Her name is Ravine.

Her purpose was one. The answer for those who cross her path is to look into her bullion eyes. They didn't ever need a full answer as to why, but in a way they would just, in some way, know. In their last moments they would see what was to become of them, and what would happen after she would finish what she had existed to do. Ravine was merciful; she would allow them to see how insignificant their life really was. And then after death deemed more of liberation rather than a punishment.

Some residents of the Outskirts had cleaned up the Marica Bar out that Thursday afternoon. And judging by how their bodies were uselessly thrown into holes without a coffin they were neither cared about nor missed. Needless beings that could easily be replaced, and to know that their bodies would be tossed around like heaps garbage would have been more than one could possibly have bared with.

In the end they wanted death. It wasn't so much as they said it physically, but that their minds screamed it for their bodies were already on the verge of demise. To know that they had abused their mortal vessels in such a way that caused them to be battered around as they had been seemed at first too much for them to bear. Their eyes were filled with pain, aching and pleading. Their shaking hands could barely hold their firearms enough to have even made a single accurate shot to hit the woman.

She was nowhere to be found that day. As night had fallen upon the cool wastelands, there had been a silhouette slowly emerging from the hills towards the desert metropolis. The moon reflected off the shimmering beads of her crimson sunglasses, veiling over her alarmingly golden eyes. Her gloved hands swayed loosely at her sides as she made her way through the nightlife of the city, the bright lights and the cars passing by.

A sickening sight, to watch these ignorant souls go about on their nightly routine without a care, like this is the way things are supposed to be. It wasn't so much that Ravine had ever been bent on changing people--she could really give a damn about what they do. But just watching them and their fruitless antics they call living. Was this how life was supposed to be fulfilled: living to repeat the same things every day and night? To run forever in a mindless circle mindlessly, until their ending day?

There wasn't much to be said on Ravine's part, the one who spent so many years just watching mortals from rooftops and the crowded streets. She found it better to keep her distance from humanity than to live among them, seeing that she was never one who was quick to fit in the crowd. As a matter in fact she was the kind who would have been exile with every endeavor, which was what it was like in the early years when she had tried, at least. Time passed and her reason for wanting to understand humans more came to a slim minimum. Ravine just didn't care anymore. Perhaps she wanted to and deep down inside there's that tiny intuition that still wanted her to heed, although it never reached her in time.

Watching wasn't all that bad anyway.

There had been the ongoing humming of cars rushing by, people talking on their cell phones, walking in and out of clubs and pubs, apartments, brothels, strip bars, and they were all so ignorant to the wandering form whose shadow that followed in her wake had been shifting upon her very feet. A living shade, screaming silently and moving around her as though attempting to grab others and pull them in--yet rarely had that ever happened. A winged monster that always followed her, and yet hidden underneath the feet of those who walked by, over it, not looking down nor up but straight ahead.

The events taken place at the Marica Bar had been close to forgotten as the woman walked down the street, just a cast into the gloom in the midst of a crowd within the vast coloration and hued lights. A scarlet reflection was seen from below where she stood, walking aimlessly through the noisy nightlife of the city also known as the metropolis. What had happened at the Marica Bar probably wouldn't even be discovered until later where those who haven't heard from the poor souls of the Outskirts. Chances are it wouldn't become known until their links had suddenly realized that they weren't getting any recent news from what they wanted, and would then investigate. From thereafter there wasn't a damn thing anyone can do either way, for Ravine had been quite sure that there weren't any cameras in the tavern.

While she continued about her aimless walk, Ravine had come to realize the lacking of human population around the area. Gradually the freaks of the night would retreat back into their quarters; the prostitutes have found their "lays for pays" and the men had found their way into some form of entertainment. In a metropolis there was always something going on, day and night. A fight instigated by some wasted means somewhere, while a one-night stand occurring elsewhere. The humans in these areas were so shallow, that it made Ravine moreover grateful that she wasn't a benevolent being when it came to taking their lives.

