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** makes sense **

Oblivious to Lanthe's... issues... Revy grasped Galacia's tiny hand, and in a moment they both disappeared. Several Hops¹ later, they ended up in a nearby park, though Revonne's color had paled somewhat. With how much energy she had expended - especially with a 'light-weight' passenger - it was rather amazing she was still on her feet.

The young lady let out a sigh, the gun clacking slightly as she shifted supporting legs, letting go of the girl's cooled hand. She didn't really care about pulse or whatnot; a physically-enabled phantasm wasn't even close to the oddest thing Revy had encountered. A few people around them looked, but most were preoccupied with their own activities to notice any oddities - probably thinking the two to be a mother/older sister and daughter/younger sister, even if that couldn't be further from the truth. Looking down to the mystery child, inquiring "Y'know, I don't think I've gotten yer name yet, lil' missy!"

Squatting down to her level, she put on her best smile - the effect of which was marred somewhat by the scar tissue across her face's left side twisting around her mouth - and stated "I'm Revy, 's what I like ta' be called." Barely taking a breath she continued "Anything in-particular ya had in mind? ...Er, besides smackin' me wi' an ice-ball again."

¹ A series of Jumps or Traveling stops in rapid succession, for reference's sake.

(Umm how would everyone not notice two wings sticking out of Glaceia's back? They are not exactly tiny ya know. xD)

** uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh... convenient ignorance? I thought that was just part of the avatar image **

(Yeah Glaceia is winged. xD)

Glaceia looked absolutely amazed when they changed venue almost instantly to a park and started chanting. "Do it again! Do it again!" While Revy was obviously in no shape to do so, she still might appreciate the the compliment. It was a very good thing that it was currently Halloween as Glaceia's appearance at any other time of the year would surely bring a lot of unwanted attention. After all, having a pair of wings growing from your back isn't exactly subtle.

Then when Revy got down to her level and asked her name, she smiled and said. "I is Glaceia! I like Revy!" However once Revy brought about the little iceball incident, the little ghost looked down at her feet in embarrassment and whimpered. "Me sorry." She then immediately cheered up and said. "Me knows how to make up!" She then held out her hand and a thin icy rod formed in it. Then the rod started to branch out and the branches turned into leaves and at one end a lovely open rose formed. Finally the rod shaped itself into a stem and Glaceia happily offered it up. "For you!"

Unfortunately for them, a couple of people happened to look up right as Glaceia created the icy rose...and while her wings could be brushed aside as being part of a Halloween 'costume', her frigid powers could not.

Then just to make matters worse, one of them shouted the following. "That child is a freak! She must be a servant of the devil here to trick us with her appealing looks and send us all astray!" It appeared that the duo had managed to attract the attention of a religious nut. Could the situation possibly get any worse?

(I have a feeling that the answer to that will be, yes, yes it can. Also no offense to anyone who is religious as I am a christian myself.)

** none taken. don't care for Bible-bashers, and don't know of many - even other Christians - that tolerate them either **

Revonne chuckled as she scratched her head. "Maybe later, hon. I'mma bit winded ri' now." And then the child's subject changed again. She was definitely a match for the chaotic Traveler's meandering mental state.

"Pleased t' meetcha, Gala-ceia~!" she sing-sang, ruffling the runt's hair all affectionately as she apologized. How could the girl get any cuter? Of course, just as she thought that, she did, bearing forth a rose-shaped icicle right before her eyes. "Aww, for me? Ya shouldn't have!" Revy replied with a slight giggle.

Unfortunately, the moment was broken up by some jerk getting self-righteous on their butts. To that, though, Revy turned to face the Bible-basher, yelling as she stomped her foot down "Hey, what's t' big idea?! Ain't no devil worshipers 'round here, so buzz off b'fore I give ya somethin' ta cry about!" She had half a mind to just raise a little pocket of Chaos right around that person, but somehow she kept her anger in check and stood between Galaceia and the loud-mouth, arms crossed, giving the stink-eye to the offending party over yonder.

Some people don't understand.

At first he thought it was just plain trickery, what this little child was doing. Nobody could be that skilled of an illusionist.

But there were no hidden machines or special effects lighting around them. That gave the Assistant pause.

