It had been Ravencrow who had noticed the laser.

And it had been just then that he realized that, in spite of everything that had happened within that single day, he hadn't even known the name of the woman who had "saved" him. But there had been no need to cry out a warning to her, for the woman had already turned so that the laser was pointed at the gullet, her golden eyes narrowed as she tilted her head slightly and looked up.

There was a silhouette from the rooftop of one of the distant structures, kneeled over the ledge of the building with a sniper rifle, the quivering scope now shifting upwards towards her forehead. Ravencrow watches, stunned and believing that this would have been the last he would see of her again, but he was wrong when he heard a distant crack. He turned and saw that from on top of the building the silhouette had dropped, and the rifle fell five hundred feet from the air and to the street, where there had been a scream.

Casually, the woman turned back to Ravencrow as though demanding for him to follow her. As a matter in fact, it was a glare that had somehow forced him to open the door and move as though his feet were possessed, so that he could make his way towards her like an obedient animal.

In a way that's what he was to her--nothing more than a pet. That had to have been the reason why she saved him; so that she could have someone to beat around and take advantage of, and she had been doing a damned good job on making a fool of him, because with every step he took the woman seemed to have been pulling some sort of string that forced him to stagger forward towards her.

From behind him there was the flashing sound of the officers who had already been called or was attracted by the screaming that came from the street and started to investigate, where they would find a man from the top edifice with peculiar garments and a seemingly unexplained death. Ravencrow could hear them from the distance although their voices were blurred by their expanse. The woman didn't even do so much as question or take another look towards that direction, before she stuffed her hands into the pockets of her long coat and pushed the door to the shop ajar. The manner of the situation seemed as though she had been beckoning him to follow her. And that was what he'd done.

The walls had been paved with all sorts of ammunition, rifles, handguns, grenades and their launchers, pistols, and not just firearms were displayed, but blades as well. From between gutting knives and daggers to rapiers and long swords, claymores, katanas, enough to have been any sort of a fighter's dream. However it hadn't been something that Ravencrow hadn't seen, seeing that he'd been in this store once before, and knowing that she had asked him before and he hadn't even told her afterwards, the woman probably found out where it was by extracting the directions from his head somehow.

He had heard of that kind of thing before during his studies, for a brief while he'd taken an interest in telepathy and paranormal behaviors in the past, things that had something to do with extrasensory perception. Although he hadn't gone so far into it as to checking if they had solid evidence of its certain existence, standing before him was living proof of everything that he'd been searching for, or what researchers would have killed to have gotten their hands on.

So far he'd perceived certain abilities such as her being able to see through his thoughts, and he didn't like that one bit. Chances are she knew he didn't like, which was probably the reason why she kept irking him by persisting to create this feeling like a string was coming out of his forehead. It was a nauseating feeling that made him feel dizzy, and when he stood and looked around the shop the walls had started to pound inward and outward forcefully.

Massaging his temple gently, Ravencrow sighed and made his way around the room, taking up the hilt of one of the daggers that had some remote resemblance to the ones he had that were concealed underneath his jacket. He tweaked the position his hat when he looked down at the blade to see the woman in the reflection, speaking to the clerk behind the desk. Their voices weren't audible from their distance although it had been quite clear that she was searching for something in the sword section. Since she claims she doesn't have much luck with firearms he assumed that she'd be best in the mêlée department anyway.

He lifted the dagger up a little higher to see the claymore settled up against the wall, where the woman had her gaze fixated upon. The man asked her if that had been what she wanted but she requested that she just take a look at it. He nodded, seeing that she was clearly above the age where she would be able to handle it without consent, then kicked over the stool so that he could lean up and take it into his hand. For the first moment Ravencrow winced, seeing that the woman wasn't all that much of one to have been predictable and know what she was to do next. His initial thought had been directed towards her intention of lopping off his head, judging by the manner she swung the sword in, even the clerk had taken a step back in order to evade her swing.

But she hadn't done anything other than holding it up and staring upward at the blade, the designs engraved into the silver blade making it look almost Celtic. An impressive creation, although when her eyes fell upon it she had shown no sign of daunt. As a matter in fact, she looked more bored over it than excited in any way.

