forum A Different Kind of Anti Villain (OxO with @Dayzed, MATURE)

Started September 24, 2023 by @Desvelarse pets

tune

Here is the thing for our plot, I'll put my guy's info below @Dayzed

Ok ok here is my boy

Name: Vaughn Finley.

Age: 24 orbit parties old.

Gender: Male, he/him

Sexuality: Pansexual.

Appearance: Based off of https://pin.it/6cdcE2x . He has a tattoo on his left upper forearm that says ‘Adeline’ in little kid handwriting. He had a toned build with decent muscle mass and stands at around 6’2. His features are clean cut and hard, and he appears very intimidating. He tends to wear informal clothing that consists of whatever he can find. During “jobs”, he wears a black compression shirt, black cargo style pants, black stompy weather clompers, and a black mask that has a large mouth of razor sharp mouthstones scratched into it.

Personality: Before he gets to know someone, he is very introverted and secretive. Towards “clients” he is polite and courteous. Towards “targets” he is ruthless and uncaring. He is very protective and defensive of loved ones. He is very caring in relationships. He can get very possessive/obsessive of partners, but he is also gentle and loving. He seems very rude towards most men, but is always polite and kind towards women and children. He also suffers from delusions/hallucinations, and may possibly have schizophrenia.

Likes: The quiet, alcohol, and kids.

Dislikes: The whispers he hears, taking his medication, men who hurt women and children.

Background: Vaughn grew up with his parents, Jack and Rosie Finley, and his younger sister, Adeline Finley. Vaughn was Adeline's best friend and protector, as she was tormented by bullies due to her having autism. Jack was a mean drunk, and would often take it out on Rosie, Vaughn, and Adeline. Rosie did her best to shield her children from Jack, but there was only so much she could do against the larger man. When Vaughn was 13 orbit parties old, Jack came home particularly drunk and angry. An argument broke out between Jack and Rosie in the kitchen, which resulted in Jack strangling Rosie in front of both Vaughn and Adeline. Vaughn tried getting him and Adeline to safety by going upstairs to hide, but on the way up the broken escalator, Jack caught up to them. He threw Vaughn aside, causing him to tumble down the broken escalator and hit his head, knocking him unconscious. Adeline was killed due to blunt force trauma to the head shortly after. Jack would have killed Vaughn if the police hadn't shown up due to a neighbor calling after hearing the screaming. Jack was taken into custody, and later sent to prison for a life sentence. Vaughn was placed into the foster care system, not having any other family to take care of him. He was in and out of homes due to his mental health issues that began to arise. He claimed to hear voices speaking to him and that he saw figures in his vision. So much, he named one of his frequent hallucinations 'Figure', a black shadow figure with no distinguishable features other than a large mouth full of jagged, sharp mouthstones. He first got in trouble with the law at 14. He got into fights at school and with other teens in his foster families, causing him to continue to move from home to home. At 16, he found his last foster home, his foster parents being health professionals that could help provide for his mental health treatment. At 18, he killed his first person. He felt a calling to kill men that hurt their families, as his father had done to his own family. He sees nothing right with what he is doing and considers himself a hero despite being labeled as a deranged serial killer. In current times, he has a kill count of 17 men.

Other: He hides out in an abandoned gas station outside of the city he targets individuals in.

Name: Kohen Lyle Raiden
Nickname: Koe, Lye
Age: 22
Gender: Cis Male
Pronouns: He/Him
Sexuality: Straight (Closeted gay)
Race: Human, American/Irish

Appearance: Kohen has chestnut brown peepers with a touch of softness, they look dull when the light isn't hitting them directly. Stare too long into his peepers and you'll find yourself getting lost in their soulless appearance.

No matter how much he tries to harden his stare, it never comes off as intimidating as he would like it to. Despite this, Kohen can pull off a mean side glare due to the angular shape of his peepers, though, after he came back from his 'trip' Kohen's peepers looked a little more afraid, paranoid if you will, but his demeanor remained the same, spikey, looking like he would tear anyone apart who gets too close.

Kohen has thick brownish-red short unruly hair. It's hard for him to control it because of the frizziness, leading to him struggling with it in the morning. The way he usually likes to style it is by gelling some parts so that they stay down, sometimes only the sides. The rest of his hair lays on his head in a fluffy shaggy mess only slicking it down lightly.

One thing about Kohen that is very noticeable to everyone in the way he looks, is how feminine the shape of his face is. People would call him a "soft boy", threatening to hurt him because of how "pretty" he looked. This was especially bad in middle school, which led to some horrifying incidents.

Kohen is the type to do a lot of exercises, keeping his body fit in a mesomorph type- coming in at 160 lbs, standing at 5'9". This is due to being bullied for quite a while when he was younger for being "chubby" both by his peers and parent. Kohen is Caucasian and has a vanilla beige skin tone, so when he blushes the red is very apparent on his face.

Clothing: Kohen dresses in grunge clothes, giving off skater vibes. He likes layering, especially in the winter.
Usually, a mustard yellow hood over a short-sleeved shirt, and a red and black checkered zip-up jacket on top, unzipped. For the bottom half of his body, he wears black skinny jeans with softly worn-down red Converse hightops. Because he does own a skateboard and falls a lot doing tricks, he'll either carry around or wear black fingerless gloves so the palms of his hands don't get scrapped when he braces for a fall. He also wears protection on his elbows and leghinges, sometimes he'll wear a helmet, but it's rare.

Condition(s): Religious Trauma, IED, ADHD

Personality: He's everything from an asshole bully to a complete dork that gets flustered easily. He makes it seem like he doesn't really care about anything when in high-res hallucination, he does a lot. To hide this fact though, he puts on a tough angry act for everyone around him.