And if this were no mere illusion, then...was she a mutant?

Some people can't articulate it that well.

The little girl had ice powers. It had been so long since the Assistant saw someone with proper ice manipulating powers. Would it be proper? Could it be proper? The Newtonian laws of nature should not be violated, thus saith the Lord, according to those fundies at the church on the corner of 3rd and Milhouse. No one should summon snow and ice at their own will. We humans are supposed to be limited, so that we can make greater works, and because we can't be trustworthy when given external powers outside of God.

But what if they considered that some people were just born that way?

The "city of never ending fortune and serendipity," as they call it, has had its share of strange occurrences. But today felt different. Two snowstorms in the span of an hour, only to go away within minutes. And now mutants show up.

The Assistant's welsh corgi barked, having sniffed out a delicious pumpkin pie being carted over to a family picnic nearby. The owner, cloaked in the most inconspicuous brown trenchcoat and a red beanie, yanked on the dog's crimson leash.

"No, Jaime," he sternly reprimanded. The dog growled back, ever meekly. "Wait."

Some people should look past people's flaws. Sometimes, I mean.

The Assistant quickly retrieved an old cellphone from one of his trenchcoat pockets and dialed a number. He pressed the device to his ear, and eventually began:

"Adam. It's me. The Assistant. In case you're still living underneath that pigsty-rock-place, there were snowstorms today. Was this your doing?"

The man walked down the streets, sniffing a tad disdainfully as he glanced at the buildings. Houses, homes, malls, houses, malls, houses, shops, houses, a rather decrepit garden, houses, the A.P. Weather Research center, houses...

Lanthe walked. He left his car near the locations of the Old Lady Incident, because he knew that eventually, someone would try to kill him, and he didn't want to leave a scratch in the Bentley.

Lanthe was not, in fact, in a best of moods. Just as he had got rid of the old hags - without maiming any, if you're starting up to think of crazy, oh so very crazy, theories- Marvaunt phoned him.

Marvaunt was, in fact, a ghoul.

A very troubled ghoul.

"Look, I don't care what you tell them, but- yeah. Yeah. Look, don't start up with- yeah. Look, you fool, I know she drained your new food source, bu- yeah. AND burned your neighbour. AND exploded with your girlfriend's crypt. Listen here, you should speak with the Meringue and Asfralargt Agency of - ALL RIGHT, FINE! I'll- of course not! " Lanthe snapped, hanging up.

Bastard, he thought vaguely as he continued walking down the streets.

Truth is, Lanthe had developed a reputation over the centuries. A supernatural lawyer, you could say. He was not, however, one of the nice ones. And he only stepped up to the Council on special occasions -i.e , when there was profit. Huge profit. Not when a rambunctious undead asked him to defend him in court against his psychotic ex-girlfriend.

Lanthe sighed and walked onto an alley, wincing as he stepped on a defrosting puddle of water, and Changed again.

Well, that's better, he thought as the rather evil-looking pigeon left the shadows.

Now then, Lanthe mused as he perched on a windowsill, let's find that ghost girl and the Manipulator.

Demonic time traveller, indeed...

Glaceia giggled when Revy ruffled her hair and then got even happier when she accepted her icy rose. However that happiness was short lived as very quickly after that, a bible basher started spewing hate at her. While she didn't really understand what he was saying, his venemous look and vicious tone of voice was something that she could understand.

Getting a little frightened, she hid behind Revy's right leg and then clung to it like it was a safety blanket. The little girl then started to whimper a bit which served to only further incense the hate filled "christian".

"Shut up you bitch, I know a devil worshiper when I see one and I'm about ready to think that you are one of them as well. Now get away from that demon spawn, I'm going to give that hell spawn something to whimper about."

The man then picked up a baseball bat sized fallen tree branch and started walking menacingly toward the little ghost. "Best to exterminate that tool of Satan before it has a chance to do ruin us good Christians."

Meanwhile the onlookers started to leave the area as they had no interest at all in hanging around such a scene which made it clear that Revy was completely on her own. Then to make things even worse, the temperature was starting to drop again thanks to Glaceia's growing fear which would likely give Revy a clue that if she didn't do something about this guy quickly, there would likely be yet another snowstorm.

