Martin was slowly working his way down a path - not one that could be seen, not one that had been walked often before - by feeling rather than seeing. Underfoot wet earth and grass gave off squishing noises of relief as the pressure of Martins weight expelled part of the wet as muddy syrup. It clung to Martins shoes and increased their weight slowly and inorexably as he made his way down the slope. Careful he was both for noises and for his path. Falling into a river swelling because of the rain was definitively not one of his favored exercise methods.

His eyes were focused on the shadows ahead, searching for the telltale things, the small ones, that unwary mortals left in their path. Beaten down blades of grass it would be in more favorable conditions. Now he was reduced to crudely blundering around hoping to find footprints in the muddy ground. Thanks to the darkness this was no easy excercise. Alas the way to go was pretty clear, reducing the amount of necessary hassle considerably. Martin was therefore not surprised that he soon found the indentations small shoes had left in the earth on their way under the metal structure that began peeling itself out of the darkness again.

Overhead the lights of a passing cab illuminated the sheets of rain for a short time, making the water sparkle as it was on its way to the ground. In the light a shadow started becoming a person, was becoming something of dark green. Thanks to this good fortune it was that Martin was forewarned of his rather perilous position. He did indeed remember Andreas rather particular ability. One look into her eyes and you were made unconscious. He had been on the receiving end on one of those looks some time in the past - and in his usual manner - did not intend to be victimized again. Therefore he immediately - upon seeing a small dark shape emerge in the hands of the huddled shadow under the bridge - he squeezed shut his eyes.

It would present him with difficulties at apprehending what had somewhat saddening become just another target. Those difficulties however he thought not to be insurmountable. And, because he was a nice killer without a conscience he spoke to her in measured tones. That reasonable voice you always want to hear. Fraternal, reassuring, saying that everything will be allright. But maybe not from the 20 year old face with the killer eyes.
“Andrea, why don't you put your glasses back on and come out of the rain?” Yes. So. Nice.

“Andrea, why don't you put your glasses back on and come out of the rain?”

The Greek froze, knees curled into her chest, and stopped breathing. Fear spiked, digging in icy claws. It was like the moment before a car crash, when you see it heading for you. There is nothing you can do save wait, and hold your breath. To Andrea at this moment in time, there might as well have been a monster lurking around out in the darkness, calling her name as sweetly as it could.

... but, no... no. She couldn't think like that. This was Martin, not some monster. This was the gardener, the friend who had found her and dragged to his home. He was kind... thoughtful... He could never, ever, do something so horrible. It had to be a misunderstanding on her end.

... it just had too.

Maybe... Maybe all she needed to do was sit down and chat with him. Yes... Surely he would explain, and in a different environment everything would be clearer. The red on his clothes... the strange white shape in the water. It was obviously not what she though it to be. Martin would tell her that. The Gorgon sniffled, dropping a gloved hand from her eyes, and glanced out to where the light from distant street lamps barely illuminated the scenery. She could see his shape... just barely, without her glasses on. Andrea pushed herself up slowly, shaking despite herself, and unable to stop the steady flow of tears.

Things lurking at the back of her mind were still screaming at her. Telling her to ignore her manners, to ignore the want for answers, and just run. The element of danger, the taste of it on the air, was driving sloth into a near fit. She settled her free hand on the great snakes body, her other still gripping her sunglasses, and took a tentative step out toward him

...Even if she wanted to trust him, if she truly wanted everything to be one giant misunderstanding, past experiences drove her to keep the glasses off. She had learned a lesson the hard way, the very same lesson that had taken the rest of her snakes from her, about ignoring her power...

"...M-martin..? I...I.. am sorry. I do not know what came over me..." Her voice stretched out, softer than she wanted and wavering. "..I have not been myself lately..." A sniffle ended her explaination, as a new wave of tears began to flow. She kept her eyes pinned on the ground, staring wide eyed at the hint of his shadow, and waited for him to answer her as she continued out of her hiding spot step by cautious step.