Like Worm from Bird and Sheep from Wolf (Closed- Errante/Zev)

The scent of blood filled the diffused deeper into the air with every passing moment. Like a solitary rose, it's petals blown wildly by wicked winds, the smell was beginning to spread throughout the town. Little pockets of red so as to inform the reciprocate that something had been broken. Something had been destroyed.

"Little man... didn't think he had strawberry. But he was all strawberries on the inside. How stupid to hide them... just like the money he wanted. Quite a lot of people are," The piter patter of unstable footsteps along the sidewalk had become much more natural... yet still wholly unnatural to all who observed, "It's a shame he kept the strawberries so warm... they would go out of date so soon if I hadn't taken them."

The tub, clutched in his left hand, was more liquid than iced cream. More red than plain vanilla. Brimming to the top with what was perhaps not the intended beverage, yet it had many times the flavour of that bland initial extract, who would want something so plain as vanilla. How quaint. How boring.

The lampposts spilled yellow hues, coating the boy as he wandered alone through the desolate night. Their brightness lessened by the dense fog which had ingested the town. It was strange to observe a main street this way, free of all the noise, yet still so hard to view. Free of all the people, yet still quite blinding The boy couldn't see three meters in front of him. But alas, without that headache would come another. That of the prickly thoughts within his mind.

Insatiable. Insane. Unstable.

Ideas flowed fourth alike a gaping wound. Things to test, things to study, things to push, things to break. Were people things? He supposed they were. If anything was something then people had to be things. But birds, bugs, bees... they were things to weren't they? Why was it they were second class to human shaped things? Even dog shaped things seemed to be more worthy than ant shaped. How bizarre.

His sword was still silent, slung on his back through his black leather belt. In recent days he'd heard mutterings and moaning's from the blade's lips... but nothing more. How lazy.

Errante continued to wander down the foggy highstreet, yellow lamps occasionally highlighting the mad man, straight down the pavement. The stench of the blood cup in his hand spreading throughout the town as it trickled through a hole in the bottom.

Nose twitching, Zev picked up a familiar smell. Not just blood. There was a strange way of is psychotic specimen that made the sense of blood uniquely putrid. Her eyes burned the night with white hot rage. But, she was afraid. She had only just recovered the courage to face humanity again. The last time they met, he wasn't the only monster. He almost had her. Just a few steps. There was blood in the air though. No mystery what he was doing. She knew what her parents would do. They'd stop him. Only, they probably had that option, right? She would just snivel like a coward again. She shook her head clean of its own poison. She'd kill him this time.

It wasn't a trick to find him. After all, he made no attempts to conceal himself. A murderer. Walking in plain sight, evidence everywhere, holding a glass of his victim's blood. There he was! Simply walking, in a city full of trained killers. How could they fight off Grimm? They can't even root out evil right under their noses.

Her hand trembled, the blade clattering in it's scabbard as it's glint met the light of the street. I'm no coward. End it. End it. End it!! She grit her teeth, emblazed eyes reflecting her ferocity. Crouching from behind, she seemed a tightly coiled spring of emotion. "Monster!!" She lunged, trying to strike the hand with the glass.

The cup was pulled from the boy's grasp, pierced straight through by the girl's blade. The sugary bloody liquid splattered the surrounding area as well as the coating the blade. He felt droplets of the substance run up and across his right cheek. For certain some of it would splatter upon whomever had the moxie to attack him.

The boy stumbled back a little, not so much shocked by the events as he was curious. He was certain he'd scared off all the gangsters from this area about a month ago, those he hadn't had been dealt with quickly. This was his turf, his territory as this time. Everyone should know to avoid it, so why didn't this person.

He tried to take in her person, something certainly seemed familiar; "Father?...Mother?...Joey?...No, no. I'll get this. Hold your boisterousness for a moment. I want to remember..."

The lilac-ete cocked his head to the side, attempting to take in her person totally. The blue hair, those eyes, skin seemingly clean of his bite-marks... where could she be from? When could she be from? He noticed something additional behind her, cocking his head further.