With a small sigh she flung the blade in the air, folding the blade out flat upon her palm and handed it back to the clerk, hilt first. She said that she knew someone who had a sword like that, but his was much larger for his size and it was capable of much more damage. Appalled, the clerk looked back to her as though she had just insulted him (needless to say she most likely did.), before snapping his bearded mouth shut and quickly turning around to set the claymore back up on the shelf.

"So this person you knew...what kind of collection does he have?"

"None. It's hard to collect when you're dead." She spoke it in such a casual manner that it almost sounded like a joke. The clerk appeared as though he were to laugh when he'd been thinking that way, but he then perceived the sincerity of this woman and snapped his mouth shut once more. The woman shook her head a little before turning her gaze over to the twin katanas on the wall, not taking her eyes off it. She nodded towards it and the clerk seemed to had picked up on her implication.

Pointing to where her eyes had taken his own, the clerk looked up. "You wish to take a look at one of those?" When he received her nod, he took the stool and propped himself upright, reaching to the hilt and bringing the katana down to hand it to the woman. She took it into her grasp and had done the same, although this time the clerk had gotten the preliminary hint to take a step away after he'd handed it to her. Tilting his head curiously, he watched her interest in the weapon. "It's one of our antique swords, about a couple years old for that matter. But the blade is well kept after all these years. A good polish and it should be as good as the day it was created. A strong blade, too. Pure and solid alloy."

Asides from the fact that the blade really did look rather rusty, a few bronze splotches here and there that could easily be removed by a simple buffing. The hilt was wooden covered by a blue silk cloth that made the grip look much more comfortable. At the end of the hilt embedded an emblem of a dragon curling around a panther, both looking at the viewer with a ferocious façade. The ring separating between the hilt and the blade was a circular metal piece, consisting that of a serpent wrapping around it with its tail curled downward towards the handle. The scabbard was black with the navy silk cloth wrapping around it and stopping at the middle, a couple strings of it open and a belt buckle that would have been used for her to strap it to her pants should she choose to wander freely, armed with a sword like so.

Once more she gave it a swing with her left hand, an accurate strike that would have been enough to hack off a limb, and it had been then when the woman gave the clerk a sincere nod before accepting that she would take it. With a broad smile the clerk clasped his hands together before returning to the register where the woman slipped out her wad of money and handed him the amount he asked for. Considering that it had already been previously damaged, the price had been bumped down to a low five hundred dollars.

Paying the fee, the woman lifted up the sword by the scabbard and turned to Ravencrow, giving him another nod before turning to walk out the door after being waved farewell by the clerk, who had clearly not recognized one of his regular customers who had accompanied the woman. He pulled his hat over his face as he walked by; trying to keep it that way before the clerk stared for a moment, watching as Ravencrow walked passed him sheepishly.

His eyes narrowed from behind his specs. "...Alex?"

Jolting with surprise, Ravencrow quickly turned to the clerk, whilst the woman instantly came to a halt at the doorway. She tucked the katana underneath her arm as she glanced between the two of them with more of a knowing than a curious look. He hated that look. It was like she had foreseen this coming, that she had already predicted that it would happen--yet considering by what he'd already witnessed from her nature she probably already had.

Straightening up tightly, Ravencrow replied quickly. "Yes?"

The clerk smiled brightly. The smile that he could recognize to have belonged to none other than Kali Honimuré. "How've you been, Alex? Haven't seen you around these parts for quite some time." He looked over Ravencrow's scrawny little form with concern. "By gods, you've lost so much weight. What have you been doing lately?"

"Stupid things...." Ravencrow murmured beneath his breath, inaudible to Honimuré's ears just before he spoke to him directly this time. "Nothing much. I've been around, thought that I should come around here with a--er--friend of mine." He gestured to the woman standing at the doorway.

Honimuré nodded slowly then turned to the woman with a tiny inquisitiveness that was most likely inquiring how Alex Ravencrow had managed to get himself mixed up with someone like her. Still, knowing the man's disposition he most likely wouldn't say a thing about it and hold his tongue, which was a wise choice for him to have taken. "I see.... What's her name?"

Ravencrow's mouth fell open for a moment, before the woman had cut in from his speech and spoke before he could. "Ravine." So simple and modest, and yet when he turned to look at her he could see that the name was suitable for someone like her. Ravine, a chasm, the endless rift, an abyss. He nodded, finding that the moniker was much more suitable for someone like her more than anyone else, and if it had belonged to someone less suitable Ravencrow most likely would have snorted. But Ravine was most certainly not a woman satirize.

