A night like any other night. Nocturnals were prowling, Drunkards were staggering, Wild Childs were razing. Soukuro was surprised to find himself not in any of those oft frequented situation--good places to find information--but instead walking down the street with someone at his side. It wasn't a date, just a little meeting to have a drink. Brooklyn had promised him that much before the crazy events that happened at the mansion. He didn't often get a chance just to go out for a while and forget what obsessed him always every waking moment. Might be why he didn't have anyone to drink with. His obsession.

They'd taken a turn down a side road between two major streets, coming around to find an establishment to share a drink. Just another dirty alleyway. Pretty wide, good for shipping while leaving all the public space for store fronts and beautification. Not too much laying around to provide cover for stalkers, which was always a good thing. A few dumpsters. Lighting was a bit sparse, but ample enough to see where you were putting your foot.

A car sat two-thirds of the way down. Soukuro's dark eyes drifted over the muscle car's frame as they slipped by. One guy inside. Didn't look like he appreciated the attention. Caused the Japanese-American's brow to furrow. Not that he thought anything of it, really, until three more guys came rushing from around the corner out on the main street headed their way.

Stricken, a small bell loudly protested the men's activities. Crushed glass, forced doors, and lost valuables that would fetch a pretty price on the market. Not their's, obviously. The car was, however. There lay the problem.

"What the--?" the words fell from one man's lips as the three drew up short. Two unexpected visitors between them and the car. Their driver popped the door and stepped out of the vehicle. None of them were dressed like they'd be going to the ritz any time soon. From what Soukuro could see they were armed too. Two guns and one blunt object. Couldn't tell what the guy behind them had.

This wasn't how he wanted the evening to start. Just his luck it'd go bad.

They're a threat. Remove it.

Really bad. Soukuro clenched his mouth shut and went still before the three anxious to get away before the police arrived. "Brook..." Maybe they could just step out of the way and let the robbers pass, right? No harm in that.

Fingers were jammed into her jeans pockets as she moved along the sidewalks of New Orleans with Soukuro. The two had met at the party the previous Friday night and had endured a lot of craziness together, which ended with an agreement to have a few drinks to laugh off the insanity. And here they were, ready to get their drinks and have a fun, carefree evening. Fun and carefree? Not often, especially here lately. Everything seemed to be going wrong in New Orleans and everyone was speaking of the Apocalypse and though she was skeptical, Brook was ready to admit something was awry. The weather, the people, everything just seemed off. However, none of that mattered tonight. Tonight was the time to relax and forget the past however briefly.

As they took a turn, they ran into something that looked peculiar. [i]Were those guys robbing a...bank? She gawked at the men as they scrambled around, attempting to collect their money and things before the cops arrived. She sucked in a breath, annoyed, and turned to Soukuro as he said her name. She couldn't get those guys get away with it; she had to take action, but Soukuro would probably want to help unless he wanted to bail, and she couldn't allow that to happen. She was a werewolf, she'd recover from anything other than a silver bullet. The thought of Soukuro being something... supernatural had not even crossed her mind but now really wasn't the time to inquire. "SK, let me handle this," she whispered to her friend.

Many thoughts raced across her mind. Should she wolf out or pull out a gun? In any other situation, she'd be happy to shift into her lycan form and rip the three to shreds but Soukuro here had no idea of what she was and she wasn't even sure how to tell him. Knowing her luck, he was a mortal who had no idea that anything Supernatural even existed. She sighed softly, trying to determine the best action to take.

Soukuro blinked and looked over at Brooklyn, brows arched upward at the center. Handle it? They should get out of the way. They weren't equipped to fight armed robbers. Sure he knew Jujitsu and could handle a gun if he had one, having 'hunted' before, but this wasn't a hunt and they weren't armed. At least, he didn't think Brooklyn was armed.

"Wait--"

"Just kill them. We don't have time for witness."

The larger of the three in front of them, standing six three tall, glanced at the man in the middle. "They're just civilians."

Bag in the left hand, handgun hoisted in the right, the leader of the pack snorted at the objection. "You plan on them fingerin' us? Can't hunt if the cops are on us."

A loud crack preceded hot metal slicing by Soukuro's left upper arm. A cry of surprise and pain followed as the man spun about and dropped to his right knee, clutching the grazed arm. Black and red strands hung down over his face as he doubled over from the shock.

"Shit..." Lead-man snarled to himself and took aim again at the man's back. How they hell had he missed and hit the damn arm?

Another click of the driver readying his own gun came from behind Brooklyn. Obvious they were going to put down the wanderers and then make a fast get away with the loot; might as well join in the festivities.

"Heh. Bad move," Soukuro replied quietly from where he knelt.

The crumpled figure bound to his feet and launched himself at the driver with little more warning. Leather coat flung off to one side as he swept in, Soukuro slammed his clawed hands into the driver sending the man's back into the still open car door. The gun clattered out on the open ground from the impact. For a moment Soukuro's dark eyes met those of the willing participant in wholesale slaughter of two innocent civilians that happened to witness the illicit activities.

His lips parted slowly to reveal the fangs oft hidden beneath and believed to be nothing more than aesthetics. "This might hurt," he whispered gently into the man's right ear before sinking the fangs into the man's neck. Another body slam into the door kept the prey in line as it tried to struggle against the assault.

"Holy shit...!"

Two brought their guns to bear and dropped the loots in their hands. The third out front pulled a metal bat. The lead narrowed his eyes to slivers and fixed them on Brooklyn. "They're fuckin' freaks. Kill them."

"There's no time to wai..." her voice trailed as the gun was fired and a bullet was sent toward Soukuro, grazing his left arm. She watched in horror as he fell to his knees and as the blood ran from his arm. "Oh no," she muttered but then was taken aback by his next set of actions. She simply stared after him in amazement as he bolted toward the driver and sunk his fangs into him. Then the guns set on her from the other two men and she sighed out. "Okay, maybe you can help then." It was meant to be funny but it was just the time to make jokes or laugh at any.

She felt the familiar snapping of her bones and her body turned from that of a human woman to a female werewolf. Her lips turned upward into a snarl and loud growls escaped her throat. Soukuro seemed to be handling the driver okay so she went after the ones who had drawn guns on her. Hahaha. Funny. Even if they had fired, she would have healed automatically. Bastards. They would pay for this. And she'd need to remember to ask Soukuro what the fuck after this was all over. What the hell was he?

