he didn't look very friendly... He stood so calmly, and yet someone had just fired a gun at him. She got a bad feeling, and the urge to flee over took her. Her injured arm throbbed and burned, a pretty great distraction for someone who was not used to getting stabbed.. but she tried her best to ignore it for now. There would be time later to whine over the damage and fuss over how she was going to clean it up... Right now, she needed to decide what to do...

Her eyes didn't budge from the other male, like he would spring forward at any moment and attack. She felt her legs twitch as energy from adrenalin washed into her muscles and she turned, reaching up while doing so to swiftly tug her hood back up into place over her hair. Her sandals crunched against the pavement as she more or less bolted for the opposite end of the alley, where she hoped another exit would be found. She was completely comfortable with never finding out who the mysterious and ominous figure was, so long as it meant that she could pick up her trail and make her way back home before someone else decided to attack her...

Unbeknownst to the fleeing woman, her Mr “mysterious” was firstly acquainted to her and secondly quite adamant about making sure that she was at least somewhat well. Asking for her – her was most likely given the cloak – to be completely unharmed was something that was so unlikely, he did not even consider. And if that cape was some new kind of gang gear s/he would soon find out that Martin did not tolerate well being tugged into gang wars. Much better to send a different kind of message then.

But firstly: To catch the subject in question. She was heading the way he usually went to the gym, so he knew the way well enough. Up ahead would be a passage nearly blocked with refuse. Quite delightful really. It would slow the suspect. Maybe enough. So after he went. Silently as he could. To... jump her from behind if he could? The fact that he was bloodied and left one and a half corpses behind did not really find much concern in his mind. Nor the question as to how the suspect would view him. He would follow after. Just to make sure business was finished tonight. Just to make sure all ends were tied. Garotte around the neck.

The path ended before her with a fence, one she didn't realize was only wedged in place and not locked. She rattled it lightly for a moment, before reaching up and grabbing onto the fence with a hand. She attempted to pull herself up, but her injured arm throbbed suddenly- and something felt like it tore. All of the sudden the pain she had been ignoring became too much to bare, and she was forced to drop back to the ground. She couldn't see the injury in the dark... but she could feel warmth dribbling down her arm.

...and... she kind of felt dizzy all of the sudden.

The little boost of adrenaline was all but gone... and she could see no other way out of the ally. Her eyes feel on a few tall trashcans to her left and she wobbled her way quickly behind them. She found that squatting only made her feel more dizzy. Her eyes were drooping, and no matter how hard she shook herself she couldn't keep them open for very long. The stress of the situation had taken ahold and was running amok on her nervous system. The gash in her arm wasn't helping matters... and was a lot worse than she had given it credit for.

Blood loss and a little bit of hyperventilating finally did the trick when her head tipped back and she was out cold. Her snakes were left wondering what exactly was happening. Each of the six slithering black bodies inside her hood nestled back further, and let their tongues do the work of alerting them to possible danger. Sloth on the other hand coiled himself into striking position on Andrea's shoulder, and waiting for whatever had given her a fright to show up..

that graffiti, gang smear that it was in green and blue, just a teenager screaming for attention (where had his mother been when he was born?) as usual. Loudly hormone raging. His breath was going faster. A little. Gangs. Criminal minds. Could be pretty good neighbors if given the right encouragement. He would need to try sometime. Flying through darkness, nearly, just some lights overhead, here and there, the back of buildings (they were afraid here too? The concrete walls were quite durable) standing guard along his way.

There the fence, clustering around the edges of the opening (now closed) sharply cutting off, just across the path the cans of refuse. Strewn among them, just like a forgotten piece of paper (the one that saves your house) she lay. A person like mildew spawning on the pile. The smell of blood was hidden by something more ugly. Same thing had caught her merrily, though. It had its uses.