"I see. Interesting name." Honimuré stared at Ravine for a moment, fixated upon her alienated features for some reason. "You're not from around here, are you?"

"No." Yet another simple and modest response.

By now Honimuré seemed to have picked up on the realization that he wasn't going to be getting much of a conversation from this woman named Ravine, so he turned back to Alex Ravencrow and sighed. "I see you have a very interesting choice of friends, Alex. You never seemed to have had any before that, and you never did bring any in here before."

Chuckling sheepishly Ravencrow jerked his thumb over to Ravine discreetly. "She wanted to come here on her own. And she's not exactly my friend, Kal."

Gaining the wrong kind of impression obviously, Honimuré gave him a slow nod and a quirk of the brow, looking between Ravencrow and Ravine bemusedly as though comparing one or the other. "Okay, so I see you've finally have a--" He stopped suddenly when the door swung open and Ravine had walked out. Honimuré vacantly blinked before looking back to Ravencrow. "She doesn't seem too happy. What, keep her on a short leash or something?"

"No leashes." Ravencrow tried his hardest to smile, yet without avail.

Noticing Ravencrow's coy; he smiled and gave him a nod. "It's all right. I understand."

Suddenly the door opened once again, and Ravine poked her head in, glancing between Honimuré and Ravencrow before speaking to the clerk. "By the way, I'd check up on your sister if I were you. The one who lives in Deloris." She then turned to Ravencrow and then turned and left before Honimuré could have said anything as to what she'd meant by that.

Once more Ravencrow found himself chuckling nervously when he turned back to the bemused Honimuré, scratching the back of his head. "Uh, well, I guess you haven't spoken to Seri in a while, so I guess it would be good. Yeah, I mentioned you once before, that's how she knows."

"She knows Seri?"

"She knows of her."

Wary still, Honimuré decided to let him off on this one. "Well, it looks like you both are heading somewhere, so I'll let you go." He replaced his suspicious expression with a smile. "Feel free to come around at any other time. It's always good to see you in good health."

Scratching the back of his head, Ravencrow smiled and nodded. "Will do." He then turned and opened the door, finding Ravine standing off at the side of the entryway, her arms crossed and her back pressed up against the wall. When Ravencrow had taken a glimpse to her, surveying her expression and trying to figure out what might be going on in her head like what she'd done with him, his mind had drawn a blank. There was no possible way for him to make out anything of this woman, and perhaps she'd known that. And that could be the reason why she'd done it.

Ravine probably knew more about Ravencrow then he knew about himself. He took a step back when the woman stood up, towering over him. Now her height had been another thing that had troubled him. Of course there was a lot of women who were taller than him--Ravencrow wasn't that tall of a man. But the fact that when this woman towered over him like that, he felt so much more shorter and smaller than he had with anyone else, like she could easily bring her fingers down and crush him like an insect. Most likely she could do that too, and Ravencrow was nothing more to Ravine than a tiny beetle in her hair, easily combed out by her fingers and tossed into the trash. He was so small compared to her, not just by height but by spirit and psyche; the way she looked at him made him feel that way altogether. It was disconcerting.

He felt like cowering away, cringing underneath a bed and never coming out until the threat had passed by, to cover his head over with a pillow and shudder freely without fearing of being seen. But he knew well that if he'd shown any fear that he would reveal his weakness.

Ravine's eyes narrowed as she turned, walking towards the La Baron so that her back was now turned to him. "He was one of your teachers." Once more she was being so modest, and yet straight to the point, or at least the only point that needed to be made. Her voice was nothing more than a monotone, like the whistling wind that wished to pick up a beat and yet done so without avail, only to allow itself to die within tune.

Quickly Ravencrow's gaze followed her as she opened the passenger's seat, walking around the car to move inside on her own side of the car after gently tossing the katana upon the back seat. Passively he shrugged and made his way through the door, sitting down beside her with a sigh. "Did you already know he was going to be in there?"

She nodded, not looking at him. "I did."

"And is that why you wanted me to come inside?"

"One of the reasons."

"So what was up with that one guy who tried to kill you?"