She rushed toward the two men, and pounced both of them. Her large teeth sunk into one man's head as her left paw pierced the abdomen of the other. So yeah, this was a wonderful opportunity for a meal but Soukuro may find it weird if she munched on the robbers after they were dead. She tasted the warm blood and held him down until she knew him to be dead; when his body stopped struggling against her hold. The other man was maimed but he was still breathing so she removed her jaw from old boy's head and darted toward the breathing one. She dug her teeth into his abdomen and chewed at the organs inside of him. Tasty. It was so delicious. How would she stop herself?

Soukuro was hungrily gnawing on the neck from where the crimson wellspring flowed. The taste of blood and the struggle of the victim excited him. Another surge of force slammed the body back against the door before they sank down toward the ground. With the driver dead the fun had gone, but the taste of his flesh and steam of blood still held his interest in the corpse. How long had it been since the last time he'd allowed himself a proper meal? Too long. Yes, he couldn't be bothered to remember if it was last night or last month, but it was always too long.

A lanky one was still standing with his bat. Blood running down his chin, Soukuro turned and fixed the Human with his eyes. Another one? Might have less fat on him. All the better.

Discarding the first, he sprung to his feet and surged forward. The 'hunters' hadn't been ready for a werewolf or some crazy unknown attacking them in the middle of a robbery. Too bad. Especially bat boy, here. Soukuro carried him off his feet by tackling him from the side. The two of them hit head and tumbled for a few feet before the claws sank into the man's flesh to pin him where he lay; the fangs sank into the jugular to cut off the cry of pain. No witnesses. Oh, yes, Soukuro could understand that thought--it was one of his own mottoes after all.

A pleased growl rumbled within before Soukuro plunged his right hand into the man's chest to tear out his heart. Nothing like tasting a little Human's heart as their eyes faded.

Finishing a bite, the dark haired man turned as if suddenly remembering he wasn't alone this time. No witnesses... but he'd come with Brooklyn. Soukuro blinked, heart in hand, and stared at the werewolf. She wasn't angel, or demon, or hunter. Maybe she would understand. He'd never thought about befriending a werewolf--they were an unpredictable lot.

The night had definitely taken an interesting turn and here was Brook, kneeling over the corpses of two humans, one's she had successfully taken down. One swift movement of her neck and she'd seen her new friend attacking another, taking him down easily and what was that? munching on a heart? So, Soukuro was obviously a supernatural being, but what? Not a vampire which had been her original thought, but what? She had no idea, she'd have to ask on that one. Well, if he was taking the time to much then so would she. She lowered her muzzle to the man's abdomen and picked up where she left off.

Unaware of how much time had passed, Brooklyn lifted her bloody muzzle and heard the familiar creaking of her bones. She was returning to her human form. With blood and ... guts dripping from her mouth, she lifted her right hand to wipe her face and mouth. Her eyes found Soukuro and watched him eating away at the corpse and for some odd reason this brought a smile to her lips. There would be no need for in depth conversations about the hows and whys of her being a werewolf. Of course she would like to know what her friend was, but he'd have no need to be afraid of spilling his guts. haha.

She moved closer to Soukuro, her face smeared and stained with blood. "Hey, um, we should get out of here before we have company." She was referring to the sound of the loud sirens headed in their direction. She extended her hand, offering it to him so that they could move to a different location.

Soukuro was down on his haunches, eyes drifting over the second man's body he'd slain without remorse or thought. Enemy. Danger. Kill him. Simple. Still, he reached out and a bloody index finger slid down the man's closed lips. He tipped his head to one side and suddenly thought how he shouldn't have been so eager to kill the man. Not because it was 'wrong,' but because there was so much potential... If there were a demon around he might have been interested in asking the fiend to take the body for a short while. Oh, but then there was the small matter of having torn the man's heart out.

Lifting his hand up for inspection, his dark eyes watched the cooling blood slide downward until it dripped. Drip. Drip. Drip. It was so sad... once they were dead he couldn't play with them any more. Why were they so fragile? The big, mean angels lording over creation silently. The giants whose hellish screams set souls ablaze. And the Humans... so fragile. A smile tugged at his lips. Part of him was still Human. Strange. Did he feel Human? Was he still fragile?

Brook approached, drawing Soukuro's attention. He looked up at the woman almost having forgotten she had been there with him. Almost. It was hard to forget... the first time being so sinful with company. Was this... a date? What an outrageous idea. It brought a small smile to his lips as he looked up into Brook's eyes. What she'd said, however, was true. "You're right," he replied, reaching down to wipe his hands on the corpse's clothing.

A split second of hesitation preceded him taking Brook's hand, but he did to rise to his feet even though it'd hardly been needed. It was the... thought? that counted.

He moved quickly to the side to retrieve the leather coat he'd cast off earlier. It was still clean. Could be useful in hiding the blood on his white shirt. "We should find somewhere to stay out of sight for a while. Clean up." The claws began resuming their Human appearance again, loosing the sharp tips that gleefully rend flesh from bone. Soukuro looked back the way they'd come, thinking of a few places he may have absently noted on their way down the road. Though if Brooklyn had any ideas he was happy to hear them. She probably went about this more often than he had.

Soukuro had taken her hand was now on his feet and fetching his jacket he'd thrown off before their battles had ensued upon running into the men. Their decision to take them out was best inside her own mind and she wondered if he felt the same. She figured she'd ask later as she had a feeling they would have a lot to talk about later on.

Her eyes peered down at Soukuro's fangs and as he transformed back into...a human? She still had no idea what he was but she didn't care. He seemed harmless to her. He'd been so eager and doing whatever he was doing to the men he had slaughtered but who was she to judge? She'd just chewed up internal organs of two men. The sirens were getting closer and closer and he had agreed they needed to move out of this place.

"I would say we could hide out in my apartment but do you think anyone saw us? If so, my apartment may not be the best place." She sucked in a breath as ideas floated through her mind but she came up short. Everything had happened so fast and now it seemed those sirens were approaching so quickly that if they didn't make a move, any move, they'd be in the headlights of God knows how many police cars. Someone had to have seen something, or perhaps only heard things, because someone had to have alerted the police and they seemed to be closing in on the right location.

"Whatever you think is best but we should hurry."

"Let's head back to your place," Soukuro replied as his eyes met her's, the two standing at the mouth of an alleyway covered in blood. "If anyone saw us they'd be too terrified to identify us." What they'd remember was probably man, woman, dark hair, man being Asian, leather jack, oh, and, yes, monsters, blood, terror. Anyone close enough to actually make anything more discerning out would either have an excellent memory, not suffer shock from witnessing the blood bath, and have probably been close enough for either of them to have seen them and invited them to the party... by force.

Why Brook's place? Wasn't like he could really trust her. Sure, they'd abruptly appeared at a freak mansion with some fairy tale head-screwing, they'd worked together to survive--which put most of the effort on Brooklyn herself--and now they'd shared in "fine" cuisine... but was that all a good foundation for trust or a relationship? There were plenty of questions bouncing all over this mess and they weren't ones Soukuro wanted to deal with.