"Ahhhhh~" A grin grew, "The butterfly. Little kitten. My my, so thirsty so soon? You know you can claim your own meals, don't need to steal mine... I should punish you maybe, shouldn't I...yes. That seems like the Don's job to do. A punishment..."

He debated Ragnarock... the loss of a limb would very much prevent her from stopping him. But it made it harder to get meals on her own... he couldn't have that. Chopping off arms and legs like that, he'd have to feed her. That'd be fun for a while but ultimately boring.

"Teachers... use punishments like lessons... okay..."

The purple haired boy lunged forward palm horizontal and open. He aimed to grab the girl by the mouth. As he lunged however something changed. The boy's aura flared around him, he would become her deepest held fear. As if to make matters worse the hand was still sticky from the bloody cream he had been holding.

"Shhhh..."

The scent of blood, the taste at her lips and the horrid visual... the sensory overload could destroy her.

Aura:

Zev balanced her blade with his path for a mere fraction of a second, before Errante completely vanished. N-not possible! She barely had time to think as a hand covered her mouth. She couldn't even remember where her sword went. If she had dropped it, or even managed to draw it in the first place.

It was an odd sensation to remember. It seemed firm, authorative, or maybe just full of confused aggression. She could compare it to how her mother grabbed her during discipline. Something about high contact communication, or something. It was astoundingly similar, only without the long fingernails digging into her jaw, steering into eye contact. The blood offered a different dimension as well, but just as it was then, she was afraid. Enticed perhaps?

A tingle started at the edge of her ears, working its way to the back of her neck, and down her spine. The huntsman. Murderer. She was looking right at him. That was impossible right? He came back for her. He didn't find any sport in killing children, so he waited to finish the job. Her hands balled into fists to strike at the arm holding her. The impact fell more an a little short of expectations. Why did she fell so weak? Why did she feel so afraid. She spent a lifetime mustering, so that her hatred of this man would make the fear seem like a distant memory. She shook and let out a muffled scream of anguish and terror. She had to get away.

"Sticky, sticky, sticky~ This is quite the mess we're in and it's all your fault isn't it?" Her beat against his arm rang out, thick leather dress absorbing most of what little damage she could now deal, she'd be lucky to have left a light bruise on him. He ceased his semblance's aura expenditure, the vision surely vanishing from the girl's eyes but the impression it had left should never leave her mind.

He gently released, the sticky substance now spread between her mouth and his hand. He brought it up for a quick lick, the skin had done nothing to sour it's flavor... perhaps now it was even more enticing. The scent of her own fear and sweat mingled with that of the icecream man, the taste of course did to. Such different fears...

He lent down to her, like a truck driver did a deer he had hit. More annoyed about the lost time on their journey than the loss of innocence, "Have you learnt your lesson yet? Breaking into crane machines is the effective method, you should do things effectively. Don't track me down for blood, track if from the source Butterfly Cat... What was your actual name again? Blue hair, tail... you drank quite a lot from me. No wonder you think I'm a food source, it's like you're a real cat. Show up for food, scratch me up and think you can leave freely... tsk tsk."

The taller man moved his clean hand toward the girl, aimed to place a forefinger to her forehead, "If you try to run, this will just keep happening you know. You should settle this properly. Don't be so lazy, like our swords... ahh yes. Yours wouldn't talk either would they? Though they lacked mouths... guess it's more excusable."

"Come with me or kill me."

hp/aura:

Zev couldn't understand what he was. Was he a monster, or a manifestation of retribution. It was because she couldn't stop the huntsman wasn't it? Tears welled up in her eyes, as she slumped to her hands and knees. What would her parents expect of her here? She was just counting so many black souls. Hers was one of them. The blood was calling her to accept the thing's offer. The scent was drowning her throughts, even though she had begun to wipe it away, the smell refused to leave with the stain on her face. Her body was convulsing with confused shivers. Anticipation, fear, the feeling of sickliness.