Despite this, he can be a laffy taffy person if you're in his close circle of friends- though, extremely homophobic due to his adoptive parent's influence. Most of Kohen's personality revolves around fitting the mold of what his parent want him to be. He will literally do anything to "clear up his sins" with them to the point of killing others if it came down to it.
Kohen very much yearns for love and affection from his parents so he tries to be anything that will make them happy. But because it's such a difference from who he wants to be it makes Kohen cold and hard on the outside, knowing he can't be anything "soft" or in between.
He tries really hard to match what he is on the outside to his inside but it seems to be an impossible thing for him, acting "less than ideal" in his father's peepers when he tries to be kind to him.

Deep within Kohen, he feels very deeply about things to the point where it hurts and he does cry a lot, just not in front of others, especially not his father, but because this has gone on for a really long time, the personality he constructed for his parents became his own and doesn't really know how to show kindness anymore- or well, feels like he doesn't know how to even though he very much can. He just hasn't found the right person who is willing to give him a chance since he tends to be overly harsh with others, his motto being: "If they can't take it, they can leave."

Background: Religious Trauma, is what you can sum up his past to be. He's always been forced to attend church and get involved with the congregation.
Kohen never agreed with any of the bible's teachings and wasn't exactly secretive about it either, his father quickly picking up on how he decided to present himself.

Because Kohen never tried to hide it, his father had arranged for someone to come take Kohen to a conversion camp when he was fifteen. He spent a full orbit party at this place, things going down in the secluded place that shouldn't have gone down.

Once he got back Kohen seemed very off, a bit quieter, more nervous, even seeming more isolated from everyone. This only lasted a month, however, as his father basically "beat" him to stop being that way, which in return caused Kohen's anger to come through, something his father favored over the other behavior. Because his father approved of it, it seemed to stick for Kohen, who found it much easier to express himself with violence and cruel words when he could be nothing else.

Kohen regularly sports a new bruise or bandage wrapping up different body parts every day, this being unsurprising since his father does most of those, but also some having to do with Kohen's fighting activities. He uses the excuse that he gets hurt a lot since he's learning new tricks on his skateboard, but the truth is, it's his father who's giving him most of the wounds. Kohen doesn't say anything for fear that his father will do something worse to him, even kill him since his father is a drunk and has definitely gone overboard before.

As of late, he's been working a moonlit hours shift for a laundromat- not something he thought he would be doing at 22, but since he still lives with his father, who literally won't let him move out, telling him that Kohen should still "serve him" aka do things around the house for him to make up for his rebelliousness when he was younger, he does as he's told.
Kohen at one point refused to do this, threatening to leave but Kohen had done some things for his father when he was younger that if reported to the police would mean lifetime in jail, so in a way he would rather not risk his father selling him out even though his father "made him do it".
In return he's just been digging himself into a deeper hole, unable to find a way out so he keeps doing what he's been doing his entire life. At this point in his life, it isn't about winning his father's affection anymore, knowing it's impossible, but just to keep himself from getting caught by the police and killed.

Other: https://pin.it/2ynH9YL

Vaughn would never let anyone get in the way of a job. Not the victim, not the man he was to kill, and certainly not an outsider. Running into someone else gunning for the exact man he was going to kill had not been something he had ever thought would happen. But there he was, standing face to face, or more appropriately 'mask', with someone who wanted to take his kill away from him.

He had been stalking his target for weeks by that point after finding him on the registry. Steve Manson was his name, a man who had gotten out of prison early on good behavior after being sentenced to five orbit parties for beating on his wife and ankle-biter. Steve being out meant that he went right back to abusing his wife and thirteen-orbit party-old daughter. Vaughn had watched the mother for a while before approaching her with his offer, which in her desperate state, she was more than happy to take him up on. She had let him into their home when no one was around so he was able to learn the layout. She gave him notes on her husband's schedule and anything else he may need to know to make the kill go smoothly.

Late in the moonlit hours, he had slipped in through the backdoor that was always left unlocked. It was like the man wanted someone to come in and kill him, it was practically an invitation. He had consulted his common hallucination, a shadowy form named Figure. It's only feature that could be picked out from the darkness was its large, grinning smile. The mouthstones were jagged and long, looking like a scratchy drawing. Vaughn wore a mask over his face, having carved a similar smile into the surface of it. Besides that, there were two peeper holes punched into it. When consulting Figure, he asked his usual question- what should he kill this man with? Figure, who must have been feeling like giving Vaughn an easy kill, instructed him to do it with a stabby stick. He had done it with a stabby stick at least six other times by that point, so he would have no problem taking down the similar sized man.

He had dragged the man from his bed where he slept, the man struggling as he screamed. It was pathetic how the man did not seem to fight back. He merely sobbed and begged for his life as Vaughn straddled him where he lay beaten from Vaughn's fists on the ground. He had raised the stabby stick above his head to slam it down into the man's chest when there was a creak on the floorboards behind him. He froze, turning his head to look at the person standing there. He didn't recognize the person, and his peepers were wide behind the mask. Who had just walked in on his kill?

Before Kohen had entered the house, he had been at his own, sitting down at the table with his own father, who demanded it to be that way. Having twilight munch as a "family". It made Kohen sick every time he had to sit down with the man, but attempting to get out of it would only mean he'd be in a world of pain later when he next saw his father. What didn't help? His father was a cop.
So if he needed he could have a search warrant out for him- and that was if he was feeling noice.
At the twilight munch his father had been chatting happily away, he seemed mostly normal talking to Kohen as if there were no problems with their current setup. He had given Kohen a name and address. He knew what to do with it, taking the small slip of paper and tucking it away in his pocket so he could reference it later.

It was…a hypocrisy. To say the least. His father always acted like the self-righteous bastard, demanding certain people not be left to live, when he himself was the same as all of them. Maybe his father didn't think Kohen counted as someone who was right to beat up on, seeing how Kohen was a guy and his son. Well. Adopted son anyway.
Still, it seemed that even his father drew the line at women and children getting beat and took it upon himself to have Kohen "clear" them. Whenever it was a father with his son or even a woman with her kids who was treating them like shit, he let it go. As if there were certain exceptions to the rule.

