No Witnesses... [Private: Cabot and Cayn]

It was probably two o' clock in the morning.
What a great start.

One man was standing in an alleyway; he'd attempted to take a shortcut to avoid the police he was wanted by, only to realize it was a dead end. He simply shrugged and turned around, beginning to walk back out when the soft *thump* of an object hitting the ground echoed out behind him.
This man turned around once more, looking around for a second before laying his eyes on the shadowy, scarlet form that had now taken a standing position.

"Hey, you. The hell are you doing here?"
He spoke, giving the figure an un-amused stare, slowly reaching down to his belt for a knife.
The person simply tilted their head, giving this man the same stare.
"My, my. That's quite inappropriate language, Paul."
The man, known as Paul, shot off a confused look to the figure, which he now recognized as female.
"How do you know my name, girl?"
The woman took a few steps towards Paul, before stopping only a couple of feet away from him.
"Why, I know all about my targets, luv. Wouldn't be a very good assassin if I didn't."

In one quick motion, Paul swiftly took out the knife and simultaneously thrusted it towards the girl, who simply side stepped and followed up with a roundhouse kick to his hand, launching the weapon into the far wall, in turn getting it lodged into the small cracks in between the bricks.
The man grabbed his wrist, shaking it around loosely before shooting off another glare.
"So you've come to kill me then, lady? C'mon, bring it then."

The girl simply shook her head and let out a sigh.
"Being a low down anti-faunus gang leader can really get a big bounty on your head, you know? My name, is Cabot Von Hellsing, but I only know you as Paul.
And yes,
I'm here to kill you, luv."

Cabot slowly raised her foot into the air, before thrusting it down towards his; Paul back stepped to avoid having his toes crushed.
"Hah, you missed, stupid. If this is the best you've got, it'll be so easy to kill you."
A small split in the ground began to crawl it's way in jagged motions, slowly closing the gap between his feet and hers.
"Oh dear luv, please don't tell me you're this incompetent!
I mean after all, I never miss."

A small rumble came from the ground, and before Paul could even have time to react to the sound, a large, jagged, pitch black spike carved it's way out of the ground, thrusting through his chest and out the other side with little to no resistance. A small, choking gasp came from the man as he was suspended in the air, the poison from the abyssal colored rock spreading throughout his body and slowly killing him from the inside-out.
A red, sticky fluid began to etch it's way down the object, it's source being the chest of the man; soon enough the spike shot back into the ground, leaving no sign it was ever even there.
The man's body limply fell to the ground, face down on the pavement.

Cabot slowly stalked over, before roughly kicking his side, rolling him onto his back as a result. She placed on foot by his hip, the other on his chest and almost completely covering the hole made by her semblance.
"Y-y-you.... Bi-"
"Shut it, you filth. I don't wanna hear your bloody talkin' anymore, alright? You are beneath me, physically and metaphorically; a low life vermin that needs to be erradicated."

Cabot slowly lowered her lower half down, her face mere inches away from his. Her pupils were small, and her face was twisted into a look of wide eyed condescension.
"People like you make me sick, luv. It's people like you that need to die. I, personally, dislike killing other humans or faunus, but it's you people that take my eyes off of the Grimm to realize that we are our own problem."
Straightening her spine, her scarlet "cape" began to split, slowly inching away from it's other half before, in one swift movement, spreading out to the sides completely, revealing the large wingspan of her bat wings.

A sadistic smile carved it's way onto her face as she twisted her foot side to side, applying more and more pressure and giggling every time he groaned in pain.
"But, y'know, luv. There's one thing about you people I like."
"A-a-and... What would that be.....?"
She placed her hand on the holster of her gun, slowly drawing it and pointing it at his face.
"It's ssooooo satisfying when you shrivel up and die."
The man known as Paul let out an obnoxiously loud scream, of which Cabot would quickly silence; a small tilt of her head was followed by a pull of the trigger, firing the spear headed whip out of the barrel, and into the man's forehead.