Initially she hadn't answered. She just leaned forward and turned the car on. "You aren't the only one who's a target for something." Just then the radio turned on and she started driving off down the street, picking up the pace of the car. They passed the motel. "It isn't going to be prudent hanging around here in this city, so we'll find someplace else."

What didn't feel safe was him traveling around with someone like her--a woman who hadn't even told him her name at first. But then again he hadn't even bothered to ask, so he wasn't willing to hold that against her either. As a matter in fact he wasn't even willing to go through much of an consideration of her, seeing that he didn't know much enough to get him anywhere passed assumptions. So much that he knew, she was a convict who was planning to use him as a human shield in the future and that was why she salvaged him from demise. When he looked her over he realized that she really did look like the convict type, too.

No, that couldn't have been it. There was something about her that didn't shout that out, either, neither was he in the mood to write "convict" on her demeanor just yet. Accusations weren't always the best way to go, especially with someone who was telepathic and could crush one's skull at any given moment should she desire to do so--

"You believe I would take you this far just to kill you?" Ravine spoke, still not looking at him.

He had then realized that they had been traveling for quite some time, almost reentering the desert once more if it hadn't been for the remaining suburban development still. Ravencrow turned and watched as the children had started to go back into their homes, concealing themselves behind shaded fences and looking at them as though they had seen a ghost. As a matter in fact, every eye that had fallen upon their car the faces stopped to look, watching Ravine. Ravencrow glanced over to her, though he saw that she wasn't doing anything in particular.

They just watched her.

"Told you it wasn't safe here."

Ravencrow quickly veered his gaze back to her after watching the citizens keep their focus on their car. His brows furrowed curiously as he glanced between the watchers and then Ravine. "What?"

"There are terrorists in this city."

Once more he blinked dumbly, turning to look out the window. "Where?"

Ravine's glanced at him through the corner of her eye, then looked ahead, driving onward at a faster pace now. "You expect that they'd roam around freely like so? They've been hiding in the buildings. Snipers, terrorists, whatever. But they have plans for this city and that doesn't make it safe for you to be here."

Safe for you to be here was the words that stuck to his mind like tape. If it wasn't safe for him to be there than neither was it for her, correct? Hell, he wasn't willing to try and understand now. He probably would never know. It would have been foolish of him to try and figure out anyone of the female sex, and due to his past affiliations he wasn't as good at keeping someone than he was with chasing them off. Ravencrow could remember the last woman that he had placed himself before and she had abandoned him at the doorstep of despair. However, it had been his own fault to have done such stupid things that he had managed to accomplish back then, so there wasn't much to blame on her part.

On some contexts, he'd have to say that she was much smarter than the others were. And that was when Ravencrow had sworn off relationships with the assumption that he didn't want to get anyone else hurt just by them being around him. He knew now that he attracted too much attention from the wrong sort of people in order for him to endanger anyone else for being around him.

For about a year and a half, Ravencrow had been alone. Chances are this Ravine had known that and was trying something on him. Something just wasn't right about her, and it wasn't just the stares or the snipe laser, the one who had dropped the gun and fell without being touched. Of course knowing her she probably had more than just one talent, she just seemed like the kind who could be capable of so much more than just looking through a person and knowing their intentions and their thoughts. It was disconcerting.

What was even more disconcerting was that whenever Ravencrow tried to open his mouth to speak, to say something to her that was related to the topic, his mind would quickly draw a straight line blank and he'd be wordless. It wasn't so much that he didn't know what to say, he just was never much of one for words; in the past he always managed to say something stupid or offensive that'd ended with him getting beaten for it. Not so much because he was careless with his words enough as it was, but he just hadn't cared. That was one flaw that Ravencrow always found himself dwelling upon, his lack of caring about anything that brought his passion to live down to a bare minimum of just living to die. It appeared that death was no longer in his control or anyone else's anymore.

The state borderline was up ahead. And all Ravine had to do was pay the fee and make her way across with a mild inspection. For some reason the guard looked at Ravencrow twice before they allowed the two of them to pass through without a care. Of course they were suspicious about the katana in the back seat, yet the woman just showed them her wallet, and they allowed them to resume in their silence within their enclosed space that allowed no conversation to dwell. Strangely enough as it was, Ravencrow didn't feel like asking about why she bought the katana much either. That was the thing about Ravine, nobody really seemed to bother asking about her because they knew that they weren't going to get a strange answer. Maybe it was the vacant look in her eyes that told them that she didn't care about their lives, or perhaps it was the cold touch on her wan skin that felt like ice. She looked so fragile and yet capable of turning around and ending a life at the simple blink of an eye. Ravine seemed capable of that and so much more that he hadn't really been much in the mood to put an effort into figuring out.

