[center][h2][B]Falair Ver Akan Sa'eyeis[/B]
[I][b]The Madhatter[/b][/I][/h2][h3][i]Kenan - Midtown - An Outlaw Bunker
Midday[/i][/h3]
[i][Sub][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UNjC6Ruf6tU&list=WL&index=18]Theme[/url][/Sub][/i][/center][hr]

[I]Hunt-ing time~[/I] the hatter's eyes said, gleaming white in a random corner of Kenan. He had extricated himself again, but this time, he was hungry. As a human passed through the alleyway and its delectable foot made contact with the shadow of one of its walls, the human found itself shredded and pulled into the blackness.

There'd not even been a scream. [i]Omnom nomom,[/i] Falair sung in his head, his eyes bobbing back and forth in the darkness. Then something wonderful happened, a small gang of humans, angels, and demons strutted into the alley.

From what he could tell they were heading to a gathering, and with this their fates were sealed. [i]Oh this will be such fun,[/i] he thought, talking to himself inside his pretty little head, [i]perhaps today I'll earn some friends, what do you think?[/i]

In the black scape of Falair's mind a clown face turned towards another, one that was no clown at all, but instead had closed eyes and a fairly apathetic demeanor about it. There was no response, [i]you're no fun, lordling![/i]

His attention turned again to his hunters prey, whom he had now become the shadows of. A light joyful feeling would begin to ever so gradually enter them, both mind and body.

Each step would end in a light jaunt of elation and soon enough, drunk on the feeling, they all broke into a sprint and swiftly arrived at their little bunker. [i]Ohh this was so fantastic![/i]

"Daenin, who're these punks?" A large man asked one of the fellows at the front, an angel--surprisingly.

"New recruits a' course. 'Cha think I'd bring here, a bunch of stray dogs? Fuckin' idiot," he motioned to his posse and they pushed past the bouncer and down the stairs leading to the basement of the building. [i]Tin tin, drink them in, la la, turn them off,[/i] the hatter began to sing, the sound slowly entering the minds of the posse. They all began to hum only a minute afterwards. [i]Trai trai, cut out their eye, Sen sen, behead them,[/i] none of them seemed to notice the lyrics they were singing.

The basement was fairly well lit and as they entered a cacophony of voices drowned out the quiet singing of the group that the Nightwalker had come in with.

His shadow began to spread.

Suddenly the place quieted down as a microphone of some sort was tapped and the screen at the far end of the room, one that filled up the entire wall, suddenly flashed white, then red and blue. Everyone turned to face the monitor, which then displayed a hollow circle, with two black eyes and a snake for a tongue curling outwards and over the circle's edge, where it then twirled up and around what looked to be a tattered wing. On the other side there was a horn. [U][I]"Drel drel, yer goin ta hell~"[/I][/U] Falair whisper-sang as another voice reached out through the crowd, addressing them all.

He even felt several of his own kind in the room. Nightwalkers and Shades and Sullicitus. He licked his lips, for by now his body had formed, having donned a wonderfully colorful top hat, a monocle on one eye, and a chain made from bones extracted from various beings--animals, demons, humans, and angels all included. He wore a purple vest and a multicolored tie whose primary colors were orange and green. His pants were plaid of blue and black, and his shoes were those worn by medieval jesters.

He felt quite snazzy.

[b][i]"You have been gathered here today, be you recruit or veteran of the Chaeris group, so that you can be initiated and informed of our next great goal. All whom leave today will depart not as individuals, but each as a representative of our noteworthy organization. Equipped with the full extent of your brother's and sister's might, and watched over by the great Char. You will go out to ready yourselves. However, if you leave now, there will be nothing for you."[/i][/b] A dead silence fell as the voice's echo faded out.

Falair tilted his head, an intrigued look in his youthful white eyes. [i][u]"What a delightful little gathering,"[/u][/i] Falair whispered to a human that stood just astride from him. The boy was barely seventeen, he'd wager, and took little notice of him, motioning for him to shut up, an annoyed look on his face. Falair's mouth opened wide in a form of shock, his eyes opened wide before the narrowed, his pupils vanishing completes and the whites of his eyes going pitch black. [i][u]"Now now,"[/u][/i] his voice fluctuated from its typical height, to a lower pitch, gradually switching between them, though it began to settle upon the lower--more serious--tone. The human actually looked at this time, and upon doing so gasped before his neck was promptly crushed by Falair's hand. The human's body vanished completely and as others looked to see what the noise had been, there was nothing there to witness.

No blood, no human boy, no Falair.

Their attention turned back to the screen, which flashed again to gain their attention, beginning to display various graphics of what their plans would be, but Falair could not be bothered.