Sure, he was already dead by now, but that didn't stop Cabot from flicking the switch on the grip of her gun and grinning in satisfaction as the serrated blades strewn throughout the weapon popped out of their slots, making a right mess of the dead man's skull.
Retracting the spikes and the whip, followed by holstering the gun, Cabot took out her scroll and quickly snapped a photo of the corpse, before putting her scroll back into one of her many pockets.

The girl folded her wings back up into the "cape" formation, kicking the body in the side and disgracefully spitting on it.
She stood with her back to the entrance of the alleyway, smiling in satisfaction at the pool of blood she was now standing in.

"I mean sure, watching your filth die is satisfying, but I like to do it for a different reason.
It gets me money."

Would it have been that Cayn had something to do at this time, or in the next day, them maybe he would not have been out this late in the night. After having spent most of his day doing nothing, the dog Faunus was restless. Yet he had nothing to repair, and no schematics to go over that he had not done so a thousand times already. That all led him having roamed the streets for the last few hours, with no real goal in particular. The weapon smith pulled out his scroll, looking at the time to see that he was a few hours into the next day. "Back to the dorms I guess." He muttered to himself, not another soul in sight to hear his words anyways.

As his feet turned towards home, Cayn pulled his fur lined jacket tighter around him and flattened his ears to his head to ward off the chill that he suddenly shivered against. His boots stepped softly on the stone streets, even that quiet sound echoed in the absence of any other. At least until they were drowned out by a scream. The Huntsman froze, and looked before and behind him only to see nothing that could have made that sound. "Shit, maybe I imagined it." He thought, trying to ignore it for now.

Passing an alleyway, so unassuming an normal looking that he wondered why he even bothered to look down them, but his eyes scanned the contents anyways. At first, all he saw was a person standing with their back to him and another crumpled on the ground. Grateful for his Faunus eyes, he looked for a second and then would have started moving on. After all it was not his problem to deal with people going about their own business.

The treads of his boots stayed rooted to the ground as Cayn threw his sight over everything nearby. He could smell blood, a strong iron smell that filled his sensitive nose. There were no Grimm in sight, who would have been the obvious culprit and probably the one that the weapon smith wished for most. "Why?" He groaned almost silently, lamenting to himself that he had to deal with this himself.

Although the dog Faunus would hope and wish that this was not how it had seemed, he would not move unprepared. With sword in hand, hung low to try and be as nonthreatening as possible, he moved a couple steps into the alley. "W-what's goin' on here?" Cayn blurted loudly. He could now see the blood that he could smell earlier, the crimson shinning in the moonlight as the living person stood amidst it all. Something clicked in the gearbox of a brain. "Did he scream?" He questioned, not sure why he asked the caped figure. As he waited an answer his hold on the falchion loosened and tightened in tension, knowing that whatever had happened, he was not going to like the mess that came with it.

No witnesses.

Cabot shuddered slightly as she heard a voice echo out from behind her, before letting out an exasperated sigh. She arched her spine inwards slightly, tossing a glance at the source of the talking over her shoulder.
The girl's eyes fell half closed in a bored stare as she looked at the man with her half upside down stare, letting out a quiet grunt.
"Oh good, a witness... How about you just move along, luv."
She spoke, her soft English accent filling the air as she slowly turned around to face the man. She lowered gaze and hands down to idly brush some dirt and blood off of her scarlet wears, before lifting her head back up to give the man a condescending stare.
You're bloody well right it was him, luv. Quite nice sounding if I do say so myself, eh?"

She quickly scanned over the man's body before noticing a shiny, silver colored object in his hand; a sword.
"Oh deary, deary me. That one's a lot bigger than what this poor sap was carrying."
Cabot motioned towards the bloodied corpse, a sly grin etching it's way into her face as she turned her gaze back, innocently tilting her head at the man.
"'Tis a shame, luv. You shouldn't 'a stopped here. I'll have to kill you now."