She was an enigma, a fragment between life and death all in itself. She was like a phantom that wandered about the midst if the between, who reaped life and took advantage of death whenever she could. As a matter in fact she held advantage in the palm of her hand, and when she wanted to take it all she had to do was enclose her fingers around it and crush it beneath her callous will.

That was the feeling he got whenever Ravine was around. That was what he felt Ravine's purpose was. All he had to do was hope that she knew whether if his time was near or not, because if anything he would never wish to have his life to end by any other creature than something that was as majestic as this Ravine was, the aura she emitted and the chill she sent down his spine. That wasn't as disconcerting as he had thought it was at first now that he considered it--moreover it was intriguing, and yet there was something else about her, a sense of distance behind those golden eyes that looked down upon humans like insects. She wasn't human; he'd learned that. What she was Ravencrow didn't know, but there was something about her in that context that made her more of a respectable creature.

He shifted his gaze to stare outside the window, watching the desert pass by and the dry grasslands dance with the winds gently and compose into a gentle waltz. There was something about the way the wind moves that always made him so captivated him, drew him in towards some sort of magnetic field that was like a string pulling at his neck. He had no idea why the wind was the way it was, why it couldn't be seen yet one could feel it brush up against their skin. As a child he once closed his eyes and imagined the wind, how it would look like, and pictured it as a dancing blue mist, companions of the earth and children of the heavens. Back then Ravencrow was such the dreamer, or that was what so many people had accused him of.

The dreams of the world today wasn't all as admirable as those of yesterday--two hundred years ago--had; the ones who had once dreamt today to have been. Then again he'd seen the ancient movies and watched what most people's ideas of the future were: that everyone drove flying cars and rode airborne machines such as "hoverboards." They all owned million dollar houses that talked to them, and robots that did just about everything for everyone--of course sex wasn't even really provided by those machine unless if it was some sort of pornographic genre that suited this better. Just about the only thing that one could do on their own was pick their nose and take a shit, and even then they probably had some sort of machine that would wipe their ass for them. Such a trivial and unrealistic dream of today from the excerpts of yesterday.

A sudden halt had woken Ravencrow up from his dreaming stupor when he realized that him and Ravine were now parked in the lot of an outlet motel. It was situated in the middle of nowhere with a blinking neon red light saying some sort of name that he couldn't read, the text was too curvy and whenever he tried it would blink furiously, which something had told him that it wasn't supposed to be like that. There were no other cars in the lot telling him that this place was obviously not visited much, so they shouldn't have much problems booking themselves a room.

He tilted his head a little, eyes narrowing slightly when he turned to Ravine and quirked a brow. Bizarrely she was just staring out the window as though watching for something, like she saw something there that he hadn't. Paying no heed to this however, Ravencrow cleared his throat before he spoke. "So this is where we'll be staying, I take it?"

She reached into her pocket and pulled out her wallet once more, flipping it open and searching through its contents before she passively nodded. "Not exactly a luxury hotel, but it's just for the night and there's nowhere else around. We should be able to get a good television reception here, too."

Ravencrow looked at her sharply before he said quickly. "I don't watch TV."

"For tonight I think it's best that you make an exception." There sounded like there was some sort of hidden meaning in that that Ravencrow couldn't quite pull out, and when he'd tried all that came out was static. What was there on television that made her think that he should make any sort of exception? What made her think that he's make any sort of exception for her, anyway?

There could have been one sort of thing that she was setting him up for that came into mind. What if she really was some sort of an ex-convict or something and she wanted him to watch the wanted channel just to see if she was up on their list. It would have been a perfect setting, too. Ravine pops up on the screen, charged for however many assaults and murders, maybe even armed robbery too, and perhaps possession of weapon...no, she had to have had a license of the sort if she was able to get this far. But that was when she appears from behind just as they announce the amount the reward held for capture, and just when Ravencrow thinks about escaping, she comes up from behind and stabs the holy hell out of him. As a matter in fact it made perfect sense. Why else would she had brought the katana?

