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Perhaps, herr Javos, it ist not his sense that you need worry about, but your own.

Sieg once again seated himself quietly beside his companion, and gently scratched behind the feline's ears. It was meant to be a soothing gesture, to calm the sudden burst of raw emotion the Ceilican had displayed.

I ask you these things, mein Freund, because I see vhat you live through, und am burdened much the same. I have cast the augeries, und they spoke that vhich I already believed. I am leaving this place, herr Javos. I cannot dishonor mein kin by wallowing like this....und neither can you.

It is not that I vish not for your companionship, mein Freund...but you vill find no peace in my quest. I vill do all I can to help you, herr Javos, but this is not an easy sojourn I make.

Sieg knew the attention helped. It helped him, too...the distraction was a blessing, for all he wasn't going to tell Javos that. Still, he sounded concerned with the thought of Javos coming with him.

If I fail....yes, that is a possible fate.

As Sieg spoke, he did with a perfect gravity to show he was serious in the extreme. His eyes drifted skywards, until his hand felt the odd caress of the feline tongue. His head turned back to Javos, a grin already forming as he pulled his hand away almost on reflex.

I von't turn you away if you wish to come mit, but it is not myself for which I am worried. You need healing, herr Javos. The kind that neither I nor mein mission can give. Und...

Sieg nodded.

Perhaps it vould help you rekindle your flame if you brought your light to another. Your tormentor left more than one victim...

Sieg sighed. Javos had just taken it in a manner wholly different from how he had meant. His hand fell slowly to his side, as his gaze sank to the ground.

Have faith, herr Javos. Not in gods, or me, but in yourself. Forgive me, mein Freund. I did not vish to reject you, or cause you pain.

*An eerie sound pierced the foggy night that drifted through the Parisian streets. Someone, or more, something... something almost as loud and ominous as a banshee... was whistling.
To say it was heard all over the city would not be innacurate. The sound was no louder in any one place than another, but shrilled through EVERYTHING, and everyone, lik esome foreshadow or protent of an unspecified doom.

The whistler was none other than the Fiend known commonly as Ice, or Deciet. The weird, deranged figure sat atop a neoclassical structure, reclining against stonework with his oddly angled legs before him, one bent at the 'knee' so his arm could rest on it, a ciagrelle between his fingers, like a replacement for the pipes of a VERY deranged and nightmarish Pan.

Gazing out over the shrouded city, Ice saw with eyes that pierced the veil of fog and darkness, seeing instead in the colours and throws of life and death, the city a living, breathing thing with its own pulse, it own heartbeat. Reaching out his hand, he needed only to squeeze on that pulse to send all life scurrying from the main 'arteries' as the temperature plummeted in accordance with his will, driving all but the most optomistic of Kine from the night... leaving only hunters and predators to patrol the city streets like the dying breaths of a fallen giant. The pimps, the sluts, the johns, and the whores.

Smirking, Ice vaulted from his vantage point, his rigid hair turning from the solid wind resistant spikes he preferred to flowing locks of violet and dusky black, almost like nightshade, as he fell. Streaming behind him, the change in hairstyle added flair and beauty to the awkward anatomy ICe possessed, the change in his tail from brittle and noisy spinal plates to smooth dextrous prehensile and spaded black giving him an almost cat-like grace as he landed, not on hooved, but on soft feet encased in leather that ran up to his now-normal knee.
From the knee to the waist, taut and supple leather encased the well shaped and strong limbs, silver chains and buckles catching the light as Ice straightened a hint of red flowing the clothing at the base of one leg and as a star on the hip on the opposing side. The creatures chest also changed to match in with the new body form, the tribal markings remaining but a more flesh toned body colour running beneath it instead of the off-palour blue Ice normally bore. n****e rings caught the light, a finger bone dangling from one as he chose to leave it all on view, only tightly wrapped sparring wraps over both forearms and hands accenting his upper body.
Piercings ran across his collar bones, shapely neck curving up to features almost as perfectly formed as Ice;s normal cherubic facial features, though hints of violet ran around the lips and eyes, which were deeply shadowed as if someone had applied eye liner and grey eye make up.

In short, Ice was doing a MORE than passable Seraphim impression, his movements predatory and fluid under the silken guise he chose to use, as mucha devil as the true Seraphim himself.*

Now... to find the pinned butterfly, correct? Let no other profane the use of my vassal, for fear of my wrath...

*The city was cold now, far colder in this ever present fog than it should have been. Only the die hard would be out, and it was them Ice was seeking. Emerging from the alleyway he was in, cigarette between his gorgeous lips and water trickling down his warm chest as he moved through the fog, he put off the aura of absoliute attraction that turned even the heads of other males, seeking his first prey - either a 'customer' stupid enough to think he was selling, or a street walker stupid enough to think he was buying. Either way, he'd make the first step towards finding out who in this city was responsible for the current state of his Princess.*

As I will respect yours, Seigfried.

*Javos's voice stayed totally even and emotionless. He stared out into the coming dawn as it approached, waiting until full sun up before he allowed himself to shed the wracking tears that waited in his chest. Silent even in this new wave of grief, Javos didnt notice deer had approached until the shuddering sadness left him exhausted and broken against the loam. He watched the herd for a few minutes, then rose silently as their backs were turned. Bringing one down with little effort, Javos dragged it into the hollow where Seig lay, but he didnt eat from it, as he normally would.

For a while, the big cat stood over Seig, just looking down at him, then flopped down on top of the cainite, sharing his warmth as he stared out into the sun, not willing to even risk sleep.


As dusk again began its slow approach, Javos rose silently, and padded for the exit. He left without word, and without looking back into the hollow. He continued walking, far out beyond where he had wandered for the last few weeks in this place, and simply continued in a straight line, back the way they had originally come, though without any point or goal to his wandering.

When Seig awaoke, besides the deer left for him, he;d probably also note Javos's tracks went from very clear pads to human footprints at the edge of the hollow, traces of blood adding to it some meters out, though by no means enough or regular enough to cause concern*

*The first idiot had thought he was for sale. Ice was still laughing about it an hour later, with blood dripping down his gorgeous chest that the stupid male had thought he could so much as touch, let alone lick.
Ice sneered and ground the severed nose lying on the carpet further into the pile, his boots smoothly turning the dismembered torso of the corpse over, allowing him to dip his fingers into a currently NON bloodstained pocket and draw out a card with a number scrawled on the back in lipstick.

The Fiend smirked and twiddled it between his fingers as he licked blood from his other hand, then lifted the pristine white phone from the holder in the hotel room, smearing vibrant red blood over the numbers as he dialled.

The conversation was short and sweet - the woman on the other end was either a Madam or worked for one as one of her top girls and at the mentioned sum of money Ice promised, she was more than willing to organise a meeting within the next half an hour. Ice yawned with contented pleasure, extending a hand towards the remains, shadows slicing out chunks of flesh until only a blood stain was left on the bed and floor.
Standing, he left with the same fluid grace he had entered with, purloining the dead man's car downstairs for the short drive to the meeting place. Slowly but surely, he would get closer and closer to what he sought through the Parisian underground, leaving a trail of death in his wake*