He approached warily, half-suspecting (he near-always was) what he could. White flash. Slithering.- It was good this time. In his black-gloved –yes he had put them on – he had caught, not quite by reflex as he had seen it coming, the white appendage of Andreas'. Firmly closing, just around the head the way they do it on the discovery channel. Maybe a little more... effectively. The snake was actually still moving though. Trying to strike out... So, little guardian how's your mistress? Thats what he thought. (And he questioned her senses for keeping something like this around her if running) What he said was: “My what do we have here?” In a voice that was not merry, was flat actually, flat like the plains of northern Germany. The snake hissssssed its contempt. Well tried to maybe. His fingers only dug more firmly into the sides of its head.

And then he started to bend down towards the fallen bolt of cloth. Maybe not the best reaction ever? After all: He only had one more free hand.

Sloth did not like the strangers hand on him, and he disliked the way his fingers were digging into him as well. It hurt, and he had done nothing worthy of such pain... save trying to protect his mistress. The large snake snapped his jaws shut, his many rows of needle like teeth vanishing behind white scale covered lips. His orange eyes remained locked on the man however, one a bit difficultly seeing as his head was angled in an odd way. He contracted his muscles, pulling himself toward Martin, intent on wrapping his body up and around the man's arm-- but forgot that he was unfortunately attached to the green woman behind him. His efforts tugged Andrea enough that she toppled over as Martin leaned over towards her, and was shaken away from her feinting spell.

Unfortunately, the action also caused her hood to shift and the snakes hiding underneath were jostled into going on the defense. Avarice took the lead, slipping out from under her hood to angle his eyes up at the looming figure of the man. The others were quick to follow, and six angry hisses filled the air as the serpents coiled themselves into striking positions. Andrea cracked an eye open at the sounds, feeling more lightheaded and groggy than she had before feinting. Her hood slipped off completely, and she was jostled again as Sloth tugged more.

"...mmm, Sloth... stop that..." Her tiredness was evident in her voice and she raised a hand to pull him back to her without trying to lift herself from the ground. She was tried, and for the moment it didn't matter that the ground was kind of wet, and something in the air smelled like old spaghetti. Sloth resisted, and for a moment she didn't realize it was because someone had a hold of him... when she did notice, she jumped and attempted to scramble back- an action that was quickly halted by being anchored to the captive white snake. The smaller snakes reacted to the sudden burst of fear by snapping out at the air in warning.

Hisses. Lots of hisses filling the air. Concerto in S(nake)-Moll, a prelude by... Well somehow he was reminded of a concert by the multi faceted unblinking stares directed at him. And the tongues flicking out of mouths, just gathering. Smells from the air. Just your soul wanting. Snapping out at him, his hand holding the white bit of flesh, that had, seconds before, tried its body at moving, jerkily, fluidly, aggressively... Futility. But not in some ways.

The unveiling of green flesh brought with it strong memories. As the folds of cloth fell away he remembered seeing green before. Several times. It was so distinctive. Important. Andreas' face recognized despite the recent alterations, just shifting somehow into place in his memories, wiggling like the snakes that were her hair. Alive somehow. That thing smile appearing on his face, just like it had been there all along, was that natural? His hand released the pressure on the white snake. Suddenly. It was gone. And he stepped back a few inches, raising the pals of his hands upright. It was probably the display of animalic fury directed at him. Probably. Who could say but the enigma that was the other person in the dialog. That was not one yet. That thin smile was sharp as a razor. Just as it always had been.

Maybe just for memories sake. No mercy here. Just memories. Raised his hands were still ready to strike out at something. Anything that might come his way. Especially a snake. And so... he was offering up something. Not the advantage maybe. Just a bit of information. “There is no need to be hasty.” The odd accent he carried had been smoothed by time. Edges taken off. At least when he wanted the off. Just like his hands raised. Every bit of him. Here by choice. Here in danger. DANGER(o)us

It was rather hard to concentrate with hissing at her ear, while trying to flee to safety-...which was not happening, as it would appear. The somewhat painful tugging of the large snake at the base of her neck while it wiggled in the mans grasp was uncomfortable, a pain she had never felt before- like something was threatening to come out of socket. Then, before she could open her mouth and complain the tugging stopped and sloth retracted back toward her chest. The other, smaller serpents didn't want to give up the fight so readily, however, so the hissing remained to jostle her nerves and set her on edge.

