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Chris hadn't been to New York in a long time, but the first time in this life. It was nice, bigger and with a lot of more people as well. He knew about it mostly because of the things that were there other than humans, that was the part of the city he was looking for, which it was all over. He knew a little diner that mostly catered to those of the magical type. Their choices were things that magical creatures would dine on, some cheap, and some not so cheap. Their best drink was a liquor he knew he couldn't get if he was in a human place. But here, in the darkened places where humans can't see, he can get almost anything he wants.

Logan was leaned up against a wall in an alleyway, consumed in lighting his cigarette. His bloody lighter wouldn't come on, even though the air outside was still. It was good luck it was, too; he barely had on a shirt due to a skirmish with an angry shopkeeper who apparently found it rude that Logan had stolen a couple of beers and a cigarette pack. The man was now spilled over one of his shop racks, his blood running over big eyed stuffed animals. Luckily, the man didn't have any weapons. They were more irritating than hurtful for the hybrid, like gnats resting on his skin, and irritating things had no room in his life. 14 billion years of existence made him have a zero tolerance for anything that was less than perfect in his life. He'd lost all interest in money, in shallow things like big houses and success and love. He rather just liked to kill, eat sleep, and sometimes let his werewolf rake over the reins for a couple hundred years, enroll himself in colleges and highschools. Due to all of that, Logan knew everything from the 1200's to the 2000's, knew how everyone's understanding of everything evolved, knew how everything had elvolved. Minds, humans, everything.

Logan glanced up at the sound of sirens, then growled in irritation--police were so unnecessary--and turned the corner of the building, navigating the city's alleyways, stopping a few away.

Chris was walking out of the small diner, a glass bottle of shiny liquor in his hand, taking small sips as he walks around the corner, nearly running into the other man. He jerked back, slightly surprised and irritated.
He just wanted to go somewhere and maybe sleep, but on the other hand he just wants to stay out and see what he can find in the night. It was getting darker and the main light was the police lights that were coming from a few blocks away. It kind of surprises him because they hardly come around here and see what's wrong. Christopher's new life was interesting to say the least, the new technology that was around surprised him and he loved some of it, not all of it though. Although the life he liked the best was 200 years ago, even if the things he did wasn't really accepted back then, that's a good thing about these times, some things are a lot better than the past billions of years. It's decent enough for him.

Logan immediately reacted, pulling out a knife from his jacket and pushing the man up against the nearest wall, knife against his throat. The movement seemed to happen all at once due to how smoothly he moved--it was like he was water, moving in a flowy manner--languidly smooth, but quick, like he was bored in an urgent manner.

"Who the **** are you?" He spat, expression as cruel as ever, green eyes filled with anger. He'd acted on reflex, but he was too proud to even hint at the possibility they were wrong, so he kept the man off of his toes with a knife to his throat and a wall to his back.

Chris was momentarily surprised at how quick the other man shoved him against the wall. The sight of the knife hardly phased him at all as he raised his hands in surrender.

"Calm the hell down, I'm not going to do anything, damn." He looks down at the blade then at the one wielding it and sighs. "I'm no threat, werewolf."

Logan rolled his eyes. "I'm something that was born around campfires, sugar pie. You got the wrong version of me." He growled, green eyes flashing as the assassin pressed the blade further against the man's throat. "Try again." He said.

"Well now I'm at a loss for what you are, I was just taking a guess because the only violence I've seen was from werewolves like you or demons." He chuckles, wincing slightly at the blade at his neck. He may be able to survive this if the other cuts his throat, but it will still hurt like hell. "But really, I am no threat to you, it was a simple accident." Chris looks around slightly, not moving his head, frowning at the sight of his bottle broken at their feet. "Aw, and you wasted my good liquor. That was quite expensive."

Logan swiped his tongue around his mouth and dropped the guy to his feet. "Then you better be careful where you're going next time, bub." He said. "I'm an assassin. If you don't know what that is, go to some creepy old dude's house. That's how most people in the movies do it," He said, shoving his hands in his jacket's pockets and stalking off.