Cabot slowly reached down to her holstered weapon, flexing her hand as she wrapped her fingers cautiously around the handle.
"I'll warn ya now, you probably aren't walking away from this fight alive."
And with that, she essentially whipped the gun out, swiftly moving into a sideways shooting stance with her right arm outstretched towards the man, before she pulled the trigger, firing the spear headed whip out of the barrel and towards the newly found target.

The dog Faunus shivered again, but not from the cold. When the woman leaned backwards and began speaking, Cayn could only think of it as odd. But her words were anything but. "If only I could, I would." He spoke in reply to the offer to leave. How much he loathed the responsibilities that were given when he became a Huntsman. Or more so the ideals that were now to be his goal. "Can't just walk away from this." He had to interject quickly.

Cayn shook more visibly at the threat on his life. At least he knew who the culprit was, even if he still would rather not have dealt with this. His eyes were drawn back to the deceased party, and the pool that spread out from either his throat or chest, he could not tell without getting closer. An act he would only do if the woman was not there.

"Hey wait, I never said," He started to argue as he looked back when she mentioned something about fighting, he caught a slight movement in his peripheral vision. Had his reactions been any slower he would have taken the projectile squarely to his chest, though all he had been capable of was a quick turn it prevented the worst from taking place.

Cayn could feel a warm stinging across his chest, a scratch from the spear as it flew past. There was not time to dwell on that if he wished to stay alive. The Faunus's feet kicked off the ground into a dash, leaning into the run to make it as fast as possible. He pulled his arm back, ready to slash at the murderer when he got near. But changed his mind. If he killed her then it would just look like he was the murderer, and the annoyances of trying to handle that disaster would be painful. With his arm still back he pulled it in quick to his chest and spun into a heel kick aimed for the woman's abdomen.

"I never miss"

Cabot watched her whip fly past the fan after a simple turn of his body, although she did spot a small scratch across his chest from where it must have grazed him. A dreadful realization soon hit her, however; she had missed the crucial first shot, and he was now dashing towards her.
A careful eye watched his weapon hand as he closed the gap between them, tensing her muscles up as she prepped the dodge. What she didn't expect, however, was for him to pull his arm in and spin around before transitioning into a heel kick.

The girl took the blow straight to the abdomen, the momentum the attack carried throwing her off balance and sending her into a tumble off to the side. Her body hit the ground with a dull thud, her gun flying out of her hand and bouncing across the pavement as a result. She slid a few feet on her side before skidding to a halt, letting out a low growl and slamming her fist into the ground. Cabot slowly got to her feet, giving the man a death stare. She made a fist with one hand and thrusted it into her other, following it up with a methodical cracking of her knuckles.
Bloody 'ell luv; you put up more of a fight than that anti-faunus prick, I'll tell ya that..."

Cabot took back her death stare, exchanging it for a look of confusion and dismay as she realized she was no longer holding her gun. It was too dark to see it, and even still she doubted he would allow her the time to find and then pick it up in the first place.
A small *tch* was followed by a sudden dash forwards, but just before she reached him she threw her body low to the ground, curling her body up, save for her right leg, of which she extended out in an attempted sweep to take his legs out from under him.

The only feeling that mattered at the moment of contact was the force that Cayn's kick put onto the crazed woman. It was with some small satisfaction that he watched her tumble and roll from his strike, and as the dog traited Faunus put his foot down a smirk of triumph altered the lines of his mouth. One that was wiped away when the other stood back up.

Cayn knew that he needed to press the attack in the interim while she was talking based on what he was taught, but for some reason he thought it best to reply. "Sorry Sweetheart, but you're not gonna last long enough to see just how much better I am." The weapon smith bluffed, looking strait on at the glare that his attacker gave. He had maybe a fraction of a moment to wonder what it was that she said about the deceased being anti-Faunus, not long enough for any thoughts to form on the matter, before the brief respite was over.

Try as Cayn could to avoid the actions the woman took, his own feet became jumbled as he had prepared to sidestep to his left. His calf was caught by the sweeping kick, and an instant later his back cracked hard on the cool stone. His shoulder blades ached from the impact, but the tinkerer knew that he could not even waste a second.