(I didn't really want to do yet another snowstorm so I thought I would give Revy a chance to prevent that. Also lovely man huh?)

"Wait, hold up." The Assistant felt it first in his arm. A slight chill, a certain numbness in his fingers.

Then, the commotion. "Adam, I will have to call you back. No, I'm pretty sure you had nothing to do with this." Just what were these people walking away from? The- no, that can't be right, they can't possibly be walking away from a guy with a big ol' stick closing in on what seems to be a mutant and her friend. What kind of mentality...?

He quickly put his phone away, and reached for something else in his trench coat. Jaime, his dog, was growling towards the epicenter of the scene unfolding.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," The Assistant suddenly said in blunt disbelief, half-way through with pulling out his item. The mesomorph build, the badly-shaven head, that really big nose led him to conclude one thing: "It's that guy."

A park. How convenient. If anything, this was the halfway point of Aervin's journey.

Public area, so sword-sheath hidden, so we're good so far, he quickly checked off. He blended in adequately, save for his new coat, somewhat of an oddity in the resurfaced daytime.

There were small paths, green fields and autumn brown trees up ahead. A few people were sitting at tables, eating, sorting candy, pulling over masks and having a good time waiting for the night. This was going to be one wild Halloween, they supposed, as the two snowstorms were probably symbolic in some way of the day.

"Nice costume," a tall, dark-skinned woman in an anime cosplay of a certain show whose name Aervin had on the tip of his tongue but couldn't pin point exactly (stupid "soft power") complimented. "Are you supposed to be Izaya Orihara by chance?"

Oh yeah, huh. That was quite a nice getup. Well, Aervin wasn't wearing a blue shirt, so: "No, not really."

"Oh." The woman didn't seem disappointed, and gave a smile to her three other friends at the table, dark-skinned and in radically different costumes. "Well, you kinda pull off the look!"

I don't like being a manipulative bastard. "Uh, thank you?"

He moved on. There were people passing by him in increasing droves. Early trick-or-treaters, people moving quickly away from something-

What was that up above? Oh, crap.

It looks like a mother and her child versus some buffer guy with a branch big enough to seriously injure someone. This wasn't going to end well.

And Aervin's "soft power" agreed. This was the perfect opportunity to strike, to get in the middle, to scare a predator, to bully the bully. After all, that's how they did it in...some shows that he watched and others that he had not watched that were somehow injected into his brain and thinking processes-

Where's the security guards? Who's calling 911? Why is everyone...?

Not caring who was watching, Aervin quickly set down his backpack and pulled out one of his sword holsters, in case things got ugly.

He hoped it wouldn't.

("I thought Izaya had a knife, not a..."

"Oh crap, that's an actual sword. Call the police!!!")

(It's a stick the size of a baseball bat, not an actual baseball bat. xD)

** close enough. whooooOOP! **

Crap crap crap crap not good, not good at all. The urge to just Travel the jerk into a tree and give them something to whimper about was dampened by the realization that that might just make Glaceia cry even harder; this problem couldn't be solved with violence. Revy turned back to the child, kneeling down to hand the icicle rose back to her so it (hopefully) wouldn't be harmed and patting the little girl. As she stood back up one hand grasped the child's, even as the diminutive booger tried to hide behind Revy's leg.

Oh, but he had to go and break out the 'b'-word, didn't he? That really stoked the Chaos Mistress's flames. Flames of Internet-troll-hatred, anyhow. Nevermind that the area was clearing of people, which was both good and bad. Bad, for obvious reasons - but good because it meant she could go all-out and no one would be the wiser until the police reports started showing up.

Too bad she'd spent her daily dose of Chaos on those crummy hunters. If she hadn't gone all-out then, she might have had enough to turn the man's bat into, say, a rabbit, or a rubber snake. Wouldn't that have been a sight! Sadly, that wasn't possible, but she still had plenty of Traveling left in her.

"Hey, this ain't no crusade, ya jerk. Ain't no blood-sacrificin' or animal slaughter either, so git'cher knickers untwisted and scram." Even with the threat of being bludgeoned, Revy didn't appear one bit afraid of the impending beating. That didn't mean she wasn't planning for a good way out of this without giving the man a real pantsing.