Chris chuckles and bounds up beside him.
"Honestly, were you trying to scare me? If so you'd have to try a lot harder than that. I've been around for a while and it takes a lot do scare me." Chris puts his hands into his pockets and casually walks at his side, like nothing ever happened.

"Ya know, it's a**holes like you that fuel me to be the way I am--bump into someone and then kill them," He growled. "Don't think you're special just because you don't find me scary. I assure you, the people that I loom over with a knife covered in their blood as I make them watch while I disembody their limbs usually fill my ego up enough that I don't need some lowlife's approval." He grumbled, walking faster.

"Touchy touchy." Chris mumbles but keeps in step beside of him. "And for the record, it's not like I care that much. You're not the only person like that around here, hun. You don't even know what I am, I could be anything."

"Never said I was special, bunnykins," He said. "And by the looks of it, you're some witch or Angel thing. Either way, brute force wins over magic, especially when that brute force can't be faltered by anything. So shoo before I shoot." He says, brandishing a gun after putting his hand inside his jacket. He pulled back the hammer and put it on the stranger's temple as they walked, waiting for any sign that he would so walking so that Logan could too.

Chris was certainly surprised that he guessed right, it was very rare for anyone to actually do that. He looked at the gun against his head and sighs, stopping.
"Regardless, even if you did shoot me, it would be worthless. It's not like you can actually kill me." Chris says the last part with a small chuckle.

"Yeah, well, it'll be fun," Logan said, pulling out a knife and flipping it over his index finger before slamming it into the guy's gut. He left it in there so that he could pull it out and kept walking, glad to have gotten rid of the nuisance.

(I'm sorry if this sets back the rp, bit with Logan there is basically just no other way than to be persistant)

The teen groans in pain and pulls out the knife from his stomach, wincing at the sharp pain and the smell of blood. The wound heals slowly, but enough for him to catch up with this stranger is finds so interesting.
"Like I said," He says kind of breathlessly. "Kind of hard to kill one of my kind. Even harder to kill me. I find you interesting, that's why I keep following you. I mean most people in my shoes would have probably ran already and if they hadn't, they'd be dead by now. But you managed to get someone as persistent as me following you."

Logan sighed and snapped his jaw shut, pursing his lips. "Then I guess I'll have to stop being interesting," He said, shoving his hands in his pockets and clenching his jaw. He was already annoying and he airway wanted to throw him out of a window from the Empire State building in America.

He continued walking, just weaving in and out of alleyways, no intentions of hoping home with this kid on his mind.

"I doubt that's possibly with your dark demeanor that's about you. I'm just drawn in by those type of people, and you just happen to be one of those type." Christopher is practically floating at his side as they continue on, further and further away from where they had started not so long ago.
His eyes shine in the light of the moon, the blue looking brighter than they already are, his skin looks even more pale and his hair seems to have a bluish tint to it as well.
"And I'm guessing if I need to continue this, I need to be more...persistent." The young man smirks slightly, a flash of white teeth showing.

Logan had all but blocked out everything the kid was saying, determined not to talk and he was very offensive and sarcastic and would reply to anything anyone said in the most smarta$$ way possible.

"You're holding back, I can tell." Chris laughed at the other man, it echoing through the streets. "You're trying so hard and I am finding it very funny."

Logan lifted part of his lip in a sneer of disgust at the laugh. Was that really what bold and girls 'fan girled' over? It wasn't that he wanted to shrivel up and die, no, but it was that it was so simple that Logan wanted to mix it with something. Anything. He was tempted to trip the kid or punch him, just to make it more complex.

Logan hated simplicity. If He was going to do something, it was going to be smart, not simple. It would show off how he liked to show off or it was just laziness. He loved laziness, though--but that was just a painting of how he himself was complex and since he liked himself he would like complexity.

The only reason Logan was obsessing over the laugh was because it'd been so long since he'd heard one. Sixty or seventy years, at least, and he got bored. And got on the Internet sometimes. Yes, the capitalization was appropriate, because it was a pretty sinister place. And Logan now only used Google when SafeSearch was on.