Cayn flipped his sword around to hold it with the blade extending from the bottom of his fist, bringing it around in a hasty attempt to ward the attacker away. Whether he succeeded or not, his attention was elsewhere. Namely at the soles of his feet, where he sent his aura into the air. A pale blue platform of incandescent glass formed. The Huntsman used this platform to kick himself away, sliding into a pile of garbage on the other side of the alley. And away from the crimson coated woman if possible.

Graceful? No.
But at least it worked.

Cabot swiftly hopped backwards, before dashing back and spinning around into an axe kick. Upon bringing her heel down, however, she found that the man had, just in time, propelled himself backwards and away.
Little did the bat know, her foot was mere inches away from shattering the platform he had just kicked off of.
So then it happened.
Cabot first heard an ear splitting crash, followed by a few moments of nothing before a stinging pain injected itself tenfold throughout her leg. The girl fell onto one knee, her right leg strewn with glass and blood, loosely drug out behind her.
She cursed various times under her breath, slowly lifting herself back up into a standing position, however she was obviously favoring her right leg.

"Jesus.... Christ, luv... I bloody well felt that one... I dunno if tha' wuz even intentional or not, all I know is that it hurts like hell..."
She looked down, and to her surprise she only saw streams of blood soaking through her pants; no glass shards were left. She didn't know how long they had been gone, and up to that point she hadn't even considered it might be a semblance, but now she was beginning to think of it as a possibility.
"I don't know what that was, but I'm gunna make an educated guess it wuz your semblance, luv. I'll have you know that I also posses one of those..."

Cabot shot her large, bat like wings out to the side, stretching them out to their full length as she began to lift her blood soaked right leg up, pausing a few moments before roughly thrusting it into the ground. She grinned slyly as the small split in the earth carved it's way towards the man in sporadic jagged zig-zagging motions, rapidly closing the distance between them.

"Oi luv...
Dodge this."

Cayn could hear something shatter as he collided with the garbage on the other wall of the alley. A thought crossed his mind that it was something inside of him that made that noise, but there was no new sense of pain besides the throbbing of his head and stinging of his chest. A small flicker of light danced across his field of view, and though the Faunus knew that he needed to right himself quickly, his head was still in a daze. He pushed through that feeling though, and with a groan of discomfort stood up upon his feet.

As his vision righted itself quickly, the weapon smith took in a few new details. The first would be that the scent of blood had grown ever so slightly more, but he could not pinpoint the location. "I really hope that's not me." Cayn thought quickly to himself before focusing on the second new detail that grew quickly in his eyes. The crazed woman had sprouted out a pair of wings, large shadowed visages that blanketed out the area behind her. A connection started to form in the background of thought, something that the tinkerer could not focus on as the crimson clad lass started speaking again.

"Dodge?" He mused silently as the ground split and cracked in front of him. Cayn had no clue what to expect, only knowing that it seemed highly dangerous. His body knew that he needed to get away, and the best way to escape the fissure was by going up. With a small leap backwards, the Huntsman trainee pressed his back and the soles of his feet against the alley wall. With a shot he pushed off diagonally, trying to climb over the fissure into the air. But Cayn could not leap far enough.

As he moved through the air, the very ground shot up to meet Cayn. A sickly looking spike made of earth that threatened to end his life. Purely reactionary, the Huntsman put a wall between them, a simple sing pane of crystallized aura that he tried to push himself off against to move even further away. Even with the added effort, the dimly glowing blue glass cracked and shattered as a massive fount of pain swept over the dog Faunus's from his arm.

It's super effective maybe.

Cabot grinned in satisfaction as the shadowy spike shot up out of the ground and, in a few precious moments, struck the man's... Arm...
Her face was taken over by a blank stare as he managed to avoid the brunt of the attack, completely unintentionally without even knowing what her semblance was. She was dumbfounded. Almost every single time someone experienced her semblance for the first time they were impaled squarely in the chest.