She stopped for a moment to look up. While the few people had made their way around her, one had bickered that she had been one of "those" sort of people who just suddenly stop in front of their path like they were the only ones on this planet. For some reason she could have cared about what they thought of her.

Ravine stuffed her gloved hands in the pockets of her long coat and gazed upward into the sky, watching the clouds languidly go by. Unfortunately for those who would have been interested, the stars were not visible due to the city lights (which was often why Ravine wasn't much of a admirer of being in the urban districts.). Her interest towards the bleak heavens had diminished when her ears picked up the signal of yet another yell, a string of words forming into something she could barely understand.

Just then, a sound was heard of a distant cry. Ravine stopped for a moment and looked up. The crowd around her had seemingly gotten smaller, and knowing that they had their own set routs, not one of the nearby citizens had done so much as to stop and investigate where the yell had come from. It sounded like it belonged to a little bit of a man rather than a woman. All around she could hear the trivial conversations of those who had decidedly ignored a victim's distress.

"Did you get the call from...."

"...you heard that murder...?"

"...outskirts...."

"...holding lots of drug busts and...."

"...just run her over next time she...."

"...some weird shit happening there."

Ravine walked on, keeping her hands tightly secured and out of sight as she ambled quickly down the street now, just a mere shadow amongst the crowd. Her curiosity got the best of her when she decided to take swift rout by making a turn into the alleyway, just enough to get herself out of the way before the sudden crowd of people had engulfed her presence. She stopped when she could hear that the sudden sounds had become even more clearly audible.

At first it appeared to have been some sort of verbal argument between old friends or a lover. Ravine took a step up towards the fence that stood between her and another alleyway, which opened itself up to a dead end. She peered through the wooden gate to see nothing more than a few filaments of angry and bantering faces, circling so that she was unable to see clearly. She squinted as she scrutinized the scene.

There had been a group of young men, each between their early to mid-twenties. The one that seemed to have been the estranged individual had been holding a bloodied, long bladed dagger that curved halfway up into two blades, the second one curled its way back. He certainly couldn't have been any older than twenty-three, and it had been him against a setup of four others surrounding him, each wielding a weapon; two of them with bat, one with a pole, and the last one held a short switchblade. The one man took a step away while the other four had encircled around him, while the back of his head had been bleeding. When Ravine got a closer look at the weapons, it appeared as though one of the bats was decked with nails and had been tainted by scarlet stains.

The dagger wielder swayed as his arms dangled loosely at his sides, trying to sustain himself before he bowled over, though without prevail he had been having a hard time keeping himself upright. He sneered at his attackers when he had clearly noted to himself the fairness of this battle, knowing that it wasn't going to last and they weren't going to end this with him alive.

It was like watching nature at its course--survival of the fittest. If the man wasn't strong enough to keep himself alive, then he was not worthy of life. But if he could have triumphed (gods willing if he had.), he would live to eat another day as a free wolf...or with as much freedom as a city dweller of today would be allowed. That's how Ravine lived everyday, and that was how she managed to get through a single day in life without dwelling too much in the past--she just didn't think about it any other way than survival. She would never become much of one for jumping into a battle that wasn't her own and save someone. After all, she wasn't at all the rescuing type, unless if she was given a good purpose in benefit to herself that would allow her to intervene. In this context, the battle was not hers, thus giving her no reason to take a step in for defense of the young stranger.

Observing the outcome, Ravine found herself almost surprised by the ability of the black sheep, as Ravine had found herself calling the dagger wielder. Of course it had been generic in Ravine's mind that dagger users possessed incredible skills in combat, and were able to use them swiftly for one who has been truly trained into their works. She pressed herself closer to the wall, watching him through the openings as the black sheep swiftly managed to evade almost every strike to him. As she scrutinized the players of the brawl, she calculated who would fall and who'd remain the longest. Judging by their hold of their weapons, the movement that they made whenever dodging the black sheep's endeavors, and their physical health state, it was pretty clear.