Shifted herself back quickly, the Greek bumped into the fence behind her and froze. She didn't know why the stranger had let go- perhaps Sloth had bitten at him- but she was free for the moment... and he had backed off a little bit. She righted herself on shaky feet, futility tying to will away the crashing waves of dizziness her nerves had left her with. The figure spoke, a voice that was... oddly familiar, but in a way she couldn't put her finger on. Drawing in a short breath, she set about restraining her hissing children.

"...ah...sorry..." Gulping, Andrea forced herself to fully stand, but remained leaning against the fence for support- as far away as possible. It was nearly impossible to make out facial features in the darkness- what with her sunglasses handicapping her even further, but she could see that he was the one with the hat. The one with the knife... "I hope he did not hurt-...hurt you..." Her eyes darted past the man, to the shadows behind him. A frivolous thing to say, really, considering all of the damage she had already done. She felt shame tingle to like again as she calmed back down, but it was quickly replaced by a soft anger. She was apologizing again... for something that had been more or less out of her hands.

The gorgon's lips thinned into small, aggravated line without her knowing. Sloth's agitation flared to life again instantly, along with warning hisses renewed from her dark mop of hair. "Shush!" It wasn't the first time she had snapped at the snakes, and from the tone in her voice Sloth knew to back down. It kept a beady orange eye on the male who smelled like blood, but curled up obediently onto its mistresses shoulder. Thankfully, the hissing ceased...

Taking a shuddering breath, she turned her attention once more to the man. "Thank you for... for stepping in when you did." Not that she was in any better of a position, though... There wasn't really anywhere to run and she doubted that she would make it past on either side fast enough to pass him by. But.. if given no choice she always had the option of removing her glasses again. Her despised trump card... Whether or not the action would prove quick enough to save her from getting-...er, what did they call it these days? Oh, yes ... -shanked by a stranger in a smelly alley, she did not know.

Adjusting herself on the fence, she tried to make sure her arm was free of a clinging serpent while keeping her eyes warily on the male. She didn't know what exactly he wanted... but she figured if she waited for him to speak again she would no doubt find out.

Hiss, hiss, hiss, little snake. Hiss and hate me all you want. You aint gonna get me. Never. Ever. He watched as the snakes voices spoke to him of hate and destruction. The will of destruction at least. He was too big for a meal after all. And miss snakey was presently in the process of getting back her grip on reality. Somewhat. It might just have been the fact that she had gotten a good grip on the fences steel wires behind her. It was bulging outwards slightly under her weight. The posts on which it had been affixed were making slightly groaning noises that sounded much too human in that non-good way that lets you know things are about to get a bit wonky.

Things were wonky already. Having taken care of robbers. And having snakes direct hateful glares at him from the head of a perfectly green lady. (My green fairy, it is time you come to visit me) With snakes. Growing out of her skull. Delighted to meet you... and the whole zoo. I think I know you. I really do. But could you restrain your hair? I men its not like a good slab of gel will do the trick.
His cold grey-blue eyes remained fixed on her face. Passive, he seemed to be taking things in. Again. The way she spoke, her soft accent. The way her hair moved around in angry ringlets that were totally ready to start wrapping around his flesh. And maybe add a little venomous bite. Just for good measure. Voluntary. My presence is voluntary. My speech as well.

As the hair was presently being restrained into a kind of shawl, Martins hands moved to his sides. He slouched down slightly. Just a stranger talking. It was quite odd maybe, how quickly he could shift. How quickly his contexts changed. “This is not a good area for taking strolls.” (He should know better anyways) No reference to either the attempt at apology, nor on her thankfulness, which was rather appreciated in the way he bent his head. Down. Lightly. In a sort of nod. Sort of different. A few pieces of glass, shards, were ground into the ground by his foot, as he took a step back. Crunch. Just like that. End. “Considering you were unconscious, it wold be indicated to get a drink.” Yes. Young-looking people from the hood could talk like that. And mean something perfectly legitimate with drink. Water. But what do you think? My roles are changing. Shifting my identity. Positions.