The spike, unable to strike him square in the arm, simply gave his arm a very rough "shove", which would most likely either cause intense pain in the limb or make it go limp and numb for a while. Unfortunately, since it couldn't impale his arm, the spike just threw the appendage backwards, reaching the peak of it's emergence before shooting back into the ground.
The momentum from the strike not only would *probably* disable his left arm for a while, it would also send him into an uncontrolled spin, numb arm or not.

The bounty hunter soon realized where her gun had fallen. As she focused her gaze on the man she caught a brief glimpse of a sparkle in the darkness; a glimmer reflecting the moonlight.
Unfortunately...
The gun was in fact right in the general area of where the man would land. Of course, it would survive having the person fall onto it, but it was rather concerning her weapon was that far from her, and right beside her opponent.

The girl lifted her cut up leg, limply shaking it around and shuddering as her very own blood continued to creep slowly out of the slits the now nonexistent glass had made. Reaching down, she grabbed the leg of her pants and gently shook them; feeling the thick red liquid making her clothes stick to her skin she had decided to separate the two to the best of her abilities.

"God, luv... You really cut up my leg with tha' glass of yours... Oh, I do hope my semblance hurt just as much as yours did."

Cayn felt something snap, and the immense pain burned and flooded his senses from his arm. The world about began to spin violently as he was thrown from his course by the impact of the spike. The next thing noticed was the immense pain as he landed on the already damaged arm, if it had not been broken before the second shockingly strong flare of pain brought it to the dog Faunus's attention that it was now. Nothing would right itself, even the ground seemed to sway under his back.

He had to pull through though, as his life depended on surviving this ordeal. Cayn pressed his hands on the cold weapon as he slowly lifted his body into standing, his eyes watering uncontrollably from the throbbing. The weapon smith's left arm hung limp and unresponsive from his side, but no blood dripped from his numb fingertips. As his legs stood up again, Cayn could see the crimson clad woman leaning down to do something.

In response Cayn lifted his sword up to be ready in case she had another trick or two up her sleeve. But even to his own amazement what he was holding now was not the falchion he was accustomed to. Instead his hands held the grip of the strange spear launching gun that had been shot at him what felt like hours ago. Weapon smith though he was, the tinkerer had not yet handled a weapon such as this, nor guns in general. Still he would be loathe to relinquish this when he did not know where his own weapon was, so with shaky hands he pointed it at the murderer.

"An arm for a leg seems like a fair trade." Cayn rebuked sarcastically. His eyes cut as they decided where to aim the weapon, his original thoughts on not killing her thrown out the window in his need to survive. Settling his aim upon her chest, his hand shook more violently. With a heavy squeeze of the trigger, Cayn sent a projectile flying. But his aim was bad, and his own motion had brought the muzzle of the gun to point at the opponents head, not her torso.

Weeell...
Craap.

Cabot stared at the man, her psychotic grin growing wider as she took not that she had in fact completely broken the man's arm.
"Oh my, oh my, oh my oh my oh my luv! That's not very good! It appears I've broken your arm! Thahahahhh... Thahahahhahaht's tooooooooo ba-"
The bounty hunter's laugh was cut short and the sadistic smile as slapped off of her face as her own weapon was slowly lifted to point at her chest. The slightest hint of fear crawled it's way onto her face; Cabot's eyes dilated, transitioning into two small black dots surrounded by a vast expanse of white.

Her pupils analyzed the man's hand intensely; it was shaking violently, she could tell that much. A small scowl etched into her face as she tensed all of the muscles in her body. It seemed that whatever hand to hand combat they were previously having was now gone and he wanted her dead for his own sake.
Understandable, yeah, but she wasn't exactly too keen on dying tonight.
Or ever, really.