The first man down had been the one with the cleaner bat. He had been slow and incapable of doing so much as striking directly at the black sheep with a single blow. He was slashed across the throat and became too busy with his own lesion to have bothered to any further extent. Whilst gripping his bleeding neck and looking up at the young man in shock, he would die. Being in hesitation, the wielder of the nailed bat had taken a swing at his head, although the black sheep had been quick to turn around and allow it to meet with his palm. His hostile green eyes glared as he wrenched the bat backwards and threw the tainted blade of his dagger into the base of the man's ribcage with a twist, throwing it out in time to take a step back and being caught by the man with the pole and the switchblade.

Mind that this had all happened within a few short sequences, quite accurate under Ravine's prediction. Already the black sheep had acquired bumps and bruises from the initial fight from the previous bodies surrounding him while they were alive. And this time he seemed like he wouldn't be giving up this without a fight, so a fight he'd given them.

But now he appeared to have run out of luck, for the switchblade had rushed through the air and ran the side of the handle into the black sheep's upper pelvis. He tried to scream but was knocked out cold by a sudden incoming blow to the head, impacted by the pole. His body had instantly collapsed when he'd fell flat onto his face, eyes swollen shut and blood draining from his mouth.

While the other one who held the pole within his grasp kept his triumphant faÁade, the man whom gripped the switchblade kneeled down beside the dead black sheep, running a hand through his copper hair before whispering something into his ear and reached into the man's pocket, drawing out something. At first Ravine had thought that it was money, but this whole ordeal seemed much more personal than a qualm over some pitiful issue such as money. Obviously the black sheep had known these men, and just by surveying such abhorrence upon his face, this had been more than just a little obvious.

Knowing that the other five that were present around him (he had apparently already killed the other three before Ravine had gotten there.) were most certainly dead, Ravine awaited for the other two to leave the scene before she would investigate. It wasn't so much that she cared about what happened here or not, but it had been that her curiosity had gotten the best of her. Immortals have their own needs of doing something, and whilst Ravine had once vowed that she would no longer arbitrate into the lives of mortal beings, she had very few exceptions. Exceptions such as whenever she was jaded.

With a simple bound, she had thrown herself from one side of the seven foot-fence by taking the top. Thrusting herself down onto the ground with two silent pads of her buckled boots upon the concrete, her coat flying and landing back onto her sides, Ravine crouched low. Glancing from the side from the edge of her sunglasses, she made sure that there hadn't been any spectators nearby, or any of the assailants coming to yet. So far the scene was clear, though she knew well that the remnants of the group would come back to retrieve the bodies. Chances are they were bringing back the body bags at the same moment she crouched there, still and contemplative.

There had been a distant sound coming from the black sheep that had Ravine inquisitive. She turned, and as she looked him over, the young man's brows creased, as he lay there with his arms prone to his sides. Her eyes shifted towards the other two and they had not been moving. In fact, they were all stone cold dead, but the black sheep survived through the mere blow to the head.

Carelessly moving over to his body, Ravine rolled the black sheep over from his stomach and onto his side, seeing that the bruise in his lower region wasn't too harsh and the most that he seemed to have obtained was a rutted skull. She looked upon him and tilted her head slightly when she saw a streak of blood running down his cheek and a scar upon his right eyebrow, where a ring had almost done a good job in covering it. Not being the most attractive man that she had ever seen, especially in this sort of condition, Ravine didn't care about waiting off on the black sheep, who would most likely need to endure through some treatment in order to regain his health back once more. She quirked an eyebrow as she saw him slowly rousing, his eyes opening to reveal brilliant green irises, fixing upon Ravine.

Too overcome with pain to have moved or done so much as saying a word, the black sheep continued to look up at Ravine while she turned away from him, hearing the distant sounds of footsteps and thin plastic dragging along in their wake. Ravine saw a pair of shadows conversing in the nearby alleyway entrance, their voices cut down into a hushed murmur so that she could scarcely hear, and neither had she put in the effort to care for listening.

