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A peculiar looking canine, something of a hound of sorts, wandered the streets and alleyways around Death City. Was it a stray? Well... It could pass as one but no, it was not. It was just... bored. Frankie didn't know what to do with himself. He knew he probably shouldn't have been wandering around Death City of all places. He, a demon, wasn't so welcomed there and it was probably a dangerous decision to be out and about like that where Weapon-Meister duos could find him and try to kill him. But did he care so much? No. No one would suspect a mutt, would they? This blows... He thought, scratching at his ear. He wanted something exciting to happen. Some action! Some crazy-full blown plan to... do whatever the heck someone wanted to do. 'Mercenary for hire'... Pff, please, he'd hardly been called to do anything in months. He'd might as well just go out of business already... Not like it was a business or anything. He just liked to be paid for that stuff. No point in wasting a bunch of energy and risking your own life and get nothing in return, right? Right.

Frankie, out of sheer boredom, barked for little to reason at all. Who knows, maybe someone would hear him and want to come get him or something. He was half-tempted to start chasing his own tail, he was so bored. Nothing to do around here... Absolutely nothing.

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Though Frankie heard footsteps coming his way, he never bothered to move. Eh, most of the time people didn't notice a dog in the alleyway... Unless they were animal lovers. In which case they might call a pound. Not that Frankie even really cared much on whether or not he'd be put in a pound anyway. Heck, it may end up being more fun than sitting in an alleyway. If not then he could escape easily. He'd done it before, he could do it again.

Rat?! How on Earth do I look like an overgrown rat?! He thought to himself. Frankie knew that he looked better than such mutants. Rats... Ugh, such simple minded creatures. He never minded them since he tended to live amongst them but they never intrigued him, really. Nothing interesting ever came from rats. He looked up at the boy, wearing a nonchalant expression as he spoke of 'owners' and 'looking for owners'. Frankie was at least happy that the boy wasn't speaking in the usual babyish tone he'd get. He didn't bother to wag his tail or anything of the sort. It just wasn't his style, really. Fetch? No, thank you. He thought. Eh, he was bored but not that bored. Fetch wasn't something he enjoyed very much. Good practice for running, maybe but it still wasn't something he'd prefer to do. Then the boy inquired on whether or not he was a stray. Not like he could answer, really... Well, he could but it would be a bit of a surprise to him. Eh, who cares? Communication is communication. An answer was an answer. Frankie got up from his laying down position. He sat in front of the boy, looking him directly in the eye. "Yes and no. Depends on your definition of stray. Never had an owner in the first place and I don't technically belong in a city at all. I ain't your average canid." Frankie's voice--his normal, human speaking voice--would echo through the kid's mind. Frankie lifted a paw as if offering to shake hands. "The name's Frankie Wolff. Who're you, kid?"






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Frankie grinned, showing his canine teeth upon hearing that he was a 'special exception'. Of course he was! Hell hounds were extraordinary. He listened as Donovan went on about 'belonging here'. Good point, it wasn't some oh-so-exclusive club, Death City. Perhaps he felt he didn't belong because he didn't really have much of a home here. He wanted to laugh when he asked if he had a bounty on his head. Well... You could put it that way.

He let Donovan go on. Boy, was he a talker... Frankie made a mental note not to tell him much of anything in terms of secrets. Who knows, maybe he'd end up yapper to someone else about it. Donovan mentioned something about taking him on. That boy take him on? Pff, sure. Good luck, kiddo. He thought to himself. Frankie knew he was nothing special but his cockiness got the better of him at the mere mention of someone challenging him. It was something he probably should work on...

Different voice? What kind of voice was he expecting from a canine, anyway? Now he was curious... Eh, whatever. The question, though it intrigued him, wasn't really something he thought worth of asking. "Oh, thanks.~ 'Cause I'm not really a dog. A wolf--I'm a wolf. Well... a hybrid, really. Werewolf and Hellhound. Hold on a sec, would ya? I just need to get into something a bit more... comfy." He said to Donovan as he stood from his sitting position. Frankie then, slowly, shifted into a human form. Losing the fur. He still had some canine-like teeth and still had ears and a tail. Now in flesh instead of fur, Frankie stood on two legs. He stretched his arms before putting his hands in his own pockets. "Much better, ain't it?" Instead of telepathically, he spoke as one normally would, with their own voice and such.





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Frankie couldn't help but laugh at Donovan's display of both embarrassment and frustration. It was cute--adorable, really. Of course, that wasn't something he was going to go on saying out loud. "It's alright, mate. Ya didn't know." He gave him a reassuring smile. Quite the sweet kid, Donovan. A good person to be acquainted with. Perhaps useful for his little 'business' later. He heard the term 'hellbound' used instead of 'hellhound'. Perhaps he misheard him... "A Hellhound," he put emphasis on the word 'hound' to correct what he may have heard previously, "is pretty much just another kind of wolf. But we're bigger and stronger than your average mutt. Some people call us Demon Hounds or Devil Hounds, it's all the same really. Just another way of saying 'big *** wolf that can possibly breathe fire or rip people to shreds in an instant'." Frankie shrugged, as though it were really nothing. To him, it wasn't much. He never really thought much of it. It was nothing too powerful. Not like the big-guys.