Everything she had was focused on his finger, waiting for him to finally pull the-
Bam.
As it turned out, the spear headed whip was now being launched at her face. Cabot threw herself to the ground, swiftly taking a crouched position as the projectile flew over her head. It felt like it hit something, but she dismissed it as her imagination.
An irritating ring filled her ears but she wasn't quite sure what it was, once again considering it nothing.

"You almost hi-........"

Cabot let out a small gasp, doubling over in pain and holding her head in her hands; she slowly reached up and to her dismay found her hat to be gone.
Sharp, shaky, and inefficient breathing shoved her regular oxygen intake out of the window, the girl slowly collapsing down onto her knees. Her 6.2" tall bat ears were now exposed and taking in every singular sound that was around, near or far.
A few more moments and Cabot had keeled over onto her side, curled into the fetal position and loosely grasping her head. Immense pain surged throughout the girl's body, as it sounded like somebody had turned up life's volume to 200%.

Weakly writhing around on the cold pavement, she looked awfully and uncharacteristically helpless and defeated; her wings had long since folded up tightly against her back.

Kick her, stab her, hit her all you want.
But as soon as you remove her hat...

Cayn watched as a length of wire or chain that he did not see when the gun had been fired at him launched out with a pointed tip at the other Faunus. Completely sure that the projectile had missed his intended point, the huntsman averted his eyes as he could see it was going towards the woman's head. He may have decided that killing was the safest route, but that still did not make the dog eared Faunus any less squeamish at the possibility.

When the weapon smith looked back he did so cautiously. What he did not expect was for the spear point of the projectile to have taken hold of the hat, head now no longer underneath it. Time seemed to slow compared to the face paced battle as he watched the bat eared woman lay on the ground and curl in pain. The thought that he had actually struck her was heavy on his mind, but given the circumstances not as much as they should have. In a whim of uncharacteristic cruelness, Cayn thought about kicking the crimson clad woman while she was down in frustration, no longer feeling the need to end her life to save his with the state that she was in.

Cayn pressed at something random on the gun as he wondered what to do now. Shocked he felt the weapon wind itself back into place, and reset as it was with the pierced hat sticking oddly from the end until he removed it. His arm still throbbed uselessly, but now that the initial shock was over he felt that it was bearable. For a time anyways. Still he winced as he pulled out his scroll with the intent of calling the police force in to arrest the now defeated woman. But his finger hovered over the dial key.

Cayn could not help from putting the scroll back into his pocket, he had some questions to ask first. He knelt next the subdued woman and growled out his words. "Who was he and why did you kill him?" The tinkerer asked first and foremost. "And why did you attack me immediately as well?" He asked again, his words growing louder with every pause. "You better have some pretty damn good excuses, or there may be a few holes in you when the police get here." He bluffed angrily, pressing the odd weapon into her arm. He kept his finger well off the trigger, there would be no bloodshed on his part tonight now that he no longer was close to shaking off this mortal coil.

... Then she's as good as dead.

Reaching up to grab her ears tightly, Cabot squirmed around in pain as the man began speaking to her, gradually raising his voice. Acknowledging his words, she began to formulate her speech as she tossed out a quick insult.
"S-stop t-t-talking so loud, you bloody p-prick...."
Her fowl language was accompanied by an unfittingly soft and gentle whisper, careful not to talk too loudly herself.
"His n-n-name was Paul. I don't know the specifics, I just know h-he was the leader of a medium scale anti-faunus group. He killed a lot of people like y-you and me... Wasn't exactly discreet about it either..."

The girl took short, shaky breaths, the ringing growing more vibrant and then fading out before returning to violate her sensitive and prominent ears once again.
"After a while, y-you get a bounty on you for doin' that kind of thing, luv... People get angry and they want you dead. Somebody's gotta take the bounty and deal with it...
As for you... I t-tend to get a bit... 'Insane'... I-I'm sorry, if that helps....
P-p-plus... What kind of assassin would I be if there was a witness...? You see my face, y-you'll tell someone... I wanna prevent that.... A-and..."