Glancing back to the black sheep, she reached out to him and looked over his condition once more. As she looked in his eyes, his mouth incapable of moving, henceforth was causing his inability to speak. Instead he watched at her in detestation--a hateful gaze, burning with accusation. She knew those kinds of eyes for she had seen them before, many times, at that. And with every time she had been consumed by disappointment, if yet disgust in herself; a wrenching feeling that always devoured her sympathy and ate her emotions alive.

Impassively, she watched him. You are in pain, aren't you?

He closed his eyes, swallowing hard. Of course.

There was a sign of a slight smile then crossing his lips. I live a sickening and miserable life as it is. I've done so many things that I wish I hadn't...what makes you think I'd want to survive another day just to fight another battle? The smile grew. If anything I believe that this is the way I'd like to leave this world, in hopes to find the darkness.

Ravine kneeled down beside him, looking at him with a narrowed gaze behind her crimson shades, as though she were studying him. I wish killing your sins were as easy for you as it is for me. However, before you leave this world I want you to show me something.

Wordlessly, in both her mind and verbal, the black sheep blinked slowly.

At the slight sign of her twitching lips, she managed to reveal a slight smile. Show me your darkness.

For a single moment they stared at each other, Ravine looking upon him with a demeanor which revealed that she had been neither joking nor had been ominous towards him in any way. Although it had been then when the black sheep saw passed the crimson veil to see the golden gaze that laid beneath, staring right at him as though peering through his soul. He stared long into those eyes before he shifted his head in an upward and downward motion, the rims of his lips convulsing.

"...contact Kavar so that we can.... What the hell?"

She did not look up. She did not do so much as flinch as the man reopened his eyes and smiled even more so, watching Ravine with a tiny gleam in his expression as he nodded in agreement, not sending her any words before his hand gripped over the dagger in which he had not allowed to release from his grasp. Ravine sighed as she looked up at the two suited men who stood at the entryway of the hidden alley, looking at her as though she were some sort of casual bystander.

When Ravine rose to her feet she stood a good five foot six inches tall, not much shorter than they were themselves. And while her ethereal gaze had been veiled over by the crimson shades, their assailants had continued to stare at Ravine in incomprehension that such a person could have stumbled upon the scene without them noticing. The only entryway that they could have imagined possible way where they had just arrived.

While her hands gripped tightly, she looks up so that her shades glisten in the moonlight, her golden gaze no longer visible behind the shimmer as she watched in silent amusement that took humor in their perplexity. Whatever reaction they would make, mortals were predictable on so many levels that it almost made them unpredictable--if that ever made any sense. And in this case she knew exactly how they would counter.

"I bet you're disorientated. You stand there you're thinking 'How could she had gotten here?' All the while I pose in contemplation how I would like to tear your throats out." Ravine spoke quietly, her voice bounced off the walls as she watched in amusement when they winced. She had been speaking directed out of what she observed from their faces, their reactions, and movements, moreover, their thoughts. They stared at her, bemused as to how calm she was and decidedly to hold back their assault.

As the entertainment grew and her fists clenched, Ravine shifted her position from where she stood so her shoulders sagged. There could be one other thing, and that would be the fence. However, it's taller than she is and there had been no sound. Judging by the time you took and the distance you were, you would have heard me. She smirked as she finally spoke aloud. "So what's wrong with this?"

She reacted quicker than they had thought when they had brought out their guns from their coats, both men dropping the bags in which they held at their sides and were ready to turn and aim. Ravine had been much faster to act in response than they had been, for when she took a silent step back, they had begun to fire. And as they did so, she dipped low and began running at them with the dominant speed than their shots had been. The woman made a thrust forward and reached out to their wrists, coming up as she arched her back forward to allow the pistols to slip from their grasp with such a feeble hold.

As their guns had fallen and Ravine started to stand, she grabbed one from the air and took a step back from them, swiftly veering the end of it to the taller man's face while she kept a much firmer grip then they had before, a grip which would cost them their upper hand of being armed. While she kicked the other pistol that had been thrown onto the ground away, Ravine kept her sight fixated on the two frozen men who held up their hands and had begun to back away.

"Well, what's wrong with this is that you decided to fuck with the wrong person."