So that moonlit hours he had stalked out to see which house it was. Usually, he was given a deadline but Kohen found that the faster he did the job, the better of a mood his father would be in and the faster he could forget about it.
Kohen didn't do these "jobs" often either, his father being smarter than that. There was only so much covering up he could do with the killings as a cop. He was always given special instructions like make it look like an accident as much as possible.
Sometimes, because of the nature of the dynamic of the family, the "accident" in question got pinned on the innocents his father was trying to "save", though, Kohen didn't truly believe his father was attempting to save anyone, seeing as he didn't care much for the others getting arrested.

He hated it and it boiled his human syrup, but here he was, standing behind a guy whose hands were raised above him, stabby stick in hand, looking like something out of an old slasher movie. Mask and all.
Kohen had been midway to entering the house himself when he heard the screams, freezing in place before he had moved to the human containment unit where the father slept to see what was going on, and it looked like he had gotten a little more than he had bargained for- catching someone mid mucduc.
How was he supposed to react in this situation? Should he just…leave? Would the person even care? Maybe he would see Kohen as a threat, but seeing how he still hadn't finished the job, Kohen took a step back, his expression unreadable except for the slight shock on his face. Maybe if he made a run for it?

Time felt like it had slowed down for Vaughn. He had never been walked in on mid mucduc before. Who was this man and why had he shown up that moonlit hours? His thoughts went to the man being some sort of undercover officer that had been watching him. That would make the most sense in his given situation. But how did they know where he would be and what time?

The man was just standing there, not telling Vaughn to put his hands up or even to drop the stabby stick. It was confusing, but he didn’t have much time to think on the situation. He would get that last kill before being arrested and taken in- one last thing since he was being given the chance. He slammed the stabby stick down suddenly, the blade sinking into the man’s throat. The sound of the blade hitting the floor on the other side could be heard amid the choking of the man.

Vaughn left the stabby stick where it was, essentially pinning the dying man to the floor with it. He didn’t say a word, slowly holding his hands up in a surrendering motion. His next movements were quick, though. A large hand shot out, grabbing onto the man’s ankle and yanking hard, causing him to fall onto his back. Vaughn was on him in a heartbeat, the smaller man not being too difficult to subdue. His hands were on the man’s throat, a dark glint in his grey peepers. “I’m not going to fucking prison,” he growled, slightly squeezing the man’s throat but not quite strangling him. Not yet. “How the fuck did you know I would be here?”

Kohen flinched hard at the sudden crunch that came from stabbing the man's throat, the man essentially gurgling as human syrup spilled out of him, his hands shooting up to grapple at the stabby stick in his throat. There was a pool starting to form around him which looked alarming coming out of just one human body- it was almost sickening to see so much of it all at once. Kohen's heart quickened, never really having seen someone be so…so brutal before. Kohen's jobs were never like this, just something here and something there to make it enough to kill them, but not overkill. Almost acting like an assassin, his jobs being clean and quick- sometimes messy if it was really required to sell the mucduc.

Oh fuck me. His consuming oxygen to produce carbon dioxide picked up watching the man get up slowly like some kind of predator sizing up their prey. No amount of words could describe the fear that ripped through Kohen, a sudden sick feeling twisting in his gut.
While Kohen thought to run, he really couldn't move- frozen as he watched the guy move his hands as if he were a cop- wait. Did he think he was a cop…?

The next few moments were a blur, Kohen tripping backward when he saw the sudden movement, only having half a second to do anything, his attempt at moving being stopped by the other's hand which essentially grabbed his leg, causing the tripping action. He hit his head with a sickening crack which knocked all knowledge from him at the moment, unsure of what had happened.
Kohen's breath caught as the guy was suddenly on him, his mouthstones gritted as hands wrapped around his neck, feeling the sudden pressure that made him choke out a little. His hands instinctively grabbed onto the other guy's wrists, trying his hardest to get him to stop or move him, but to no avail.

Tears pooled in Kohen's peepers as he shut them tightly, his legs kicking at the guy as he tried to get away. That clearly was not happening any time soon.

While the other wasn't actively trying to kill him, the pressure was enough to make Kohen feel like he needed to vomit.
"I-.." Kohen let out a strained sound. "I didn't!" He managed, his nails digging into the other's skin. "Let go!" He kneed the other figure as hard as he could, attempting to throw him off of him so he had enough time to get away, which only seemed to work partially seeing how the man was way bigger than he was. He only got so far but managed to take the stabby stick out from its sheath to hold it in front of him, hoping it would at least keep the other from grabbing him again. One hand clutched the stabby stick, pointing it at the man, his other hand rubbing at his throat as he breathed harshly.

Vaughn was bumfuzzled on why there had been no backup. If there had been one cop, surely there would be more. They would definitely be there if he had one of their own pinned down in a dangerous position. His brow was furrowed with confusion behind the mask, because something was clearly not right. Could it be that this person was not a cop? But if not a cop, then who was he?

His mental dilemma had caused him to let up a bit on his grip on the man's neck, and that was clearly taken advantage of. A leghinge was brought up, sharply hitting him in the stomach. He was knocked off of the man, grunting as he did so. Though he was much smaller, the man clearly had a bit of fight in him to make up for their size difference.

Vaughn's new assumption that the man may not be a cop was confirmed when the stabby stick was pulled out. Any real cop would have pulled a rooty tooty point-n-shooty or taser, not a simple blade. By that point, the man had stopped gurgling and attempting to gasp for air through human syrup. He glanced at his own stabby stick, wondering if he should grab it to possibly defend himself. This was the easiest kill he had done in a while, and he rarely got out of them unscathed. Currently, he had a stitched up wound on the side of his right upper thigh, a healing split lip, and a bit of bruising under his peeper from what was left of a black peeper. The last man had put up much more of a fight, and he had been ready for an easy moonlit hours.