The hunter let out a soft groan, before transitioning it into a light sigh.
"Alright, listen luv. I'm poor. I'm poor and I can hardly sustain myself; the Grimm bounties aren't cutting it anymore, all those bloody students are t-taking the high value ones.... Instinct.... A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do, you know...
Don't tell me you've never done something wrong because you wanted to benefit yourself..."

The continuous speech added onto the already painful ringing brought tears to the girl's eyes; she writhed around prefusely, making a few, futile attempts to stand up, or even get onto her hands and knees.
"Listen, luv... If you're gonna shoot me, then just shoot me, alright? Stop this dillydallying and put me out of my damned misery you knob...."

Cayn leaned over the female Faunus, his face a scowl as he listened to her words silently. It was not that he was at a loss for things to say, he could have remarked at every pause and quipped negatively. But there was a feeling that his comments would have brought nothing necessary, and thus swallowed them all.

The weapon smith was confounded. He had heard of bounty hunters before, but the yarn that was spun before him seemed to convenient. After all in his eyes, the corpse behind him was still murdered. And he also had been attacked, his chest stinging from the cut slightly as his attention was brought to it. Cayn had to wonder if the bat lass had thought of this excuse ahead of time. No. He figured with a shake of his head, she was in to much pain for that now. Whatever was the cause of that, he could only guess it had something to do with the fact that the hat no longer covered her large ears.

Cayn listened, from the explanations to the guilt heavy sob story. And through it all he could not help but pass a yawn. It was really late in the evening after all. He felt that he had to make a decision at this time, and that would decide the fate of the woman who was struggling to move. Most of his mind said to have her arrested, let the police handle it from here. But there was a small nagging spot somewhere within those same spinning gears, a wrench in the somewhat normal plans.

Something that asked if maybe her own reasons were not well enough for a pardon. Cayn almost wished to not be the one to judge. However this was his mess now. With a short and sharp exhale, the dog eared Faunus tossed the slightly damaged red hat on the ground right in front of the woman. "Look. I ain't gonna stoop to your level. I'm not going to torture you." He said as he stood, the soft light from his scroll illuminating his face. His expression barely changed, as if his body was not happy with the path that he had picked. "But I'm also not done with you. Give me your scroll's information and leave." He demanded, his tone as chilly as the air. "I'm keeping the weapon, and reporting the body to the authorities as soon as you are gone. I'll call once I have thought on this more. Get going before I change my mind."

With that Cayn shoved the strange gun in an inside pocket of his fur lined jacket, walking across the alley to pick up and sheath his sword. Without looking to see if the woman was still there, he called the police from his scroll. "I've been attacked, and someone else has been killed. It was a large man, green coat. Used some kind of whip sword thing." He started, dealing with the person on the other end of the line.

Enter confusion, stage everywhere.

Her face twisted into a hateful looking scowl as she was denied her own death.
'Please no... Not the police.... Don't make me go to jail I don't wanna go to jail I'll go insane there. I can't live with those kinds of people!'
Her brain was flooded with fears but her glare held fast, soon enough being verbally slapped off of her face as he essentially asked for her number.

It was only just now that the faunus realized her hat was laying on the ground before her; a tiny hole had planted itself firmly in the front, and a small tearing of the fabric had therefore occurred. She slowly reached out to grab it, obviously considering it a top priority to cover as much of her sound sensitive ears as possible. As she put it on, she slowly struggled into a sitting position, suspending her rear in the air with her left arm so that she could reach into her pocket with her right and pull out her scroll.
Giving the man the requested information, she had briefly contemplated giving him one of her fake ones but decided against it.

This set of actions had taken her away from the fact that he was not calling the police on her, and it was not until he called the authorities and gave them false information that she rose and gave the man a confused stare. Taking a step back she heard a splash as she stepped in what she soon recognized as a small pool of her own blood; her right leg was still bleeding profusely and she felt prickles of pain stabbing at it constantly.

She didn't understand, and she knew from past experiences she couldn't stick around a crime scene to question things, so she swiftly turned around and dashed off into the night.

(Exit)