More importantly, the Japanese-American couldn't afford for his house-mate to see him as he was. It would be hard explaining what had happened to himself--it always was when 'this' happened. Now, explaining how it had happened to two people would be stretching even the unreasonable leeway Chris gave him as it was. Plus, again, questions he didn't want to answer. At least with Brooklyn Soukuro could fantasize about her not telling anyone because she... sympathized, or found it cool, or just didn't care (Werewolves do it, so why not someone else?).

Oh, right, and Brooklyn was a werewolf. Nice to know. Explained a few things, like the show down at the mansion with the other one. You know, most people probably didn't shrug off someone being a werewolf. Most Hunters especially. Good thing he wasn't a Hunter! Yep, just a half-demon hybrid freak trying to lay low and, apparently, failing. None of it would have happened if they hadn't shot him.

As he followed Brooklyn back to her place, trusting she had better senses than he did and knew how to navigate the city back there faster, Soukuro couldn't help but reflect a bit on what thoughts had run through his mind as he tore the people apart and then played with their dead bodies. Some sort of morbid curiosity about his own condition. Didn't sound like his 'other' half was all that different than himself--probably because they were the same person. Pity. He'd kind of hoped it was a demon laying low playing mind games or something. Nope, just him. Go Team Demon. Why didn't this make him beam with pride? Oh, right, the whole 'Destroy the World' part. Easy to forget. The Apocalypse. Small detail.

Brooklyn nodded and turned to walk away into the direction of her apartment. On foot, it would take a while, but it didn't really matter to her. Normally, she needed the fresh air to clear her head but now it may prove to be awkward. The two of them had much to discuss and even still, she felt nervous about the whole thing. She shoved her fingers into her jeans and concentrated on moving one foot in front of the other.

She was silent for the trip back. It wasn't really safe to talk about anything regarding their little adventures or even what the hell they were. Everyone was already super sensitive because of the freaky weather and the crazy murders and various crimes that they may suspect something and create a little scene. So she kept her mouth shut.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, the spray painted sign displaying the name of her apartments came into view and she found herself tensing up. Talking about anything personal put her on edge and made her nerves go into overdrive.

She flashed him a small smile and moved toward the rickety stairs, making her way up them. "It's not the cleanest place in the world," she said with a nervous chuckle before removing her keys from her pockets and unlocking her place. She pushed open the door revealing her black and white decor. She hated color and always felt out of place with too much of it.

They must have appeared either injured or insane as they had walked those streets to her apartment. She knew her mouth was stained with blood and so were fingers, but she kept them inside her pockets. I'm going to clean up in my half bath. You can go in there," she said as she pointed to her main bathroom. With that, she sprinted toward her other bathroom, sighing as she closed the door behind her. This was definitely too much excitement for one night, and buying time before talking was enough to catch her breath. She cleaned her hands, arms, and face with cold water and a clean wash cloth before peering at herself in the mirror. She felt like a monster; she was a monster. She sighed again and decided to get this over with.

She made her way back into the living room and took a seat on her black, leather couch. She'd wait for him to get out and see if he was still up for grabbing drinks.

Soukuro didn't say a word. His black eyes turned to follow after the woman that all but ran into the half-bathroom after shortly directing him to the main one. He blinked once. Not the Hilton, right? Didn't much matter to him. Chris and him weren't exactly rich either, and their house wasn't exactly "large." Enough to live in, if you could call it living. One man mesmerized by Hell and the other chasing after because of guilt. Besides, he didn't know what he should say. 'At least dinner's taken care of?'

The man made his way into the bathroom and shut the door quietly. Steam melted off the water after a minute or two. Clear until the blood started running off. It wasn't sexy, or delicious, watching it spiral down the drain. Perhaps it didn't have the allure of fresh, hot blood. The thought of it as a reminder of what he'd down barely graced his thoughts as he stood there slowly scrubbing away at his hands and face.

Looking into the mirror didn't even bother him as he made sure to get all of it off. How many people did he have to kill before he became numb to it? Some number fewer than he'd devoured. Four years. Things like this didn't happen on some spiritual anniversary. If anything it was like a werewolf howling at the moon--a regular, "natural" cycle. Yeah, Soukuro wasn't bothered with two more faces looking at him in terror in their last moment. He should be. A Normal would be.

A few minutes went by before he turned the water off. Even his white, blood stained shirt got a quick rinse. A smear of blood still marred the purity, but faded as it was and under his jacket people might just think it was any other dyed shirt. Wasn't like Humans had the olfactory senses capable of detecting blood on such a dilute level. He had paused, however, before opening the door. Brook wasn't a dog, but she inherited some of their traits; she might be able to pick up the scent.

He pulled the door open and stepped back out into the living room to meet with his host. If it bothered her he hoped she'd say something, otherwise he'd assume she didn't care for one reason or another.

Soukuro paused just inside the living room as he turned his head aside to look at the woman settled into her couch. She knew. She didn't know what she knew, but Soukuro knew. No one knew. Well, Chris, but he played like he didn't. "Thanks," was all he said, the sides of his leather jacket hung open as he stood there, the dull, stained shirt visible down the middle.

She sat on her couch, her fingers fidgeting with the fabric of her jeans. She just wasn't the type to go on little escapades such as theirs. Hell, she only had one friend and the only reason she knew she was a werewolf was because she was psychic and now he knew, he knew what she was. It would have been easier if she'd known what he was but that was just it, she didn't have a clue. He wasn't a vampire because the last time she'd checked, vampires didn't gobble up human hearts. Maybe they'd lick the blood but they certainly wouldn't devour it.

His voice jarred her from her thoughts and she lifted her eyes and forced on a smile. "For?" she asked curiously before realizing it was probably for allowing him to clean up. "Oh... oh, no problem." She cleared her throat and her smile faded from her lips. "Soukuro, we should.. talk and you should know that talking is not really my thing but.." her voice trailed as her mind raced. She was speechless. She had no idea how to proceed.

"I just.. I don't know.. Okay, you know I'm a werewolf now." Her fingers lifted to her hair, nervously brushing it back. "What are you?" There. She'd just blurted it out. Her teeth grazed her lower lip and chewed a bit. This was awkward.

The events of the night started to play out across her mind but she pushed them away. She did not want to think about it right now, not when he was still here with her. Tonight, when she was alone, she'd go over it again and again until it made sense somehow.

She could smell the blood on the both of them even though they'd both washed it away. The scent was lingering and it smelled delicious. She licked her lips and sunk back into the couch as she gazed up at him curiously.

When the question dropped, Soukuro turned his face in the other direction. Of course Brooklyn wanted to know what he was. Freakish creature devouring people next to her, why wouldn't she? At least if he were another werewolf she'd understand. "You wouldn't believe me if I said I was a vampire," he replied quietly. He turned and stepped over to the side, still keeping his attention diverted from the woman sunk into her couch watching him in her own home.

Both hands rose and slipped into the pockets of his jacket as he mulled over the question. He'd killed others that'd seen him... different. Hadn't thought twice about it. Witnesses. They wouldn't be believed by the cops, but Hunters would hear their tale and start piecing it together. They'd force the issue. Soukuro would have to kill them. More Hunters would come. Then more. It'd never end. So he killed them. Why hadn't he killed Brooklyn? Not that he wanted to, now, but he wasn't himself like that... things didn't make the same sort of sense as a demon.

"I... don't think it's a good idea to say what I am," Soukuro finally admitted. Granted, he knew so little about his own condition that a name was perhaps all he could give her, but a name... a very descriptive name: Demon. How would she react? Would she believe him? Maybe if he told her that it'd cross some invisible line he wasn't even aware existed. And if she told anyone...

He turned his head aside to look back at Brooklyn. "It's dangerous." That being knowing put Brooklyn's life in danger. Okay, he didn't know that, but he figured a decent warning should be applied from the start. There were no clues about which demon did this to him or why; Soukuro couldn't begin to guess what would happen if it learned someone, even a supernatural, knew Soukuro existed. Not to mention Lucifer.

A vampire? There was no way he was a vampire but really, who was she to say she didn't believe he was. "Well, no, unless you're some sort of hybrid vampire I guess." Her shoulders pulled into a shrug but if her thoughts were written across her face, they'd say she was reluctant to believe. Vampires did not act this way; they did not consume human hearts.

She lowered her eyes to the floor and focused on the tan carpet. So many things were racing across her head, only to lift them at his next statement. "Too dangerous?" A nervous chuckle left her lips as confusion twisted her features. "I'm a werewolf, I think I will be okay with knowing. She was shocked, and maybe hurt that he hadn't told her. They seemed so much alike personality wise and they'd even killed people together for God's sake, why wouldn't he just tell her?

She didn't know what to say. She just kept quiet as her thoughts continued to race. She was getting a little angry but she did not want to show. They had shared this big thing together and now he was withholding information she felt she should know; she had witnessed it!

"Look, I can't make you tell me anything but I think it would be fair to me if you did. You know about me." Her voice cracked a little and she lowered her eyes to her hands and placed them in her lap. This was a crazy night and she wanted it to end. The mood for going out for drinks was long gone and if he didn't start talking soon she'd simply ask him to leave.

Soukuro turned his head away as she mulled over what he'd said. She sounded so desperate. Like it was more than just curiosity. Tit for tat, as it were. She'd unwillingly shown him her nature, as he'd shown her his; only Soukuro had the benefit of assembled knowledge of her kind whereas she had no idea what he was. No one knew what he was. Well, maybe Lucifer and the Archangels, but one wasn't talking and the others he was too terrified to ask--not that they'd waste time answering his prayer.

"Brooklyn, it's," he paused, brow furrowed as he wrestled with some imaginary fine line in his head, "different." The young man sighed to himself, wagering Brooklyn wasn't going to just let it go because of his frustration over the matter.

After he'd turned to face her again, he stepped further into the room. "Being a werewolf you can understand. If anyone knew about me I'd be hunted," maybe he could explain it in terms of the familiar? "It wasn't something I had a choice in," but then most werewolves probably hadn't a choice. "And I have to find a way to reverse it," which most werewolves probably wanted as well. "I can't always stop it," which Brook must have understood, "and I don't know if I can control it. All it wants is to kill," well, what he knew, maybe that wasn't all it wanted, but it was the extent it had gone so far in life.

He stopped for a moment and rubbed his right temple with his hand. "I guess that sounds like what you must feel," he admitted weakly, not sure how to express how his condition was different after all. Werewolves killed people. God must not like that. What percentage of werewolves got to go to heaven? "I just," his hand dropped back to his side limp, "my curse won't go away when I die. It will never end." What was that like? Eternity? Forever. Him and the Devil chillin'. Kickin' back, watching the cities burn. They could share a laugh over how a Human writhed before the Grand Torturer of Hell. Maybe plan how they'd carve the planet up and reshape it in Lucifer's image now that God had given up.

God was gone, right? No sudden, miraculous returns? They weren't actually fighting God were they? Was Lucifer that powerful? If he was then he should have won the first time, but now he had demons... It'd be something like the Russian Offensive in World War II--Zergling rush Heaven's gates.

Unlike Brook, getting wasted was a growing desire within Soukuro as he continued grappling with an issue he didn't particularly enjoy even discussing with himself. "I have never told anyone about this. I don't want them hurt. Do werewolves have packs? I have a choice between two and if anyone crossed either... they wouldn't live long. That's not something I want to burden you with."

She sat there, her hands folded in her lap, her eyes staring down at the pale color and wondering why all this had happened. She was frustrated because her 'secret' identity had been shown and though his had, his wasn't obvious. What the hell is he? That line would not stop running across her head. But if he didn't want to tell her she couldn't force him. She sighed softy as she continued to stare at her own hands. What was it about then? The blood that stained them; not on the outside but the inside. Stains that could never be washed away. Stains from murdering and devouring not only criminals and jerks but innocents as well.

Hearing him say it was different wasn't helping things. Of course it was different, weren't they all diffrent? Didn't the hunters hunt them all? It wasn't easy to go around life not knowing who was on your trail ready to shoot silver bullets and take away your life for good. The hardest part of going on a hunt for food was the thought of never coming back. Who would want to die like that?

Everything he said, every word he was saying to her was exactly as she felt. How could he say these things and expect her to understand why he couldn't tell her the truth of what he was. She wouldn't bring herself to say anything to she sat there in silence feeling herself seethe. If only she would have remained in her human form, if only that had been possible for her. But would he have killed her? That thought came into her head and made her stomach turn. If she hadn't been a monster as well, would he have felt obligated? Maybe not, she wouldn't have killed him for that reason. But it bothered her and she couldn't even tell him that. It would make things that much more awkward than they already were.

Her head shook slowly and she found herself pulling to her feet and moving toward the small kitchen. "Some have packs but I do not belong to any." she muttered in passing. She removed two shot glasses from her cupboard along with a bottle of Tequila and emptied the liquor into the glasses. She just needed something to calm her nerves and the two had been going for a drink, so perhaps they could take a couple of shots before heading to the bar. She definitely needed to relax before going anywhere.

She moved back into the main room and handed off one of the glass to Soukuro, then she downed her own, the bottle of Tequila dangling from her free hand. "You don't need to protect me from anything. I am perfectly capable of doing that on my own." She removed the top from the liquor and poured another shot for herself then passed the bottle to him. "But if you want whatever the hell you are to remain a secret while MY identity has been made crystal clear to you then fine. Whatever." She downed the second shot and slammed it onto the coffee table.

"Do you still want to go for drinks?"

Soukuro didn't follow Brooklyn as she withdrew to the kitchen for a moment. Both of them had their reasons for not wanting to confront one another at the moment, trying to dance around an issue the relative new comer in her home refused to just admit. Upon her return he found himself holding a glass, which he looked down at blankly. His eyes slipped up and gazed at the bottle she held in her hand. Was that enough?

Her words forced his eyes to rise and meet her's. Yeah, Brooklyn was a werewolf. She could fight. She might even feel like she could take on the world to protect her territory--though the extent of the canine type hadn't been well documented. In fact, most Hunters didn't care about understanding the details of werewolf life... all they wanted were guaranteed ways to kill them.

The drink rose to his lips. Swallowing the contents in a single gulp, he squeezed his eyes shut and tipped his head back. Yeah, Brook sounded just peachy him staying quiet. Of course it'd be a pretty girl he'd be tempted with revealing the truth. Hell, she already knew enough to damn him if she decided to talk and keeping her out of the loop looked like the way to piss her off. Tossing out a name--a meaningless name, really--would only give Hunters bad information. Could save his life. Once. Maybe twice. They caught on fast; Soukuro should know having traveled in their circles often enough.

He set the glass aside and lifted the bottle up. Lips parted, he poured more of the alcohol down his throat--but was conscientious enough not to press his lips to the bottle.

After a few seconds, feeling his body beginning to back up and threaten to choke, he let the bottle fall to his side. It hung there for only a second before he clapped it down on a nearby solid surface that wouldn't break under the weight. "I want... what I am to remain a secret, Brook," the man snapped, his chin fallen toward his chest and eyes screwed shut. "Every day I wake up I want to pretend it isn't true. Every day I run from one hopeless or clueless mystic, con-artist, historian, and supernatural I can find wondering if they've ever heard of something like me or a way to get it out of me before it's too late. Every time it kills someone I wonder if it's already too late."

Drawing in a deep breath, Soukuro's head rose and his eyes opened to look on his drinking partner now so eager to get drunk to forget he refused to answer her question. "I want to go out for a drink, Brook. You might change your mind when I tell you what you want to know."

A small laugh suddenly broke the shadow of a scowl on his lips. "I don't even know what I am. I have a... sub-species name from a," he snorted in twisted mirth, "reliable source."

He paused for a moment then, looking out at Brooklyn wondering if she'd stop him. He wanted to stop him, but he wanted to tell her. Maybe... maybe she wouldn't die. Maybe she wouldn't run. Maybe she wouldn't care. It'd be nice to have someone that didn't care. Maybe he could have a friend again. "I'm Half-Demon." And the shoe dropped.

Two shots hadn't really affected her much but she did feel a bit calmer though still a bit irked by him not telling her what he was. Part of her felt as if she were acting childish over this situation and that she should simply drop it and move on. He did not have to answer to her, they were barely friends. They hadn't known each other but two weeks now, why was she expecting anything from him? And suddenly she felt bad for the way she had been acting but she remained silent.

Her emotions were overwhelming her and she wanted to cry. Everything that happened was really starting to affect her and negatively. It was different when she killed on her own, usually her victims were planned out and things that spontaneous rarely happened and when they did, she was always alone. It was the reason she would never join a pack besides not being able to get along with her kind. She hated for anyone to see her kill, even if they killed as well. She felt dehumanized, and that fit because she wasn't human was she? No, the last time she checked, werewolves were not humans.

She watched him down the alcohol and suddenly things seemed better. Was he angry with her? Why was he affecting her so much? No one ever did. She felt oddly attached to him after the night's events and perhaps that is the reason she was all but demanding him to tell her. No, she could not be attached to him, that wasn't her nature. No matter what she went through with anyone, she would never be attached to anyone... ever.

She swallowed hard as he began to speak and the guilt was really setting in. Was he going to actually tell her? Did she want that? Yes, she wanted to know but she wanted it to be on his terms and not simply because she wanted him to. She thought it was silly of him to assume it was dangerous for her but maybe he had his reasons. She thought about opening her mouth to speak; to tell him no but she couldn't make her lips move. She was that curious .

With everything he had told her she felt afraid. Not afraid of him, but for him. What the hell? It seemed as if it really were something more intense than the usual supernatural being, something that put him in even more danger than the rest of them and it sounded as if it were something that overtake him.

"I won't change my mind about anything, I promise." And it was true. No matter what he was he was still her friend and she already cared deeply for him. She would do everything in her power to keep his safe because that's how much her friends meant to her. Growing up, she had had no one but her abusive Mother and the other had kids had thought her to different to befriend and now that she had Hope and Soukuro, she would be damned if she'd allow anything to hurt either of them.

She peered up at him, her eyes pleading, somehow telling him he didn't have to but her lips could still make no sound. She had to know. What was his secret? what could he not control? and he didn't know what he was? It didn't make sense.

And then he'd said it and it had taken her breath away. A demon? No, he'd said a half demon. But what did that mean? Demons were running around obsessing over those Winchester boys and their Daddy, they didn't hang out with werewolves and they sure as hell weren't as nice as he was.. to anyone, even to each other. Not that she knew that much about them.

"What do you mean a half demon? I don't understand." She chewed at her lower lip as she thought it through or at least tried to. "And I don't care what it means, by the way. I want to help you figure it out."

The shock was obvious, but then hardly unexpected. Soukuro wasn't offended by shock. Still, it left the question open what Brook would do now she knew. Of course, she didn't understand what he'd said or its ramifications. Half-Demon? How can you be half demon? Either you were or weren't going to Hell. "I don't know, Brook. It's just what I was told," Soukuro admitted with a shrug of his shoulders. He still wasn't feeling drunk yet. Barely buzzed. Couldn't it hurry up and hit so he didn't need to dwell on this?

He shuffled to one side and then made his way around toward the couch to find a seat, if Brook didn't object. "I don't know what I am. I just know a demon did this to me and now I have Lucifer--the Lucifer--offering to make me a deal." He shook his head, the short strands of black and red swishing about the crown of his head. "There's more to it. I know there is." A soft sigh escaped him as he bowed his head, confronting the issue that Brooklyn was so mesmerized by.

"It's alright," he tried putting up a smile for her benefit as he looked over at her. "I would be curious if I were you too. Actually," a slow shake of is head, "that's how I wound up like this. I thought I knew enough and wanted to know more. The funny thing is I still do... I have to know more about what I am." A never ending spiral. Curiosity didn't kill the cat, it just damned it to Hell for the day when it did die. That was the weird thing, though; if he was already damned to Hell, and the Angels would never accept him, then why was Lucifer making a deal? He had to be afraid an Angel would too. It didn't make any sense. Angels didn't make any sense.

Fear was beginning to overwhelm her, fear of what would happen to him and what all of this meant. Admittedly, she was clueless, and maybe even oblivious to what was going on around her. She'd heard others tossing around the word 'apocalypse' but she'd laughed it off just as she'd laughed off the whole 2012 ordeal. She didn't believe in these things but now she was getting the feeling she should invest more time in thinking about it all, maybe even researching a bit. If Soukuro was really half demon that means other things were real, like God and Angels.. and the Devil.

So he didn't know much about what he was, she could understand that. She remembered how frightening it had felt to learn she had been changed into a werewolf and his issue was a million times worse than what she had went through. At least information had been available. She sucked in a shaky breath and watched him move toward the couch and take a seat.

Wait, did he just say Lucifer? As in the devil? Her eyes widened and her head shook slowly. "Lucifer? This is pretty deep shit," she said with a half grin, "but we'll figure this out together. I want to help you. Please let me help you." She was interested in this part of their universe she had neglected all of her life. She'd spent her years as a scientist disregarding Religion altogether. It only brought hate and isolation, not love as it so proclaimed. And it didn't make sense to her either, not scientifically. But hearing all this she realized that there must be something out there. After all, she'd never believed in werewolves either and she'd been very wrong about that.

The smile on his lips put her mind at ease and made her feel some sort of inner peace. What was it with this guy? He was the one with the problem, not her and yet he seemed so kind and considerate of what she must be feeling.

"I would be the same way... wanting to know more. It's intriguing."

Soukuro looked over at Brooklyn with subdued surprise at the offer to help him. After everything he'd just said she wanted him to stay and to help? Neither of them knew how she'd help, but then her efforts weren't going to get in his way--after all, he didn't know how to help himself with or without help. Besides it was nice to hear someone wanted to help. He shouldn't be so eager to trust her. He shouldn't hope she'd actually follow through with what had fallen off her lips in the heat of the moment. Fear of him being next to her might instill "obedience" to survive. But... it was hope. Even if there wasn't anything he could do to "save" himself.

"Thank you, Brooklyn." He didn't know anything else he could say to her offer. Well, besides rejecting it, but then if that was going to be the case he wouldn't have told her anything at all.

"I don't want to frighten you," Soukuro sought her eyes with his own, "but I meant what I said earlier. I'm caught between Angels, Demons, and Hunters. For our safety, don't tell anyone. Even if I have The Fallen Archangel's interest, I wouldn't trust a demon to help us." It might be suicide for a demon to hurt or kill Soukuro, seeing how Satan wanted that deal, but you couldn't put it passed a demon to go psychotic. For that matter, maybe not all of them even knew. How were demons updated on these things? Were they some sort of unholy, unified consciousness?

Well, such a wonderful topic of discussion. Yeah, thinking about how he was going to Hell was nice. "I think a drink would be nice, right now, Brook." A faint smile, the man gently prodding them to be on their way once more. This time they'd drink alcohol. They'd had enough blood for the night--hopefully longer. "If you'd like to talk about this," it pained him to do so, but he couldn't even talk about this with Chris so it might actually be therapeutic, "we can." In a bar? Why not. Talk about it like it was someone else; Hunters might be interested if they happened to overhear, but they'd go running out there looking for a different person.

Everything seemed to be happening so fast but at the same time things appeared to be settling down. She felt a sense of relief at knowing what he was, well sort of, part of her still worried immensely for his safety. But a half demon, that couldn't be as a bad as a whole demon, right? But he was speaking about Lucifer and he was caught between the angels... and Lucifer. So where was God in this situation and that did, in fact, mean God was real? That thought made her anger levels rise greatly, but she pushed them back down and focused on her friend.

She waved off his 'thank you' and shook her head. He didn't need to thank her, she had done nothing to help him, and may not even be able to help but that is what friends did.. they offer to help even though they can't. She'd help in any way she could - research, interrogating pesty hunters, and just listening when he needed a sounding board or someone to vent to.

"I'm just worried about you is all, not frightened." Her shoulders pulled into a shrug and she let out another sigh. It was so confusing. "And I won't tell anyone... I promise."

So he still wanted to go out for drinks - that was a huge relief. Part of her was worried he'd become angry or guilty because he'd confessed this secret. A smile finally creased her lips and she pulled herself from the couch and offered him her hand. "Then let's go have drinks."

He took the offered hand to rise to his feet. Despite how calm he might appear, having revealed the truth to Brooklyn had him on edge. She said she wouldn't tell anyone, but a suspicious part of him knew people said all sorts of things and didn't follow through. Common sense, right? A bit more than that, he felt; it could be some sort of innate demonic lore left as part of whatever was inside of him--or a part of him. Demons couldn't trust other demons; they were always fighting among one another. Some of them worked together. They were pretty Human in that respect, actually. Poses. Cliches. It wasn't total anarchy in Hell.

"Sounds great," Soukuro breathed, following it with a nod. "This time without running into Hunter-Thieves." A wry smile. Be nice just to find a place, sit down, chug alcohol, and then stumble off.

As he moved toward the door, a mental light went off and he contemplated holding Brook's hand helping him to his feet in her apartment. She was kind for a werewolf. Maybe she was young? Might change, over time, killing people. Like him. It grew easier. You could fall off the tight rope like that and stop caring. That's what Lucifer wanted in him. No good dwelling on that, however; better to reflect on how gentle Brooklyn was. Happier thoughts.

"Same place as before?" Soukuro opened the door to her apartment before casting a look back at his new friend. They'd go around the crime scene, just in case.

A sigh of relief left her lips as she made her way toward the door. Alcohol sounded perfect now and she did not mind sharing the night with him after all. Before he'd confessed the secret of his identity, the thought of kicking him out had played out across her mind, but she was acting childish then and now he'd told her everything, all of that seemed so far away. But the guilt wasn't too far behind her.

"Yeah, hopefully this run will be drama free," she said with a bit of laughter. The events of the night was enough blood and guts to last for more than a few days. She had definitely had her feel and wondered if the other part of him felt the same. She thought about asking but shook it out of her head. No use in asking questions until they made it to the bar.

---

The walk had been short and now the neon lights of the one of the many local bars was flashing before their eyes. She grinned and stepped up the door and pushed through it. Finally, they were here... finally. She made her way straight to the bar counter and took a seat on of the stools. The place was a little crowded but not as bad as some of the other bars she'd been in. It wasn't as nice as the others but it would suffice; all they needed was alcohol. She flashed her eyes toward her friend with a wide grin then to the bartender. "I'll have straight Whiskey. Bring a shot glass and an entire bottle." She chuckled as her eyes flickered back to Soukuro. "You're welcome to share this Whiskey with me or you can order what you want."

Soukuro surveyed the place as they made their way over toward the bar. Just a habit. Supernatural were everywhere. He preferred to find them before they found him if he could. Guess that hadn't worked out so well with Brook; though he did kind of suspect something had been up. Didn't seem like any 'Normals' were invited to that mansion. Everyone had a secret. Neither of them had figured the other out until just this evening, however. Guess it was as good as it would have gotten--something that forced it out in the open with no lingering questions if they meant what they'd said.

As he took a seat at the bar beside his companion, his dark eyes swung out over the bar and settled on the bartender that stepped up to fill their order. "A shot glass," he echoed, flicking his eyes over toward Brook with a smile on his lips at her invitation. "I don't usually drink Whiskey, but I'd like to share a bottle with you." If they were really in this together than it seemed appropriate to get a little closer, or familiar, and not try to stake out their individuality for show.

He shifted on his seat and looked back at the crowd. It was weird, but sometimes Soukuro felt like he was being watched by someone or something out in the crowd. Not just at this bar, but other places. Just something he'd started noticing recently. An itch boring in between his shoulder blades, and the thought that he could almost see what it was out there...

Not spending more than a few seconds trying to pierce whatever veil hung before his eyes, he turned back around in time for the drink to arrive. "Favorite drink?" Most people ordered a beer or something cheap. Maybe it was just everything they'd gone through drawing out the big guns at the first glass.

A smile had creased her lips as Soukuro agreed to share the Whiskey though it wasn't something he would normally order. That showed character, or maybe it was just the desperation to get wasted to cope with the world and with life. She knew it was true for her and suspected it was the same for new friend. Her new friend, a demon-human hybrid. She was still unclear how that even worked but she hopefully be finding out soon enough. With enough alcohol involved, the both of them should easily spill secrets and try and decipher things.

"One of them." she said with a nod, "I prefer a simple beer usually but tonight is a night for something a bit .. stronger." She rarely drank liquor and hated using it as a coping mechanism but this night was an exception, she needed some sort of chemical help to deal with it all.

Normally she would reciprocated the question but none of that really mattered to him at the moment. She would have plenty of time to discover his favorite drink, but now she was more curious about the whole Satan ordeal. He had said Lucifer and some angels had wanted him, did that mean he'd met any? Her teeth grazed her upper lip as she thought of how to go about this.

"So, Soukuro, have you met... Satan?" Well that sounded weird exiting her lips. She had never believed in Satan or God so it sounded .. silly. But he wasn't lying, she knew it, and she'd also heard talk of the apocalypse in the streets and at public places in the city. Something was definitely off but hearing it from a friend made it seem more real than it had.


The bartender returned with the bottle of Whiskey already opened and two shot glasses already filled. He left them with the entire bottle and Brooklyn flashed a smile toward Soukuro before lifting one of the glasses and raising it toward her. "A toast shall we? To new friends, shared secrets, and... getting smashed." She let out a chuckle as she waited for him to clash his glass against so hers so they could drink their first shot together.

Soukuro went quiet and his eyes drifted away from Brooklyn until the bottle showed up. She raised her glass in a toast once it had. The man turned back, picked his up, tapped her's and forced a smile on his lips. "Sounds good," was the extent of what he could croak out of his throat that'd clamped shut at the woman's question. So, you met Satan? Oh, right, nervous mental laughter here, he'd mentioned Lucifer's name earlier. Funny. Hilarious.

There wasn't much paused between toast and downing the entire shot glass in one go. It seared his throat open at least. Kind of hard for the body not to do something with the liquid fire threatening to drown him otherwise.

A hard gasp and choke followed the pain tearing down his esophagus. He turned away from Brooklyn and coughed up a lung as he swallowed a few breaths. Yeah, he wasn't a heavy Whiskey drinker. Didn't really expect this sort of reaction; but then he hadn't thought his cunning plan all the way through either.

After a few seconds of suffering that mistake, Soukuro propped himself back up on the bar and slid his shot glass across the top toward the bottle. "Slower... this time," he said with a hoarse voice, indicating he'd take it easy the second round.

He let Brooklyn decide whether to pour another shot as he drew in a deep breath. Just a little time to think... "Yes. I met him," Soukuro finally fessed up, still wearing out the effects of the first drink. It ticked--that is, burned--where the throat divided between the highway to the belly and the road to lung-city. "He was," the scene played back in his mind like a movie, "kind." Both eyebrows came together and dipped over his nose at the word choice. It was true, though. The fiend had nearly lost it at times, but he remain civil and even understanding--faked or not.

A quick glance over at Brook sought to check on the reaction to his assessment of the Most Dangerous Creature In The World. "What would you like to know?"

Soukuro's glass clinked against hers and the tipped the shots over and poured the liquid down their throats. Brooklyn handled her whiskey quite well, seeing as how she'd built up her tolerance for her it over the years but Soukuro - not so much. He was leaning over, coughing madly. She flashed a grin in his direction as she patted his back. "You okay there, Souk? Whiskey's not your thing I'm guessing." She chuckled at him, happy that finally things weren't so violent, well, except for his coughing.

She was still grinning as he slid the shot back over to her and telling her he'd take it slower. She shook her head and refilled the glass, then passed it back over. "Build it up, it will be worth it in the end. ha." She sort of felt sorry for him as she remembered how painful Whiskey can be in the beginning. But what a wonderful drink it was.

The grin faded at her eyes lowered to the empty shot glass in her hand before she refilled it with the whiskey. "Oh boy," she muttered as she swallowed down the entire glass at once. "Kind?" Wouldn't have thought that would be an adjective for the prince of darkness." She glanced between her shot glass and the whiskey, contemplating another shot.

"What does he want from you?" Her eyes were now burning into him as curiosity of that event took over her. She couldn't help but wondering what the hell had taken place.

Soukuro picked up the shot glass and held it in front of him for a moment between Brook's note Satan wasn't the first you'd think of as "kind" and her need to know what he'd wanted. Before answering, he pulled the glass in and was about to down it before he paused, head tipped back a bit. Yeah, he wanted it hard and fast seeing how the conversation was grinding away at things that tore at his soul every waking second, but the gagging and choking weren't much better alternatives. So, instead, he lowered his chin and took a sip of the scalding liquid.

The shot glass didn't touch the bar top again. He held it before him, feeling the woman's eyes demanding a response. What the hell, right? He'd already told her the really damning part. "My soul." He turned to face her with a limp smile. "No questions asked. No stipulations. He just wants to know when I die... I'll be right there, at his side, building the New World."

A quick shot, half the glass, down his throat caused him to grimace, but he managed to hold it together as his eyes watered. Whiskey, huh? "Brook," Soukuro looked behind the bar for a long moment, drawing in one breath after another slowly, not sure if he was near wasted enough for this yet, "I need your opinion... You know what I am. I know Angels won't let me through the gates. We all seem damned to one or the other." Another pause, the setup for his question built on those few certainties--at least for him. "Does the question matter?" If the Half-Demon said no until the day his mortal body died, he'd go to Hell. If he said yes, he'd go to Hell. He'd go to Hell despite what choice he made so was it really a choice? Lu hadn't said anything about being a naughty demon while he was still mortal, so either way nothing changed, right? Well, Lu'd been kind of evasive on that point actually.

"My soul."

Those words resounded inside her head over and over again. His soul? What did that even mean? All her childhood and young adult years were spent believing Heaven and Hell were myths, Jesus and God just a fairytale written by some random man of that time, unsuspecting that his writings would be more than just a fairytale one day, but would be taken as the literal words of God. Lately she'd begun questioning it, after tonight she was believing it. Or maybe there was no good... but only evil.. that made more sense. How could a loving God exist when all was wrong in the world? But Lucifer and demons, that made perfect sense. And the Angels didn't seem all holy either. It was so much to take in.

"Okay." He needed her opinion on something and she would gladly get it. She had find a way to get him out of this mess and she wondered how the hell he'd gotten himself into it. She wanted to ask but now didn't seem like the time.

She sucked in a breath but then she hadn't really understood the question. "The question? what question?" Her eyes had lifted and she wondered if she'd somehow missed something he'd said. With everything that had happened tonight, there was a good chance that had happened. She'd been hanging on to his every word but her mind had been slipping elsewhere, especially over the whole good and evil and God thing.

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand what you're asking."

Soukuro smiled though his eyes were downcast toward the bar as Brooklyn inquired what she'd missed. Wasn't her fault, he'd never asked a question. It was the unspoken question that weighed on him every since he met The Lucifer. Before it hadn't been a question. Now? It just seemed to have this note of finality. Inevitability. He wasn't sure fighting was going to do one bit of good. From an intellectual and principle point of view he should fight until the day he died and his soul was corrupted into a creature of pure evil, but when in Rome... Heaven, Hell, neither seemed to be ruled by much logic. Everyone was all about destiny and fate. God's Great Plan in the works.

"Should I say yes?" The question perhaps barely audible, though Brook wasn't your average Human with average senses. "Is it even a choice, any more? I don't even know what I am." Somehow he was suppose to make this Great Decision about where his soul would end up, but he couldn't even begin to weigh the Pros and Cons since he didn't know the half of it. Why had Lucifer been thrown out? Why was he fated to become Evil? What was a Half-Demon? Was there a way for Soukuro to still get to Heaven? How? Why weren't the Angels visibly doing anything to stop all this? The effects of Demons were apparent anywhere you looked.

The man's dark eyes rose to look at Brooklyn as he slid the shot glass toward the bottle. "Sorry. We can talk about something else. I've never told anyone any of this. It's all pouring out. What about you, Brook?" Soukuro put up his best smile given the circumstances. "How do you feel about how things turned out?" Specially, was she happy being a werewolf? In a sense, they were quite similar. Conditions not entirely of their choosing.

If only she'd had a stress ball then things would be okay. If only. She was sitting here at the bar contemplating what to say to her new friend. He had a lot going on and she could not be of much help, but she was trying her hardest to come up with something, with anything in order to help or even offer some comfort at least. No, she wasn't here to offer comfort, she had to be honest with him, there was no sugarcoating any of it.

"Wait what?" Her eyes suddenly lifted from the bar counter and met his, then narrowing slightly. "No." Her answer was simple. Lucifer was more than some spoiled child, he was evil and nothing good could come of this. "Look, I'm not exactly what you'd call a Christian, in fact I don't know what I believe but based on everything around us...," she stopped and tore her eyes to the window. Everything was crazy. The weather, the people, everything. "It doesn't seem right, Soukuro, and he has to be the reason."

Now her eyes were back to the table and she was once again wishing she had one of those stress balls. Again, he said something that jarred her from her thoughts. "No, this is fine. We need to figure out something," she said with a slight shrug of her shoulders. Who was she kidding? There was no way she could help him.

"I don't want to talk about me, SK, we need to figure out how to keep you away from Satan."

Soukuro's dark eyes scanned the immediate area, paying attention to how people were looking at the two of them or, likewise, weren't looking at them. Someone that might be trying too hard to be inconspicuous. Even with everyone too busy with their own lives or conversations, he didn't need the wrong person overhearing a word of what they were saying. He'd explain as much to Brook too.

Shifting a bit closer to the woman, he looked into her eyes as she resolutely stated they'd find a way. Did she believe it? Soukuro was starting to lose hope. How many more years would he go through daily life skirting the edge of being bankrupt of money and soul? Was he ever going to stumble over a solution? "Brook, I've tried... it isn't easy when you can't trust demons," for obvious reasons, "or Humans, because any one of them could be a Hunter, or Angels," the latter two perhaps less obvious, but just as certain in his mind. Maybe he should trust one of them, but he was terrified. Was it because Angels were so powerful, or just the darkness inside of him refusing to allow him the chance to try?

"Brook," the man toyed with his glass for a moment, "I know what happened earlier wasn't what you wanted, but I'm glad I met you." Someone that could sympathize with him. Sympathy that would, hopefully, keep her from telling anyone as they went down the rabbit hole together. Of course, he couldn't believe she didn't want to talk about herself. Maybe she wasn't ready to deal with it, but she didn't seem all that excited about tearing people apart with her own teeth. They could help one another through whatever was haunting them, even if it was wildly different.

"As for Lu," Lu? Really? "I just have to keep telling him 'No.'" Soukuro forced a smile on his lips as he raised his glass up. "Just one word. Should be easy." Unless he decided yes was so much more appealing and at the rate he felt himself going each time he went psychotic... he wondered how many months or years he had left in the 'Just say No' department.