The man who had been at the opposite end of gunpoint had dropped his jaw low enough to make himself look like nothing more than a silly fool. He looked at Ravine, baffled. "This isn't...you can't have...." He then glanced over quickly to the black sheep. "Are you...with...?"

"You get what you give--an unfair fight." Ravine took a further step back towards the black sheep, taking a glance down at him to make sure that he had, truthfully, still been alive and breathing. His eyes were closed, but when the silence pressed on there had been a faint sound of a heartbeat. A slow breath was heard. She held the pistol out a little and looked its condition over, holding its end back once more towards the two culprits.

One would have been foolish as to hold up some sort of negotiation perhaps. A sum of money, a life, whatever would have suited best? But there was nothing they had to offer that Ravine would take, not without the gratification of blowing off their skulls. There had only been four shots left in it, but it had been enough to kill a man with a single blow to the head.

Blood was thrown upon the entryway of the ally wall, and two more useless mortals had been killed that night. Their bodies dropping like the world had been thrown down on them, pressured down by their own hefty weight inflicted by a singular bullet. Just one shot was all it took. Double to kill them both.

Ravine lowered the gun and dropped it down to her side, turning around to see the black sheep upon the floor, still bleeding continuously and unconscious. Had he frankly entrusted his life to be taken into her hands? Most likely not. But he had no other choice, and he was a kindred soul who was also seeking death, even if he was luckier in finding it than Ravine ever would be.

There was a white, convertible La Baron located outside of the alley that had matched the keys to one of the corpses, the one that she had opened and thrown in the resting form of the black sheep so that he may rest away his wounds. His lesions had not been fatal, but it would take a while for them to heal over to the point where he could be able to walk straight again, although Ravine wasn't sure if she'd keep him alive for that long. He was nothing to her--but there were still a few similarities that had attracted her towards his own essence. It was almost intriguing.

~*~

Life is just a decaying Hell, however one decides to live. Most seem to have given up on believing in things anymore. To live one must be dependant on something else, someone else, whatever or whoever that may be. They desire for their dirtied lives to be cleansed of guilt and reality yet this is all they get.

Her thoughts were broken by a faint and distant groan coming from the couch. The black sheep had slowly raised his eyelids to stare upward at the ceiling, blinking before they veered around the dark room. The lights had been turned off but the most he could have made out was the familiar shapes of the walls, making up the lines of what he had to have known it to have been his very own dwelling place.

From what Ravine had explored, it wasn't much of a bad place. The glass windows had a few cracks and holes in them, but the furniture was made of black leather with wool blankets covered over them; all making up a relatively large condo. A few navy rugs thrown across the wooden floor that tapped whenever Ravine pushed her boots over them. It was almost a pleasant sound, knowing that someone was in your place beforehand. She had a few nice places like this, although there had been a few lesser qualities that varied between the two of them--still, it was what had reminded her.

She had stopped her wandering from behind the couch where the black sheep was prone, her arms crossed and now looking down upon him. Her sunglasses were dark so that her golden eyes were close to invisible behind the lens. The way that she kept her sight fixated had caused him to instantly turn away and not baring to look at her.

"Someone like you who gets themselves into as much trouble as you do, and yet you can seemingly afford such a place without qualms." Ravine sounded as though she had been stating the obvious, in which she was. The tone of voice she had taken, her vacuous and silent demeanor. When he tore his face away, Ravine had been deliberate as to throwing a leather book down on him, something that had been the wallet that the men in the alleyway had tried to take. The black sheep flinched, feeling the sudden weight of the book coming down onto his lap without warning. Ravine gave him a brief nod before continuing. "But you did not get the money just by sitting on your ass all day, did you, Ravencrow? Apparently you've been doing some illegal acts yourself."

The black sheep was quick to look up. "How'd--"

She nodded. "You had your name and address in your wallet."

By now the black sheep had known that that had been no lie, neither had he seen her to be much of the lying type. Judging by her stern features and the way she always appeared to not have been jesting with him or anyone for that matter, Alex Ravencrow seemed well aware that one slip of the tongue and he might well have instigate his execution. It had appeared that he was one who was quick to learn at least, or that had been what Ravine had observed thus far.