The Lordling was hungry.

Too hungry.

[i][b]"We will start with the lower district of Kenan, the slums as many of you call them. We will start at the edges and create a quarantine,"[/b][/i] the announcer continued, but the Madhatter couldn't hear him anymore, the only sounds he could hear were his own singing and the beating of hundreds of hearts, all in the same room. [i]Shrill, shrill, time to spill, Bloood bloood, it must floood. Frail frail, their bodies pale.[/i] Everyone in the room began to frown and turn about here and there every few moments, as if there was something they were straining to hear.

The announcer suddenly stopped, his sentence cutting off. [i][u]"Lime, prime, time, dine."[/u][/i] Another voice replaced the announcer and the screen gradually changed, blood dripping from the top and downwards across it. The insignia changed first to a clown, then to a tophatted man. The tension in the room was palpable, it could've been cut with a knife, and people were beginning to push towards the exit despite the likelihood that leaving early would likely get them killed.

[i][u]"Sorted heads and arms are done. Bowels bloody, eyes soaked, fun!"[/u][/i] Various people in the crowd began to sing along, their neighbors turning to them in confusion and horror. Upon the singers' faces was plastered a look of manic happiness, as if all of them had been possessed by some insane doll demon. Their skin had paled, all color leaving them, and their eyes were rolled up in their heads. Their arms swung freely, uncontrolled as they jerked about, twitching as a gangrenous black liquid began to tear its way out of their flesh, and eyes.

The screaming finally started.

The screen began flashing rapidly from white to black even as all others lights were shattered, dimmed to nonexistence, or otherwise destroyed.

The few Nightwalkers, and their ilk, fled into shadows to escape in a futile attempt to salvage their lives. [u][i]"Pale eyes, dead skin, bloody parties, murder din,"[/i][/u] they all sang, only one of each race left to witness the spectacle.

[i]"The fuck is going on,"[/i] the angel said to her demon counterpart as they pressed themselves against the wall and gradually made their way towards one of the more secret exits. [u]"We didn't have anything to do with this,"[/u] the demon spewed out, yelling over the singing so they could even hear one another. [b]"I...I can't believe this, it's just...[/b][i][u]Unreal?"[/u][/i] All three of them stopped, the human the most still of the three as right in front of them stood two figures, one a terrifying [url=http://fc09.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2013/022/8/e/clown_king_by_chriscold-d5sbuwr.jpg]specter[/url] and the other a [url=http://th03.deviantart.net/fs71/PRE/f/2013/309/3/e/masked_clowns____wretched_clown_by_kdeto-d6t3zbj.png]stoic [i]human[/i][/url] with white hair, white eyes, and black clothes.

[i][u]"You should have run when you saw me,"[/u][/i] both said in perfect sync.

Those were the last words the three heard before everything went black, their ears no longer able to register the chorus of voices all singing. [i][u]"Fallen, falling, twisted minds. Too bad no one reads between lines. If they knew secrets still, I'd be gone, dead, laid still. Now they're here, both awake, the blood is spilled, pooled into a lake. No one ran, no one hid, all were eaten, no witnesses."[/u][/i]

This would continue for several hours, escalating in volume with every minute.[hr]

The din became so loud that several dozen noise complaints were called in and eventually the police, followed swiftly by a SWAT team or ten, and a team of mages to boot. It took all of them to shut down the macabre concert, and even after they'd quelled the singers, the song continued, resonating through their minds for several minutes afterwards.

Some of those men and women would not go home that night.

Falair however went home nice and full. Both of him and Crow was none the wiser.

[center][h2][B]Kasain M've[/B]
[I][b]The Doctor[/b][/I][/h2][h3][i]Loom - Safehouse
Morning[/i][/h3][/center][hr]

Having argued and debated with Juan, while also assisting with his wounds and bandages despite the man's unwillingness to cooperate, Kasain's eyes immediately turned when Emmet awoke. However, he did not react otherwise and his eyes returned to Juan not a second after looking. When Juan finally reacted Kasain put one pair of his four arms on his hips and scowled. [i][u]"Now now, why would you do that?"[/u][/i] The pudgy misshapen demon scolded, trudging closer, but allowing Juan to remain between he and his patient for the moment.

[i][u]"Almost died, and gets on its feet like it should even be awake!"[/u][/i] The Doctor exclaimed this, his arms thrown into the air before lowering once more as he sighed with great exasperation. [i][u]"You going to let me treat him now, you craven fool!?"[/u][/i] He snapped at Juan, growing tired of his paranoid nature.

He was a doctor, and he'd be damned if he was not allowed to do his job. Or rather, Juan would be damned--in his opinion.