Why was that fence still creaking?

He backed off again... She felt her shoulders relax, but forced herself to remain at least a little tense. If anything, it made her feel like she was at ready for something... whatever that something ended up being.

She eyed him for a moment, still and quiet, before she resumed trying to secure her hair. Simply sweeping it back was not working, and neither was trying to keep her hood on. The snakes were just too agitated to remain still for any length of time. The fence behind her groaned under her weight, which would have insulted her if she had been thinking properly. She was no longer the skinny waif she had been months prior, though the fence wouldn't- couldn't have known that. She glanced suspiciously behind her for a moment, wondering absently if it was possible for a metal fence to sass someone, before shooing such an odd thought away and turning her attention back to the situation at hand.

He spoke again, leaving her with the same odd feeling of remembrance, and she felt one corner of her mouth twitch. She nearly frowned. Not only was it infuriatingly annoying not knowing what exactly she was remembering, but what he stated set her on edge.. and she couldn't really place as to why. Maybe it was just her current mood, or maybe it was the stress still playing with her nerves. She could feel urges, like those of her serpents- the want to lash out and bite... and it frightened her in a way.

"... Most places are not good for taking strolls these days." She replied. Sure, a dark alley wasn't the safest place in the world, but neither were open city streets. Her last public outing had proven that. Painfully so. "It is far safer for me here, than out amongst the crowded sidewalks." ... and safer for everyone else, too. Her arm was starting to throb... an odd kind of pain that she wasn't familiar with. Breaking her sheilded stare with the man, she turned her chin and lifted a hand to touched at the pained area. She couldn't feel anything through her gloves, but the flesh under her fingers protested at being touched and the tips of her fingers came away slick with something. She could assume what it was, as she gathered the rest of her scattered thoughts.

He spoke again, mentioning her being unconscious and needing a drink. Nonsense... she hadn't passed out, had she? She had only closed her eyes for a moment. Taking a jerky breath in, she shook her head and pressed herself back against the fence again. She didn't need water, she needed her bed. Nice, quiet solitude... and maybe a few stitches. "I... " The fence groaned, interrupting her, but she ignored it. "I am fine... I do not need any help, it is just my nerves."

Why did getting stabbed have to hurt so much? Everyone in the movies shrugged it off, nut all she wanted to do was whine about it and take a nap until the pain stopped. It was a greatly annoying distraction. Muttering a Greek curse under her breath, Andrea looped her fingers thought the links of the fence, putting her full weight on it as she gently tested her arm. It creaked and groaned again as the hinges holding it upright were shaken loose from their bolts. The entire thing toppled over so fast that she was unable to catch herself before she was taken with it. The Greek turned slightly, her fingers caught in the the links, and was taken down for an ungraceful face-plant into the twisted metal. She heard her glasses crack upon impact, the buttons on her coat caught in the links and were sent flying violently in different directions as she rolled and flopped onto her back. She tasted metal... and probably nasty alley ground, and wrinkled her nose in disgust. Sloth hissed in annoyance, wriggling for freedom from under her shoulder, and the other snakes echoed the sentiment.

Andrea felt her cheeks heat up as embarrassment took over, replacing some of her anger. Brown in the face, she righted herself into a seated position, clutching her injured arm to her ribs as she plucked at her damaged coat with the other. She was missing three of the four buttons, and her face hurt. "... na pari i eychi!" Her coat was not going to close properly, anytime soon... With a huff, she swatted snakes from her vision and gently touched the crack that ran down one dark lens of her glasses. Just a crack. Not broken. At least they had stayed on. Ah... but god was her arm starting to hurt now!

A glass of water didn't sound so bad anymore...