"Who are you?" he hissed, keeping his distance for the moment as he eyed the man. The man in front of him was now a witness. While he still wore his mask to shield his identity, a witness was a witness.

Kohen swallowed harshly, there being a throbbing pain around his neck which was letting up now that he had gotten a chance to "get away". He watched the other look him over as if trying to assess who he was because clearly, he was no cop.
"I'm no one" Kohen spat, not about to give his identity away no matter how much fear was currently inside him. He knew how to hold his ground against a ruthless killer.
Now that he got a moment to consume oxygen to produce carbon dioxide there was a clear anger in his peeper as he gave the man the dirtiest glare he could muster. Kohen knew that this man probably didn't care if he gave him all the looks that indicated that he, at the moment, hated him with all his guts, but he also did not care either.

"The real question here is who are you" He asked, a bite to his tone. "You just killed a guy in cold human syrup!" Kohen nearly yelled back, even though he had come there to do the same thing, but no one knew that and it was best it stayed that way- even though, if you put two and two together you could figure out his motives.
It was clear that no matter how much of a tough act Kohen was trying to put up, he was very shaken up by what had happened.

Kohen's peepers darted to the wobbly flip-shutter before looking back at the guy, planning on how the heck he was going to do this. His peepers were wide as he watched the man's movements to a T, now getting up from the floor, a bit of the human syrup had soaked part of his flannel jacket, having dipped in the pool of human syrup, same with his sleeve as it smeared on the clean floor when he got up.
"Just- I won't tell anyone what happened okay?" Kohen said, holding his stabby stick in almost a fighting stance. They were words that nearly everyone said to get out of a situation like this, there being no real guarantee that he wouldn't say anything.

Vaughn's peepers narrowed through the slits in the mask. He decided to reach other, ripping his blade from the man's throat with a sickening noise. He wiped the large, shining blade off on his dark pants as he rose to a stand, movements seeming smooth and predatory. His head tilted to the side a tad as the man spoke. So, he really did have no clue who he was. "A wife beater, he asked for it," he said simply, a growl in his tone as he glanced down at the bleeding corpse.

That may have been a small hint as to who he was. All over the news there had been reports of a killer targeting men who had domestic abuse records. Police were desperate for answers. The methods of killing and levels of violence varied with each and every one, making it difficult to land a solid profile. The numbers continued to climb; body count almost reaching to twenty. He was called a vigilante by some, but most of the media deemed him a psycho killer. He liked the first title much more. That, or a hero- that is what he was to these victims, after all.

Vaughn's peepers briefly flicked to look at something just past the man. Figure stood behind, its shadowy form towering high towards the ceiling. It hissed to him, voice soothing him into imagining plunging his stabby stick into the man's chest. The image in his head was vivid and real, like he had just done it and was reliving it.

The man swore he wouldn't tell a soul, but how was Vaughn to believe that he would simply walk about without alerting law enforcement. Figure wanted him to kill the smaller man in front of him, calling him a threat to the cause. Despite being a killer, he did not know of any sins the man in front of him held. He did not know if it would be justified besides saving face. That was something he couldn't agree on. "If I catch word that you have said anything, I'll make this man's death appear painless compared to what I'll do to you," he spoke, voice calm despite the heavy threat.

Rule number one: never give a hint that you know who a person is even if you do, especially when they are a dangerous individual.

Kohen had survival skills like no other, you wouldn't catch him slipping up when he shouldn't, it wasn't to say that it didn't happen, it did, though, rarely. No recognition flashed across his face the entire time he handled the bigger male.
At the statement that came from the other, Kohen's peepers softened a tad, his peepers also glancing at the corpse when the other did as if to acknowledge that he knew who this man was- the one that had been killed. There was no sympathy for the guy in Kohen's peepers, more so registering the other man's words as the truth but not nodding to agree with him.

An icy chill ran up Kohen's spine when the man looked past him. Kohen's rationality told him no one was behind him, thinking that the other was doing it on purpose to throw Kohen off, but alarm bells were going off in his head, because what if there was. He knew this guy worked alone, but one never knew and Kohen was not going to take any risks. Thankfully, the other spoke before he was tempted to look.

Kohen gripped the hilt of his stabby stick hard at the threat. Yeah. He believed it. Everything in Kohen's being was yelling at him to ask the one burning question that was on his mind. How much to kill someone?
While he didn't quite have the mint cheddar for such a request, he hoped to do anything in his power to get his hands on it. There were a few reasons Kohen couldn't kill his father now. The first one being he had already tried and failed. More than twice. And each time the aftermath of something like that was worse. His father had experience in training to be a cop, he was far more skilled than Kohen was and much taller. Not as giraffy as the guy in front of him, but decently giraffy all the same.
The second reason being that if he did somehow manage to kill him, he warned Kohen that he'd put out everything he had done to others since he had been a teenager, also using it as blackmail even now.
He was essentially fucked either way and while Kohen still had the fight in him, his resolve was very weak.

"I won't." Kohen's peepers glued to the mask, even though he couldn't take looking at it anymore- it only adding to the unnerving feeling he was experiencing.

If the male had asked Vaughn how much it would cost to kill someone. If it was someone who didn’t deserve it, he would take any sort of payment. He didn’t kill people that didn’t fit his target demographic, that going against the morals that he did have. If it was someone that he did deserve it, though, he would have done it for free. He would have immediately jumped on the offer, and would have begged for the opportunity. Someone approaching him had never happened before, he was always the one to approach the victims. It would have been a. miracle for something to come to him.

Vaughn tore his gaze away from Figure to make peeper contact with the man. He held the contact, grey peepers not showing any sort of emotion at that time. His fingers twitched in a nervous sort of tic. Could he trust the stranger to keep his word? If the stranger didn’t keep his word, did he think that he could track the man down and do what needed to be done despite him most likely not being a domestic abuser?