Her arms covered her stomach, her lungs drawing breathes desperately from the empty air. She glanced at her blade, eyes narrowing. She needed to solve her divine hatred for this person. The only question was if it was within her reach at all. Without any more warning, she dove, grabbing onto her blade and rolling to her feet. She staggered to remain balanced a short distance from the beast. So dizzy. She huffed, rubbing one of her eyes, trying to gather focus. She wanted to speak, to warn him of the atrocities she would put him through. Her throat was a desert, however, and only a raspy whimper escaped it. She was embarrassed. She was afraid. She was ready to kill something.

"I see..."

The black blade drew from the boy's back, red painted lips glimmering in the moonlight. White stripe highlighted by the streetlights. His pale skin looked sickly grey, like some abomination of nature. No cold sweat poured down his brow, no goose-pimples coated his skin.

His eyes contained their usual stare, looking past her more than looking to her. For, currently, she was no longer his butterfly. No more a cute kitty cat. She was a barrier, a wall, which had cropped up to stop him. A wall that, like all the others, would fall before him. Like manners. Like kindness. Like sociability. Like limits. There were no more limits.

He held his weapon like a child would a stick on a walk, battering the bushes and grass as he passed. Poking beetles and skewering slugs. Mindless destruction. A far cry from a huntsman and his primary weapon. It was morbid, it was gross, but he hadn't noticed. Like the child, he simply knew no better. He knew the other kids killed bugs, that they threw stones, that they ate meat. Who the bugs were, the stones were thrown at or who the meat was didn't matter. What mattered was that they were committing acts on death's behalf.

Like viper swallows kid whole, there was no difference if said child was a goat or a human. It was vicious and cruel.

"You're standing in the way of faith... you're another bug in the path of a human. The gazelle who strays from the pack, chewed up by the lion. Do you really want to be that? Do you want me to become you're reaper? This is your last chance, to stop my scythe after today..." His sword pointed to the sky above, the dense fog obscuring all around him, "It's not really going to happen, you know? Once death rings his bell... it's over. You go to be with everything else weak. He can't take back those loud waves."

He smiled a little, a tear rolling down one cheek. Eyes dull to the grey horizon, body swaying ever so slightly with his slow breaths.

The embodiment of innocence and childish ignorance. The embodiment of what was natural.

The way he looked at her was more unnerving than the sword he was pointing at her. The kind of childish stare you see from a child hold a magnifying glass over a trail of ants. Just mindless killing. Perhaps he didn't understand what he was. The things he did. It made it impossible to believe he was human. Just looking at him had the effect of having your blood pumped full of anxiety, and disgust.

"F-faith?" She pleaded, perhaps to herself. Or perhaps that was the difference. Humans killed things like her. It was only recently that people began treating her kind like one of them. Her tail flicked faster as she grew more flustered with this mind game. Was he pure death, or did her attributes make her less than a human? Less than a person.

Her eyes were bloodshot. She could do this right? The shivers would go away. She could beat him. His stance was absent minded, but was it because he didn't need to pay attention to a for like her? Maybe it was a trickI'm a person! She called, waving her blade like a ward of some sort."Things like you! You disgusting humans! I just can't kill you all fast enough!" She snapped, transitioning to the top of her lungs. "You all deserve to die!!" She lunged, making a violent and clumsy attack.

Spoiler:

He sidestepped the blade as though it were a poorly placed dodge-ball in a child's game, like the type which had soared a little too long in the air and was just a little too obvious. With a blink, a slight second stumble he plunged his sword passed her. The right armed thrust aimed to pass right by her shoulder, stumbling straight passed her. As he did however the left hand's harsh stone knuckle, like a viper with some great weight in it's stomach, should have come up to pound against the girl's porcelain skin.

Perhaps it could have been interpreted as a feint, some combat trickery, but in truth it was probably a mistake. The sword itself intended to pierce her side. Probably. Not absolutely, just probably.

The boy struggled to handle the weigh of his sword, scratching a deep gash in the concrete as he turned back to face the girl. As if to stop this becoming a problem, he switched hands... in a rather peculiar manner. Rather than grip the sword by it's handle the boy took it by it's thick, dull, edge. His long fingers barely wrapping around it's girth. He raised it in front of his body, holding it diagonally as if it were to be used to block. Well one would assume it was. But reading the don was like reading some ancient Atlas text, with no prior experience.