And those gloves of hers. Of course, they would be perfect if she didn't want any fingerprints from appearing on the hilt.

Just then Ravine had a rather amused look on her vacant face, looking at him with a quirked brow before she took a step out of the car and looked up at the motel. As she adjusted the position of her sunglasses by throwing them from her eyes and laying them in her pockets, she walked ahead to the office while she left Ravencrow alone in the car.

This would be the perfect chance for him to make a quick getaway, only if it hadn't been for the fact that he was standing in the middle of nowhere, miles upon miles from the next metropolis, and he couldn't drive off because Ravine had taken the extra keys with her, too. He sighed and leaned back. In a way he didn't want to leave, because there was something about Ravine that forced him to stay. Maybe it was her enigmatic demeanor, or just that he felt that she was the only one who could actually protect him? Oh yes a predator going to protect the protected she's going to do a dandy job doing that shit. Or maybe it was just the way she had this ability to attract people towards that so said enigma that made him remain sitting. It felt like some sort of spell that kept him there, too. A magnetic force that enabled him to stay.

And yet in another way there had just been this feeling down inside that said that she wasn't one to keep her words behind her teeth, because when she said that she would kill him he believed her, yet there was that feeling of carelessness that made him not fret much over it. Somehow he wanted none other than her to take his life in the end. Strange, was that not? To know that your death is near and your reaper is standing next to you, knowing you like a book, and yet you do not care?

With a sigh Ravencrow sat back and stared at the closed roof of the convertible, blinking at the black canvas while he cleared his mind of all thoughts that had troubled him. And just as he'd gotten to the point where he had nearly accomplished such, the door opened and Ravine poked her head in, nearly making him scream with alarm. "You're going to be in room four; I'll be in nine." She spoke in her usually monotone that drove Ravencrow insane. She then reached over to him and handed him the key to his room. He looked down on his curiously, looking at the tiny little designs that these old motel companies used to make in the old days. One doesn't come across many like this motel nowadays. He then looked up at Ravine when there was a slight hint that he picked up that told him she was going to speak further. "Do you have anything you are going to bring in with you?"

Almost instantaneously he shook his head, fumbling for the door and almost falling out backwards as he leaned against the entrance a little further, but quickly crouched onto his feet before he stood up straight to brush himself off from contacting the ground. Swiftly he turned back up to her and puffed himself up a little with a prideful look on his face, trying to show that he really didn't fear her, but in reality...he was terrified. When he gets to his room he plans to lock all forms of opened doors right away and make sure the windows were tightly shut, then she wouldn't be able to make her way in to murder him. Ha. Take that.

For another moment Ravine did nothing else but just stare at Ravencrow perplexedly (and that had almost reached to the point of annoying--he wasn't much of one who appreciates being stared at.), watching him with her rather blank expression that forced her brow to raise farther upward with a little more effort before she shook her head and turned her back to him, making her way to her room whilst Ravencrow went to his.

While Ravine disappeared behind her door Ravencrow was open to his new sleeping quarters, standing before a rather casually plain room that consisted of a television set, a bathroom in the back which he had yet to investigate, a coffee machine upon the counter next to the television, a dinner board next to the window consisting of three wood chairs around it with newspapers scattered about the tabletop, and in front of the television set was one large bed. He stared at the bed for a while, sighing fondly as he walked over to the end of it and sprawled himself across the sheets, throwing his face into the soft, white pillow. He felt that even if he screamed he wouldn't be heard other than a muffled moan.

As he rolled over to gaze up at the ceiling, his arms and legs sprawled out of his sides, Ravencrow could remember being in a bed like this before. That was the before when he didn't take any sort of hazardous hallucinogens that caused him to go downhill, but this was a peaceful feeling and the bed was nice and soft whenever he made so much as a sudden movement. He closed his eyes and recalled that the first time he ever made love was in this kind of bed, and just the simple thought of that made him smile. He didn't know how long it'd ever been since he ever held a woman, seeing that the hallucinogens had caused his memory to become somewhat pieced by mere scattered fragments here and there, but it was within those fragments that he watched like a home video. No, it was better than a home video, because he felt that in his head he could relive it whenever he wanted to, and suited his fancy.

