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Holding hands. A person to person exchange. Giddy with excitement being lead to an exit. Vincent wasn’t use to giddiness. Most the time conversations ended in I’ll fuck your brains out. Probably from some kid who did not understand the context of brain matter on walls. Gritty. Grainy. Bits of fractured skull. Or I’ll skull fuck you. Vincent’s not even sure how that works. The fragile edges of the skull would probably damage something before you even got an erection. 

“..” Vincent clears his throat, “Walking.” he says, as they exit out of the bar. Onto the streets. Paradise. So sheltered and far away from fields glowing orange. And the sound of crying children. He remembers something like this. Hands. Holding hands. Taking a girl out of a building. Taken from her home. To be used and discarded like a tissue on the floor of dirty apartment. 

“We can,” Vincent paused, “Do both.” he takes a second, “plan for the future. And exchange conversation.” he takes another moment, “As long as.” Vincent points left, “it doesn’t bother you the way I speak.”

Allison laughed lightly, shaking her head. [Color=00aeef]”Please, at least I can understand you. The only thing that bothers me is not being able to track down a certain assassin who holds information I need,”[/color] she replied with a slight flourish of her free hand. [Color=00aeef]”Perhaps later we can find the Nazi and do some damage somewhere. She seems like a blitzing tank. I'm a sneaky, recon, silent killer. You seem a little between us, just by appearances. I think we'll do well together.”[/color]

An assassin who holds information she needs? Perhaps he’d take the offer. He had been so use to working in a little corner he hadn’t done team building in a while. 

“The Nazi seems,”...“to be a wildcard,” Vincent cracks his knuckles before continuing, “Team building exercises. Are always good ways to find. Combos. Weaknesses.” How much should he give? They were a team. How long has it been that he worked with people? “I am trained in a number of skill sets. Martial. Stealth. Weaponry. I was part of a recon team. But I was called for combat roles as well. When we were low manpower.”

[Color=00aeef]”Mhmm, yes. It'll be alright. Maybe we can go after someone higher in the lists, help all of us.”[/color] Allison lifted her mask, her lips raising in a smile. [Color=00aeef]”God, the air feels nice.”[/color]

Her grip on his hand tightened briefly as she let him see her face. [Color=00aeef]”You'll see it eventually, but I do expect you to take my face to the grave… Or until my vengeance is done.”[/color]

He points to take the next right. He’s taken a lot of things to the grave. Taken a lot of secrets with him. Like invisible dog tags people couldn’t see you wear. He doesn’t make note of it. Death is death. He just nods acknowledging her request. 

“My name is Vincent,” he tells her, “Not that my name matters. Everything important to the name. Is dead.In here.” He said pointing to a short detour through an alleyway, “The air is nicer. Pollution always smells better. Than burning bodies.”

 [Color=00aeef]”Mhmm, yes, I can agree. The mask filters some, but it's no gas mask. Rotting bodies aren't much better, either, and I've dealt with both,”[/color] she agreed quietly. [Color=00aeef]”Allison, by the by.”[/color]

Vincent nods. Picking at his jacket to get a fuzz ball off, letting it fall to the sidewalk. Rolling away. 

“When I do laundry. It reminds me of napalm. Both a comfort. And a worry,” Vincent detour ends up in a neighborhood not a business district, “Now. Please do not be. One of those animal loving people and call the animal cops on my supplier.”

[Color=00aeef]”Please, luv, when you pull a blade across a throat and feel the warmth of their life blood flowing out into the world and your hand… When you've seen the Void and what lies within… None of this matters, I guarantee you that.”[/color]

The Mark flared to life, visible through her glove, as she activated Dark Vision, taking a good look at the interior living beings inside. Nothing worrying. She relaxed slightly as the Mark faded.

[Color=00aeef]”The only things that worry me still think I'm dead, I hope.”[/color] she added under her breath, pulling her mask back down.

“Lives matter.” Vincent told her, “The most disrespect you could do. Is not give them weight. Respect is still needed. No matter how much dead. I may not remember each individual. But I respect death. I respect life has weight.”

Vincent lead her to a house. Sign reads; Fur Real Pups. The sound of two guard dogs beginning to bark. The sound of someone’s subwoofer from the back of their car. Hanging low on the driveway. Shiny rims. Guys in baggy pants. Black. Not going to go around that. Playfully punching each other. Ladies half dressed sitting on porch lawn chairs sipping drinks. One of the girls threw a piece of paper at Andrei, one of the Steel Siders.

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“Chrome, yo, brought a friend” 

“.....” Vincent stares. 

“ ‘Ight, we got those pups,”

“....”

It doesn’t take long for them to be running around like chickens with their heads cut off. Eventually three puppies were coming. Vincent handed one to Allison lazily. 

“Let us go,” he told Allison. This was a transaction he made when they were born. 

Allison idly scratched behind the pups ears, running a hand down the soft fur. [Color=00aeef]”Next stop?[/color]

Vincent didn’t think about that. He had forgotten that he needed to pick the pups up today. He couldn’t take the pups back to the warehouse. Not with Allison around. Vincent looked stumped. 

“Keep it,” he said dryly, “I’ll give one to the Nazi. She better not eat. Puppies. That’s for Koreans.”

Allison laughed, loud and slightly insane.

Koreans were always doing something weird. Well anyone outside their own culture. Did something weird. But the Nazi did have tentacles. Maybe she ate puppies. Because she wasn’t entirely human. Then again, was he entirely human he wondered?