Alex Ravencrow looked up at Ravine with curiosity. "You spoke through my head."

Ravine nodded.

"Why didn't you let me die?"

By now the stoic demeanor had been replaced with such great disappointment that Ravencrow winced, looking the other way from her so that he didn't have to face such a glare coming from such a being. There had been this aura surrounding her that was a dead giveaway that she wasn't human. Every mortal whose fate was to die by her could feel it, and yet for some reason he still fought the uncertainty that is his lacking of perception. When he looked at her, he had seen the dimness of her shadow, the wings surrounding her and enveloping over the darkness, swathing upon gloom over gloom.

Her eyebrows rose gently as she slowly leaned forward, pulling off her sunglasses. For any normal person they would have been shocked to see a pair of golden eyes staring at them. Though yet seeing that Ravine had once been asked, by some fool of course, if they had been either splicing their genes or it was by trick of the light. Her unfathomable responses were vague and riddled, given the time to figure them out then one would have been able to catch the hint. Most of the time they weren't conscious for long to figure it out.

People like Alex Ravencrow didn't often know Ravine's motive. Ravine found herself not explaining it to anyone, but there had been some things about this young man whose peculiarity had somehow attracted her into mercy. She would have sunk her fingers through his throat, taken away his life with the same compassion she had shown the others, and yet with him she held herself back.

Alex Ravencrow wasn't the first.

A few weeks ago Ravine had recently come across a pair of demonic-kin from Nior, the world where Eden was located, and the place of Ravine's origin. The world where all creation had resided, setting out its energy for life to sustain itself to further extent. Beings from that domain were often difficult to fend off should it had been anything called from the Earth realm. These two outcast demons of the Rue Ezai--"The Lost"--had been tracking down Akiehs and Tehcracs so that they could get their daughter. Ravine had killed the council as well as becoming responsible for the death of the two demon parents, hereafter being the deliverer of the child to the only two people whom she knew she could trust well enough to take a step up in her care.

Orpheus and Kaligar, one of the middle-class members of the Nyne--as some of the present members had come to call them. They were old friends from the Beginning until the End. They had been the only ones that Ravine could count on when it came to taking care of the demon child, they had done it before after all, and it wasn't like they weren't willing to take her. As a matter in fact, when Ravine had implicated it, it had been them who had full out stated that there was no need, they'd take the girl.

They think Ravine's changed from how much she had been from back then to now. Two hundred years had passed since the Death Child Prophecy had been triggered, and it's been following Ravine wherever she went. There had been no escaping her "providence," as Terra had called it.

Alex Ravencrow looked at Ravine quizzically. "Hello?"

"Hm?"

"I asked you a question." He looked at her disconcertingly. Ravine's golden eyes turned back to him, strange eyes that had usually been shrouded over by crimson shades once more, and now...such a peculiar color for any mortal to have believe, and here Ravine stood, modest and sincere to her fate. "Why didn't you let me die if you already planned to have me killed?"

Ravine's gaze narrowed as she leaned against the sofa, turning her back to Ravencrow as she looked down, tucking her sunglasses into the pocket of her coat. "I have my reasons. I want to see how far you are willing to follow me."

With a sigh Ravencrow leaned back against the couch and crossed his arms, taking a single glance to Ravine before turning away slightly. "Willing to follow you to where? Is this some sort of trip? And when it ends, will you kill me?"

Bluntly, Ravine nodded. "To put it lightly."

"Then I will be looking forward to the day you kill me."

Ravine blinked, although it hadn't been in an obtuse way. In truth, as Ravine had seen it as well as Ravencrow, she was testing him. He knew well that this would be his final test before she brought his life to an end, taking it away so that he may die with at least some dignity, the kind that would have been deprived from him if Ravine hadn't intervened with his fate of death. But Ravine was death, and she was darkness all the same.

Now was the time to see how far Ravencrow was willing to follow Ravine into the darkness.