When he said sorry again, Frankie shook his head. "Nah, you're good. It's fine, Don. Can I call you that? Don?" He inquired. Frankie would hate to give a nickname that he hated. He may have been a tease sometimes but not like that, that was just rude. "Eh, I'm not that old. Just 22. Human years. I don't really go by dog years, I find them to be silly considering my... condition, I guess. Like I've said, not exactly your normal dog." He laughed a little at his own joke. "Say, why're you in the alleyways, anyway? Backroads like this ain't safe. All kinds of criminal things happen in alleyways."








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Frankie laughed at little at the boy's nervous reaction to his correct on names. "Nah, nah. It's cool, kid. Don't worry 'bout it." He grinned. He nodded when Don had gotten it right. When he heard him talk of having red eyes and not knowing what he was, Frankie looked a little puzzled. Having looked at the boy's soul, using his natural ability of soul perception, he could tell--for the most part--what he was. "Well, you're a demon, aren't ya? Are ya looking for what breed or somethin'?" He said, sticking his hands in his pockets and tilting his head to he side slightly with curiosity.

When he said that nicknames were okay, he smiled. Good. Frankie would probably call him Don anyway, even if he wasn't fond of it. He heard Don's little story, nodding the whole time. Tearing his own heart out? Wouldn't that hurt? Yeesh... That's a little extreme. "Yikes... Does it hurt? Rippin' your heart out like that, I mean. "





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He couldn't help but grin at the odd mix of embarrassment, self-pity, and self-loathing that Don was showing. What a strange kid... Then again, Frankie wasn't one to judge. Not that being strange was bad in his mind, on the contrary he found it to be a privilege to be different or strange. It made life just a little more fascinating and action-packed. Nevertheless, he saw that the boy was getting a little insecure and decided to say something. "Eh, don't worry 'bout it, Don. We're all pretty much freaks. I mean, for gods' sake, it's not everyday you run into a hellhound-werewolf hybrid, right? Besides, being freaky just means the ordinary people won't get ya. So, screw 'em 'cause they ain't worth the time." He laughed a little, remembering when he used to think like that. He always saw himself as a bit of a weirdo, especially considering his occupation. But it was what he did that really snapped him out of that mindset.

He stayed silent a little, thinking about what to say to answer his question. "Well, mate, that's a tall order you got there. The full name's Frankie Wolff. Hellhound, but you already knew that. I'm sort of a... Freelance-fighter if ya get what I mean. Some people say I'm a traitor but I'm really just doin' my job. Don't really side with anyone 'cept for if they are reliable. Never really cared 'bout any side. Mm, what else is there? Oh, yeah! I can breathe fire. It's a neat little party trick, that's for sure. Useful for fightin' too." He gave a little tiny puff of smoke from his mouth just for kicks. He laughed a little, shrugging afterwards. "That's 'bout all there is know, really." He paused there, letting stuff sink in. "Say, kid, how's about we get going somewhere else? People'll talk if they see two demons makin' small-talk in a dark alleyway. Ya know how people can get."



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Frankie sighed at the dog joke. Oh boy... He knew that he was gonna get a ton of these. Heck, he already had gotten a bunch throughout his life, but he figured he'd get more of those in the City. He got over the joke though, and nodded a little at Don's words. Though he didn't fully understand, he took it into mind. Betray him? Well, it was possible that it might happen. So, no promises there but he'd remember that for sure. No trust equaled no getting his own heart ripped out. Not that Frankie ever trusted people upon meeting them for the first time anyway...

Now that pun was a good one. Frankie couldn't help but laugh a little at it. Okay, so it wasn't a good pun really, but it was that was hard to not laugh at. Especially since Don, over there, was laughing like a hyena about it. After Don had agreed to change locations, he smiled again. "Alright then, how about we wander a little bit, yeah? You got anywhere you need to go?" He figured he'd ask. Frankie knew that not everyone had such an open ended schedule like he did.


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Frankie nodded and was about to say something but then let Don go on his little rambling about following. He was slightly confused as to what he meant exactly, putting two and two together when he mentioned what he assumed was the DMA. "It's alright, mate. I'm sure they wouldn't wanna see my face there anyway. I've kinda, er... Helped out in a few things against 'em." He laughed a little, remembering those few 'things'. Like he mentioned before, he was a freelancer. From time to time he would be with DMA and then other times he would be against DMA, no big deal. Not like he really cared about either way, anyway. If it meant he would be getting his fair pay, he'd do it. When Don mentioned earlier, he laughed a little. "Heh, I get what ya mean. My vision ain't the best either." He joked. Although his vision was as good as the average dog, he did have his moments where it would not be so great. Although, that was partially due to his being color blind. "Yeah, sure. Why not." He answered to him asking if the park was alright. Frankie began to walk out of the alleyway and into the more open parts of the city to get to the park. It wasn't that far, just around the corner, really.

(Exit to the park)



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