Then an idea struck her like a lemon duct-taped to a gold brick; why not play up to the man's fears? Might at least give her a moment to think of a good spot to Jump to. "B'sides, if we is, ya don't wanna get us mad. Don't want no nothin' t' happen to ya later, 'm ah right?"

A Southern Fried Satanist? What a hoot!

I was leaning in the shadows, grinning like a necrophiliac in a morgue as I held out my camera and filmed the scene of the ghost kid and the Manipulator and the psycho. And the nasty bloke with the sword.

Okay, now look: You couldn't have honestly expected me to go there and "save them", could you? Please. I prefer not to get into fights. Besides, to be perfectly honest, Revy the punk chick did have a certain demonic look, if we looked at her ( and her hair ) from a certain light. You couldn't blame the poor man if he found her terrifying. The child, however, was another matter.

Still, no big deal. It was obvious. Some hero would come and save the girl and save the child and save the day.

I dislike heroes. They areusually suicidally gloomy when sober and homicidally insane when drunk. Or vice versa.

And he did come, all tall and dark and handsome. With a freaking sword. Who uses swords these days?

And I bet they were all preparing to beat the crap out of the man. Sword, chaos magic and innocent little blizzard.

There is a question I have asked myself all these long centuries:

Why am I surrounded by idiots?

But it's true. A sword? Please. A camera does the work, really. I send this on youtube and the man gets mobbed and thrown into court for intended violence. Done. I might even blackmail him for a bit, really. Though I don't know what will be the usefullness of THAT .

I continued to film the incident, hidden in the shadows.

"Oh, great," The Assistant groaned. "What is that guy doing?!"

There was a young man wearing a blue coat pulling out a sword sheath from his backpack. It was the first of its kind he had seen. Wasn't that inconvenient, though? But then again, pulling it out from one's back, that was pretty dangerous. At least the man took that precaution to put his backpack down first.

But there was still that bloke with the stick. And he was getting closer to the probably-a-mutant!

"Hide, Jaime," he motioned to his dog, letting go of the leash. The dog, being relatively intelligent, hid in the bushes behind The Assistant, waiting for his owner's command to strike.

The Assistant quickly dropped on his belly, minimizing his visibility. He reached for his trench coat pocket again for that item he was about to pull out earlier. All there was left to do was to aim at someone - the guy with the stick, or the guy with the sword?

----

"Mister officer," a young elementary schooler outside of the park worriedly said to an officer nearby, "There's a guy with a sword in the park and I think he might cut off someone's head."

Police code 417. "Wait here, son," responded the officer. "We'll take care of that and that mean-looking guy with the stick." There was already a sizable crowd being escorted outside the park, and most were wondering just what the heck was going on. A sword? Weren't swords banned by the city a while back? (Probably because knives were better, more efficient, but still.)

And so a group of three officers moved forward down the concrete path, quickly trotting towards the scene.

This is stupid, Aervin thought. Why of all the inopportune times did he have to raise his sword high in the air for all to see?

Not that it was an absurdly sharp sword. Old Oxide was oxidized and rusty. Blunt enough to not cut off a limb, only break several bones. But still, that compulsion to show off! Stupid "soft power."

Despite the three years with his sword, he had only several days experience with longsword training. Not enough to beat the pros or historical experts of German longsword-ery. His "soft power," on the other hand...

This is really stupid, Aervin thought again, trying to remember what stance he went into ("Near ward?" "The fool?" A fool indeed). But he made a choice, and now had to wait for the inevitable legal repercussions.

Had he inadvertently activated that "soft power" by now, he would have heard and felt the brush of a small, grenade-like device at his feet, nestling behind his backpack.

"Hi and who are you" sid a man that came out of the shadows "im here in need of help do you guys want to help me or not yes or no question pleas no answer with anything but yes or no" he sais in a cold dark voice like he was about to kill them (which he is not) if they say yes this plan will be complete he thinks to himself wondering if they could actualy be of help to him but either way what else can he do no one else could help him they are his only option

(OOC: Hello there, jaykob! To be honest, I am incredibly confused as to what you mean with your post. Who are you talking to, exactly?)

(you and the guy who raised his sword sorry for being confusing)