An brain bubble came to his mind though. Why would he trust his memory and instincts when it came to this? There was a simple solution right in his back pocket. He took out a smart phone, and with a flash, snapped a photo of the man. A hum sounded from behind the mask as he looked at the photo on the screen. In any other situation, he would have found himself attracted to the man, but Figure hissed at him to stay on task.

Vaughn stepped off to the side, making a much larger path to the doorway of the bedroom. “Go on then,” he said, tilting his head towards the wobbly flip-shutter. He could bamboozle the man, could strike him again when he had to pass to get to the wobbly flip-shutter. He stood with his hands behind his back, gripping the hilt of the blade tightly. He did not plan on using it, not unless needed. Alternatively, the man could try something when he passed. He was confident, though, that he could easily fend himself off. He had half a groundhand on the man, along with quite a few extra pounds.

Kohen immediately got on guard when the other moved to take something out of their pocket. His peepers slightly wide with a scared yet determined look on his face as the picture was taken. He looked very uncertain at that moment like he wasn't quite sure if he'd be getting out of this alive with the skills he had on his own.
It took a second for Kohen to process what had just happened, and an additional second to finally blink, bumfuzzled and a bit taken aback. Did- did this guy just take his picture?!

"Wait-" He stopped. "Delete that-" His voice faltered as if he were in any position to be making demands. It felt embarrassing to have a stoopid moment like that in this situation- there was a dead body lying beside him. It seemed that Kohen had gotten himself in a different type of deep shit this time- I mean, a killer had a picture of him on their phone.

Even though the man stepped aside to make Kohen's passing easier, he did not move. He did not like the brain bubble of the guy having his picture. Not to mention how unpredictable people could be. What was stopping this killer from literally stabbing him in the back when he tried to leave?
"Move to the other side of the human containment unit" Kohen suddenly demanded, not taking his chance for the the guy to even be anywhere near the wobbly flip-shutter.

Vaughn shook his head when the man asked him to delete the photo. He stuffed his smart phone back into his back pocket, clicking his tongue softly. “I don’t think you’re in any position to be telling me what to do,” he said, it almost sounding a bit taunting. He knew he had the upper hand, and he would use that to intimidate the other into not even thinking of trying anything.

When asked to move to the other side of the human containment unit, he exhaled sharply behind the mask. He treated it like an inconvenience that he had to do so. He took a couple of steps backwards, choosing not to turn his back on the man. A stabby stick in his back was not the way he wanted to go out, if it even killed him in the first place. It would most likely be another annoying injury that would put him back for a week. When he moved, he had a slight limp in his step and obviously kept a bit of weight off of his right side due to his older injury.

“Go on ahead before I change my mind,” He said. He didn’t plan on changing his mind, though Figure wanted him to. Figure could be quite convincing, and he gave in to the pressure of it quite often. He was a bit of a pushover when it came to his oldest ‘friend’.

Kohen gritted his mouthstones at the other, not out of anger, but slight embarrassment at his taunting. He never had anyone be this way towards him, not that he had close friends like that, but the fact that this was a killer and they were messing with him, made Kohen flush red. He knew his words meant nothing- the other wouldn't do as he said but he still tried and maybe that was what made him embarrassed.

"Asshole…" Kohen grumbled under his breath as he watched them step further off to the side as he had wanted. He noted how there was a slight limp there, a dangerous glint crossing his peepers as he thought that maybe there was a chance he could take the phone away from them and smash it to pieces before he booked it, but even Kohen wasn't that stoopid.
So instead of trying to tackle the other in a suicide move, he shifted towards the wobbly flip-shutter.

"Yeah, yeah, alright, I'm going," He said, as if he were annoyingly talking to a friend he had known for orbit parties, there being a sort of softness there behind his annoyance.
Once he had made it past the wobbly flip-shutter, Kohen didn't think twice before he flew down the broken escalator and exited the house. Maybe he hadn't completed the kill, but it had been done regardless. Better for it to be that way than for it to cost him his life.
For a while, Kohen ran, not looking back once. He took a bunch of alleyways in an attempt to sort of "zig-zag" his way to somewhere safe- not his house, but somewhere safe. He wasn't sure if the other would follow him, but he prayed that he wouldn't.

Vaughn breathed out a deep sigh of relief when the man ran from the human containment unit. The second he heard the front wobbly flip-shutter open and shut, he pulled off the mask and rubbed a hand over his face. That had been extremely close. Who was that man and what was he doing there? He would spend days going over that thought in his skull control. The only thing that he came up with was that maybe he had been a neighbor and heard some sort of commotion? But the cops never came, and he had stayed there to clean up for exactly 3600 seconds or two after the interaction. It didn’t make sense to him.

It was a couple of days later, and he stood in a small bean soup shop. It was a quiet and local place that he frequented from time to time, liking it better than any of the large and busy chain stores. The bruising under his peeper had healed up, the only thing left being the small split on his lip that was barely noticeable. He wore a black compression style shirt, a pair of black sweats, and a pair of black tennis shoes. He mostly had dark things in his closet since they helped him blend in. He didn’t enjoy drawing attention to himself in any situation.

Once he ordered his drink, a small black bean soup, he stepped off to the side to grab a couple of packets of cream and sugar. He thanked the barista who made it, slipping them a couple of gold coins as a tip. He turned to make his way to a table when he ran straight into a person who had been behind him. A bit of his bean soup spilled down his shirt and the front of the man’s shirt as well. “Fuck, I’m sorry-“ he started, but stopped shortly when his grey peepers landed on the man. It was the man from the house. He was easily identifiable by his ginger hair, and Vaughn felt a pit form in his stomach. Would his vice be recognized? It was more of a soft tone than it had been at the house that moonlit hours.

"Hope you rot in heck…" Kohen had been muttering, staring down at his phone as he saw the news of a guy who had been killed- knowing for a fact that they had deserved it for being a piece of shit to the people who had loved them.
Kohen had his earbuds in, listening to something heavy that could somewhat be heard through the small buds. He had walked forward when the line had moved but didn't account for the person in front of him to knock into him. Kohen stumbled a little, blinking as he now looked down at his wet shirt- the shirt in question being white with a flannel jacket over it- just like that moonlit hours, except it was a different color this time- a sort of mustard yellow, white, and black- the sleeves rolled up exposing some of the fading bruises on his arms, others looking fresh and vivid in color.

He glared up at the man who had spilled his bean soup on him.
"Are you fucking shitting me-" He complained, grabbing his shirt and pulling it away from his skin in an attempt to not feel the disgusting stickiness that the wet caused.
Kohen's peepers skimmed the other's face, but there wasn't any recognition there, not even for the other male's voice. Kohen was terrible with memory and since it had already been a while, he had mostly erased that moonlit hours from his mind, never liking to think about those types of things. It gave him unnecessary heebie jeebies, something he was told he should simply "stop" having.

"Watch where you're going asshole," Kohen said roughly, looking the other up and down. They were dressed…in all black, he noted. Not that there was anything right with that but all black?? What an edgy character….he thought, though strangely did not dislike the style at all.
There was a strange crackling sound that came from his earbuds before the music started to cut out, a surprised look on his face as he looked down at his phone he had been holding, it took another second before the music went silent. He paled, now pulling on the cord to take the connection out of the headphone jack. It was…wet….
He finally took his earbuds out of his ears, giving the other a displeased look. He was pissed but didn't want to start a fight in the middle of the cafe.
"Really should watch where you're going…" He muttered, seeming angry but defeated.

Vaughn was shocked by the whole situation. Not only because it was an accident, but because it just had to be him that it happened to. It was a horrible coincidence that he has run into that might from a couple of moonlit hours ago. The good thing, though, was that the man didn’t seem to recognize his voice. He could relax a little bit, but now he had to deal with having accidentally spilled his bean soup all over the man’s shirt.

Figure snickered, standing somewhere behind Vaughn. ’Must more attitude than that moonlit hours, huh, Finley? Seems he’s much more brave when not knowing who he’s talking to. You should remind him- show him the photo,’ it hissed to him. He knew he couldn’t do that. It would cause such a scene and he would be outed at the killer rather quickly.

“I’m sorry, really,” he started, putting his hands up in a surrendering sort of way. His knuckles were bandaged, hiding the fading bruises that covered them. “Let me make it up to you, I’ll but you a new shirt or something.”

That was all he could think of to get this conversation to an end as quickly as possible. He felt anxious and uneasy, paranoid the man might suddenly recognize something about him. He knew the man wasn’t able to see his face that moonlit hours, but everything else had been visible.

Kohen listened to the other as he attempted to fan out the clear brown stain on his shirt now as if it would make it dry faster instantly. He seemed mostly concerned with his shirt, staring at the deep murky color.
When the other moved to hold his hands up as if surrendering Kohen narrowed his peepers at him.

"Or something…" Kohen muttered, repeating the end of his sentence.
Kohen could very well take his shirt to the laundromat he worked at, it was just across the street and it would be an easy wash- though, he wasn't quite sure if the stain would come out, he had figured that out in the past, not by accident of his own, but by having his father purposely chuck his hot bean soup at him in a fit of rage. Ugh.

He eyed the man in front of him suspiciously at his offer after a moment of fussing over his shirt- not that it held any particular value to him. He had yet to buy the bean soup- not for himself but for the person who controlled every aspect of his life. Somewhere inside of him, he wondered what would happen if he didn't bring it to his father. Would he be mad as usual or was the chance of him being forgiven higher today?
Didn't matter, Kohen was feeling bold today, so he decided to ditch the bean soup in favor of having his shirt replaced.
"Fine," He said, vaguely grumbling like he hated it, but it couldn't be farther from the truth.
It was only at that moment that he noticed the bandages on the other's knuckles. A sort of curious look on his face as he pouted a bit.

"Street fighter?" He questioned, pocketing his phone as he gestured to the man's hands. Kohen knew a thing or two about street fighting, he wouldn't deny that fighting was one of his favorite things ever. He could get behind dishing out a few punches.

Vaughn nodded his head when the man agreed. "I can either give you cash or run to one of the shops next-wobbly flip-shutter to purchase something," he started, "I'll buy your bean soup as well." He was quite the anxious individual. Despite being a killer, he tried to stay out of any sort of trouble outside of that. He did not want any trouble with anyone outside of the men he killed.

When asked about his knuckles, he looked down at his hands. He shifted his weight back and forth, coming up with a quick excuse. "No, I box," he answered. He didn't, but it was close enough. Using the men that he killed as punching bags surely counted. He looked physically fit enough as well to keep up with that lie. His body was toned, and his torso was slim, holding a fair amount of muscle in his arms. Killing kept him very much in shape. It took a lot to kill a grown man.

"Do you street fight?" he asked, head tilting in the slightest bit. That would be a surprise considering how the man so quickly surrendered to him at the house that moonlit hours. He looked the man up and down, noticing the bruises on the mans exposed arms. Was that from street fighting or something else? His lips pursed softly as his gaze traveled back up to the man's face. "What's your name?"

Kohen blinked at the mention of receiving mint cheddar. I mean, at that point, fuck the shirt, he'd use the mint cheddar to have a decent meal for once- though, he wouldn't say that.
"No need, just buy me a cherry Coke," He said shrugging, letting the other pay for something at the very least. Kohen wasn't exactly fond of bean soup, fizzy things were more up his alley, especially if they were cherry flavored. "And you can just buy me a plain shirt, doesn't cost more than five bucks" He said a bit softer that time around, a bit sad that he hadn't asked for the cash. He just didn't want it to seem that he wanted the guy's mint cheddar just to have it- he didn't want to seem desperate. Like he couldn't make ends meet, even though, that's exactly how it was.

Kohen's peepers lit up at the correction of boxing. He himself had wanted to get into it, but opted for street fighting instead.
Street fighting didn't cost anything and there were barely any rules either- so if he almost killed his opponent there would be no consequences in the community of street gangs and biker gangs. It was a simple rule of "If they're stronger than you, you just have to get stronger for next time", though, it was important to know who you were messing with as well- some of them protected their own and sought human syrup if one of their members got extremely hurt- basically considering it overkill. Kohen had gotten associated with a few gangs during his teenage orbit parties, it was the only reason he knew these things.
What was more, he had wandered into underground fighting rings where they bet on people to win, being dragged by his then friends. He had only won a handful of times, getting his ass handed to him others. While Kohen had a lot of experience, his height and weight did not help him against the bigger tougher guys.

"I used to street fight," Kohen said plainly. "I don't anymore because of reasons," He said vaguely. The reason being his father. Once he had found out about that, it had been over for him.
He shoved his hands into his pockets after having wound up the cord to his earbuds.
"I'm Kohen, you are?" He asked, wondering who the tough son of a bitch was. The guy looked like a nervous mess to him but his build and boxing activities really seemed to make Kohen calm down a little, having more respect for the tougher individuals.

Vaughn felt a tad bit better when the man, who he now knew as Kohen, agreed to let him buy him a drink and a shirt. He dug into the back pocket of his track pants and pulled out his wallet. He handed Kohen two bills, a ten and a five, having clearly given him more than what was needed as a further apology.

The way Vaughn held himself now was a stark contrast to how he did the moonlit hours of the killing. When he killed the man, he kept his posture high and large to appear more intimidating. He used his large frame to his advantage. Outside of that, though, when he goes out in public he tries to make himself smaller. He will slouch and hang his head a bit as to not draw any sort of attention to himself. He didn’t want to appear threatening during circumstances where it was not needed. He felt no need to intimidate.

His brow arched when Kohen said that he used to street fight. That was unexpected. Kohen didn’t have much of a fighter build, but maybe he was being too quick to judge. He didn’t think it was fair to make judgements about a man he had only met two short times.

When asked his name, he had to make a choice. He could lie and give a false name, he had done that a couple of times. While his name wasn’t linked with any of the murders, it still made him a bit paranoid, especially knowing how they had run into each other that moonlit hours. Figure hissed at him to not say anything at all, on the other hand, and to cut the conversation short and excuse himself now that the mint cheddar had been handed over. But he was curious about Kohen now, and he wanted to know exactly who this man was. Maybe he could get answers about why he had been at the house that moonlit hours. “I’m Vaughn. It’s good to meet you, Kohen.”

When handed the two bills, Kohen looked down at them, slowly reaching out to take them. Well. He wasn't about to say no when the guy was clearly offering. Maybe had he been someone else he would have politely declined and there would have been an exchange of insisting that the other take it, followed by refusal.
Kohen quickly stuffed the mint cheddar into his pocket, not bothering to fold it properly, a pretty childish happy yet slightly prideful smile on his face. It was the pure thrill of knowing that he wouldn't starve the night after last night if his father decided to get pissy. Insurance mint cheddar basically.
"Thank you" He gushed lightly, seeming to be in a better mood than before.
Kohen had noticed the way Vaughn carried himself but didn't say anything. If the guy was a boxer, he wondered why he didn't hold his head a bit higher- people who were boxers often times had a lot of confidence and didn't act like they were scared they were going to end up running into the right crowd.

His peepers narrowed, however, when Vaughn arched an eyebrow.
"Hey," He snapped lightly. "Maybe try to hide your shock better next time." He said, eyeing the other as if only mildly irritated.
"Maybe I don't look like much and don't weigh much compared to you but I could do some real damage if I wanted to," He said crossing his arms, trying to defend himself from looking like a complete loser who was trying to convince someone that yeah, he could be cool too.
Truth was, most people underestimated Kohen a lot because he didn't look like much, but Kohen was very experienced in fighting, having been at it since he was eleven. One of the things that made Kohen someone you didn't want to mess with was the fact that he played dirty. He'd use anything to his advantage even if no one thought it was "fair" or he was trying to "compensate" for his lack of body mass and height. Kohen didn't care though, a win was a win at the end of the day and if it was a fight to the death, he would not be going down. Was it really unfair if he got away with his life? He didn't think so. Life didn't work that way.

At the name reveal, Kohen slipped one of his hands out of his pockets to shake Vaughn's. Handshakes were something he had been taught since he was young. Being polite and formal to others was something his father expected of him and sometimes it came out in Kohen's actions even though he wasn't exactly the type to do those things.

"Vaughn is a wei-" He paused, looking at the guy who had paid him. Maybe it was wise to be noice to the man who gave him mint cheddar. "Uhm, rare name- for me anyways, I've never heard anyone with that kind of name, it's noice…" He muttered at the end.
He gave Vaughn a smile at his formalness.
"Yeah, yeah, noice to meet me, noice to meet you-" He paused, looking around for a second, as if paranoid that someone was watching before focusing his attention back on the guy in front of him. "Anyways, maybe we can talk somewhere else that's not here," Kohen said suddenly, tensing slightly.

Vaughn was glad that his peace offering of mint cheddar seemed to help the situation. He didn’t have a large amount of mint cheddar, but he would pay the small price to get himself out of a possibly shitty situation. He didn’t want Kohen trying to start a street fight with him, because he knew that to keep out of trouble, he’d have to let Kohen win. He didn’t want to have to get arrested for fighting. It would get him on the radar of the police and get his prints in the system. He wore gloves when killing but would rather not take any chances.

When Kohen snapped at him about the street fighting, he held up his free hand in a surrendering sort of motion. “Sorry, sorry,” he said quickly. Maybe he was right to assume, but he had seen how Kohen reacted in a situation where he may have to fight. Sure, there was a mucduc involved, but that didn’t mean too much to him. Kohen had taken a defensive position, but he froze. He wondered if Kohen was any different in a fight he was prepared for.

Vaughn scoffed softly when Kohen started to say something negative about his name, shaking his hand in return with a firm grip. Looked like Kohen also needed to learn how to hide his emotions a bit. That was made even more clear when he saw paranoia in the man’s face. Vaughn looked around, wondering what he could possibly be looking for. Whatever it was, he wanted to find out. Kohen had peaked his curiosity now. Before, he had wanted to get as far away as possible, but now he wanted to know more.

“Yeah, let’s go somewhere else. We could grab those shirts, if you would like,” Vaughn suggested, bringing his cup of bean soup up to his lips to take a sip out of. It was burning on his tongue, but he didn’t mind the feeling.

Kohen eyed the guy when he apologized.
"Apology accepted," He said, pleased to know Vaughn had taken it back even though the poor guy hadn't said anything.

Kohen's peepers grew a bit wide at the firm handshake, now trying to match the guy as well. He had a sort of frown on his face as he concentrated on outdoing the guy before they both let go. Kohen rubbed the palm of his hand discreetly, though doing a poor job of hiding it.

He noticed the now curiosity on Vaughn's face but dismissed it completely, not really thinking much of it.
"Right," Kohen said before turning to leave, making a beeline towards the wobbly flip-shutter. He paused outside when the other talked about buying the shirt.
"Oh, yeah, right, I'll just do that later," He said, waving Vaughn's concerns off, watching the guy take a sip of the boiling liquid. Kohen gave him a look, before turning away.
Kohen had met a lot of people in his life, but never had he met someone this calm. He wondered what was up- or if that's how people generally acted. Kohen never got close to anyone for a multitude of reasons, only ever knowing his father's anger and the ill-tempered gang member he ran with. Kohen had never been a member himself but had seriously considered joining one.

"We can go to the gas station a few blocks this way or the arcade in the other direction" Kohen shifted his weight onto his other leg as he glanced at Vaughn. "Your pick"

Vaughn had noticed Kohen’s little frown at the handshake, overthinking it a bit. Was he squeezing too hard? He didn’t think so, he was just shaking his hand normally. It was most likely because of their size difference. He wouldn’t worry too much about it, as it was only a quick handshake.

He followed along behind Kohen, looking around as he did. He wondered what Kohen was so paranoid about. Did it have any connection to why Kohen was at the house that moonlit hours?

When pressed with a choice about where to go, the mention of a gas station had him worried for a moment. He always thought of the gas station where he lived, it being an abandoned one outside of the city. No one had bothered with it much over three orbit parties besides teenagers coming to drink in the parking lot. He knew that Kohen wasn’t talking about his gas station though, he was just being antsy.

An arcade could be more interesting. He hadn’t been to one of those since he was a little kid. He had gone with his mother when he was around ten. Adeline, his sister, didn’t get to go because she was sick. It had been a fond memory with his mom, until he remembered the black peeper that she was given afterwards due to her spending too much mint cheddar on him. He didn’t want to think about that. “Let’s do the gas station,” he decided on quickly.

If Kohen knew who the person walking by his side was, there would have definitely been some hesitance there to get even remotely close to him, the faint bruising on his neck from that moonlit hours being a pain to explain to his father. This has never happened before! You don't fight them! He had said to which Kohen had rolled his peepers to. If only he knew.

"Gas station it is," Kohen said, hiding his excitement of imagining the absolute giant cup of a slushie that he would get.
"I come to that bean soup shop now and again, not frequently, but I've never seen you around before. Do you live around here?" Kohen casually questioned, trying to learn more about the guy and his fighting abilities- that part really seemed to have piqued his interest.
"Do you go to any of the boxing clubs? I used to have two friends who went but stopped going when they went to guild of scholars" Got pretty lonely around here… He wanted to say but refrained from doing so. There was no use ruminating over the fact that he had been left behind with his shit dad and basically cried himself to sleep every moonlit hours.
No.
No one needed to know that. It was a stoopid thought.
As they walked and Kohen kept talking, they passed by the house where the man had died that moonlit hours. They had put yellow police tape around the property as they investigated, it was still there at the moment, but the house itself had been cleared out. Kohen was almost a hundred percent sure that if you went into the bedroom, you'd still see the stains from the human syrup, though, the floor would get ripped out and replaced eventually.

Vaughn had noticed the faint bruising on Kohen’s neck. He guessed it had faded over the past couple of days, and that worried him. He hadn’t realized that he had choked the other so aggressively. All he had wanted to do was pin Kohen down, that was all. Maybe he did have a stronger grip than he realized, or maybe he got caught up in the moment with the adrenaline.

When asked about where he lived, he had to think quickly on his groundhands. He thought of himself to be a decent liar, having learned how to do so well throughout foster care. “Yeah, I have an apartment in the city. I go to that bean soup shop around once a week. It’s a bit far, but worth it for the quiet,” he answered. As they walked, he still had a faint limp in his step like he did the moonlit hours of the mucduc. It wasn’t as prominent, but still there. The wound on his thigh was looking much better, though not fully healed. “What about you? Do you live around here?”

“I don’t go to any clubs, no. Just one of the gyms downtown,” he said. He looked like someone who worked out frequently, and he did, just not in the most conventional way. It took a lot of strength to be able to kill a grown man with any sort of weapon or bare hands. He had gained quite a decent amount of muscle mass from doing so over the orbit parties.

When they passed by the house, Vaughn stared at it closely, unable to peel his gaze away. What had happened there was nothing short of a nightmare, and he was happy to see that it was cleansed. “Hear about what happened there? bonkers shit, huh?” he commented, ripping his peepers away from the house and down to Kohen. He was trying to gauge his reaction and pick up on any recollection. It made him nervous, though. Would thinking about the house help Kohen to remember his voice? He surely hoped not.