He was tired. More tired now than he ever felt could possible. And when he felt he needed to drift off to sleep his consciousness had prevented him from doing so, so after a while when he realized that he wasn't to sleep, he groped for the remote next to the bed stand and pulled it towards him, lazily turning on the television before him as he licked his lips tiredly and yawned. He then rolled onto his feet and walked into the bathroom, which was so unadorned it wasn't much to blather upon. Ravencrow just sighed as he looked upon his surroundings with a genuine fondness that he didn't normally feel very often before, and it was comfort in a way. Seeing something so...ordinary made him feel more at peace and at home than ever.

There was a normal toilet with the paper at the side, the sink made of a deep amber marble, the bathtub with the casual toiletries displayed on the side for one in case if they'd forgotten their own set of shampoo and conditioner. As he listened to the distant rambling of the reporter on the television, Ravencrow went over to investigate the shower, taking up the shampoo before he turned on the shower and sighed peacefully for a moment.

He stood there for a moment in nothing else but a overwhelming silence, staring down at the bottle and watching his eyes shift the words into blurs and reformation of several images that subconsciously met with his vulnerable mind. A normal image fit for a normal item, such a nonchalant piece of what had once been consisting of his life. Ravencrow had, day by day, been forced to wash out his hair continuously so that he could always be clean for the next day, but recently he hadn't had the time nor the effort to do so much as to take a simple shower. This time, however, would be different.

Or at least he was sure of it.

So he made a swift movement and made to turn on the handle, glancing over his shoulder to make sure that there was nobody standing at the door or something. For a single moment he could have sworn that he saw a pair of yellow eyes staring at him from behind the glass window, but it was just a single blink before it vanished from sight. Within that moment he could have sworn that he saw something move, but it might've been just his eyes tricking him, had to have been.

Ravencrow took a quick shower. Nothing much, seeing that he couldn't bear going through a full elongated one what with the ache in his chest that tightened and forced him to swallow. He wasn't entirely sure what to think of right now, just that there had been an instant when he closed his eyes that he felt, in some sort of strange way, normal. Not like there wasn't anything irregular about his life now, but it was just that most people don't live a life where they are running for their lives. Okay, maybe a few, but not everyone, he was most sure of that one.

He sighed and hunched over himself a little bit, wrapping his arms around himself as he allowed the water to drain down his self, closing his green eyes for a moment as he felt his knees buckle and permitted him to slip and fall backwards onto his back, his head hitting against the edge of the bathtub. The only thing he could manage was a quick yelp as blood drained and mixed between the waters of the shower, flowing down the drain as more flowed through the open abrasion in his skull.

When he reopened his eyes the world had burst into a mass stream of multicolor swirls from the overhead light that felt like he was drowning in a pool. He took a moment to regain himself once more for a moment, blinking while the water slapped his face to try and force him to regain himself once more. His face muscles twitched with every contact, tilting his head sideways a little to look out from the bathtub. There was the distant sound of a scream, but it wasn't from outside, it sounded like something coming from the television. Ravencrow blinked, sitting upright to tend to his bleeding skull when he turned to hear the distant sound of crying and a mass crowd of people screaming.

"...attack. Reports suspect it involves terrorist...." He didn't catch what he said in between that. "...city of Karma...." Yet another muffled sound from between the pounding in his head and the shower's waters beating against him and the ground. Slowly Ravencrow made his way to turn the shower off when he stood onto his feet, then stopped in silence to listen to the report. "...stream of mass death near Deloris. South central of Karma where thousands of citizens lost their lives tonight, while the head snipes from what is suspected to be upon a high view are shooting down the survivors of the blast. No one knows yet why they are doing his, although Karma is known to have quite a few delinquent tribulations with illegal drug and alcohol dealers. Citizens are Karma are told to stay in their homes and not try to leave the city until the situation has been handled by the local law enforcement. Other agencies are getting involved as we speak to try and decipher the hints left behind by the snipers and terrorists. Kyle, back to you."

His eyes narrowed when he recalled the city. Karma. Where they were previously at. Where his friend Kali Honimuré was at. Quickly he dashed out of the shower, throwing his pants on and rushing into the living room to see the report of the most recent attack that they had had this month.

This was becoming redundant.

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