Damage:

Zev's eyes snapped to focus on the sword moving passed her, too occupied in thinking she had avoided it with her own movement to notice the fist coming to plant itself firmly into her body. Immediately a blue light filled the impact, marking the wounds fleeting lifespan. Never the less, she was staggered, and spared a string of violent coughs reacting to the impact before it's effect settled away to her semblence.

She grimaced in anguish, only becoming more aggravated with the fact that he had avoided her with such a deceptively sloppy movement. It was immpossible for her to tell if this was his way of toying with her, or if it was simply the way he fought under normal circumstances.

"Don't you dare try to play with me!" She demanded in primal ferocity. "Y-you think you can make me a monster, just like that? Just because you said so? You think I'm a pet to train?" She continued, playing onto the way he equated her to insect and animals. With how little there was known about him, one couldn't say if it was a thing of Faunus, or people in general, but her history and hatred assured her that it was prejudice.

Aiming her blade for another strike, she sprung for his leg, coiling to quickly retreat after the strike. This time, more carefully than the last, she sought blood.

Spoiler:

The blade prodded at the boy's leg, forcing a half step back as it met with the stretchy strong material of his black dress. He felt it but, due to the dress's stretchy nature enveloping the blade as it made contact, it felt more like he had been lightly bludgeoned than stabbed. As if he had been poked hard by the end of a pencil... yeah.

He let his semblance loose in response, the layer of hallucinogenic aura coating his body as he brought his foot forward. He didn't quite understand what she saw, this part was always quite interesting to him. People would see him as a giant snake, or covered in spiders, or as a dead loved one... these projections all things he had once observed. Eventually they became like background music to him, most of the time you hardly notice. Sometimes you wish it would stop. Other times, well, other times you love the music more than what's actually happening. Sometimes you get caught up in it.

Without thinking the boy blindly threw his strangely held sword at the girl, the large weapon spinning out of control as it hurdled toward her chest. The boy then stumbled forward after it, rushing head first toward her. Without blinking he rushed, thrusting his head just beyond her neck before pulling it back. Attempting to bite a chunk from her neck.

HP/AURA/ATTACKS:

Zev raised her sword in defense, just before the fierce look of her face had time to vanish. The Hunter appeared before her again. She felt a dull pain in her arm, the blade drowned out by her panic. She stumbled with the impact, feeling the man's teeth sink into her neck. The pain again seemed distant. The true discomfort was the disgust feeling the Hunter's skin on hers. She grit her teeth to cope with the skin crawling on her bones. She needed him away.

Raising a leg she aimed a heel-kick at the creatures core. She was far from ferocious. It was less fearless, and more akin to an animal having been backed into a corner. She had to stand her ground for now, but would likely flee if she gathered enough momentum. She raced to position herself between her opponent and it's weapon, then lunged to strike at his legs, aiming to unbalance him at least, before flinging a more dedicated strike at his chest. A bright blue string of light trail her movement from her wounds, the damage shrinking and vanishing with it.

Combat:

Errante's smile twitched as his body was torn from hers by a kick to the chest, not nearly enough to push him far really but he allowed himself to stumble away. Savoring the taste of sweat, fear and blood. He relished in that taste, so many emotions in the flavoring. The idea that someone could be so controlled by their fear, such a negative emotion, as he was by this taste...

Suddenly he was pulled from his feet by a low swipe, however he fell willingly for once. As her fist met with his chest he had her in close. Re-engaging his semblance as he met the fist he gripped at her shoulders, primed to push her flat against the ground. His rough grip clawed deep into her shoulders, without a second to loose he opened wide to latch his stained teeth onto the healed region of the wound. Be it above the ground or on it. He would keep her grip, both that of the neck in her mouth and that of her shoulders pinned by his hands. He was by no means heavy, especially for his size, but with the fear running through her he was sure escape would be difficult.

With that comp attempted, assuming he got and was able to maintain the pin, the thin man would eventually release. Bringing his head down to her shoulder and taking another deep bite. Through which he would mumble; "This could be you right now. You could be doing this to some unsuspecting bystander. To some government official. To me. You can still take that path and enjoy the taste..."

HP/AURA: