Zone C -- Megacity One

[Dust]

Teleported from B6 to SH C by Karl.

Illidan found himself disorientated by the sudden change of scenery in his mind's eye. It had been bold strokes of trees, brush spittle that were bushes, and grass that fluttered in the air like fur, now it was the short shag - almost plastic - carpet under his feet, and walls of concrete. He could sense chairs and decor and feel the cool air of the A/C on his sweat covered back. Feeling woozy, he touched his temple and fell into the comically small but comfortable chair and grumbled to himself while he tried to feel less seasick by the teleportation process.

Dust stood where he was, the blood of the fairy still dripping from his claws, and his mind elsewhere while he stared deeply at a conveniently placed business magazine with a stylish blonde who probably had no idea what she was modeling for but smiled nevertheless. His deadly claws slowly receded in silence and became normal flesh colored short nails while he remained distant. 

"Was that the first time you've killed?" Illidan offered conversation in the form of an annoyed growl, but did not look up at the man that stood so still in front of him that he appeared to be one of those trees for a moment. 

Dust's eyes glanced over at the demon hunter in the small chair, and then back at the magazine. "No." Wolf said, in a voice weighted down by truth and something they both would understand. 

Illidan would know this better than anyone who had their eyes on Dust, killing was easy. This man, this simple human who had fought beside him; who saved him, has killed before. He probably did not have the kill count as a 10,000 year old dark elf who's past was littered with bodies of his enemies, but the blood on Dust's hand did not just amount to one or two people in his lifetime. Now that he was a prime, it wouldn't just be one lifetime either. There was a moment of silence, but they both heard the dripping of cold blood tapping against the carpet.

Starring at the magazine, Dust was suddenly struck to the core with the reminder that he had a payment to make. If that blonde was here in the office he would have grabbed her and kissed her the moment it hit him. Illidan was the only candidate for his kissing payment, but if the idea of kissing Dawn again with the bruise on his cheek still stinging gave him the sense that it was a bad idea, kissing Illidan felt dangerous beyond what his internal calculator would allow him to risk.

"I just need to step out for a bit." SW-808 explained, and then moved away from the magazine and his travelling companion.
The shirtless man stepped outside the safe house and apparently up behind Dane and Clownpiece. He towered over them, as he tended to, his hair brushing across the bare bits of his shoulders where he still wore his borrowed backpack. His eyes bore into them, unintentionally he was sizing them up and debating on grabbing one for his payment. The blood of their fallen companion still slipping down his fingers.

The very same Cirno they were talking about moments ago.

The two seemed either too dense to notice they were being preyed upon, or too occupied with their own minds, because with their past behind them they walked away from him. Dust watched for a moment before looking around. He could spot a few other people in the area, including another elf. He recognized Jak from the bar, but didn't feel close enough to offer him a friendly wave. It would seem the knife-eared worrior was also busy. Even as the tablet began to chirp to tell him the reasons why everyone was leaving the area, he turned his back on the outside world and moved back inside. Maybe there was a syctech staff member he could make out with before bed.

Karl's Chippendale's, minus Gildarts, will stay in the safehouse. (At least until I get off work..)