bloodblades | Meme, the 1st: Snowed in with an Idiot

Crow's used to a lot of things. As a high-ranking smuggler in the Wastelands he has to be, special powers or not. He's seen some shit. Been responsible directly or not-so-indirectly for even more. But y'see, his thing is more or less fire. There's not much water left in the shithole that was once the world, never think about it being freezing cold.

Which in summary means that his hole-riddled brain is currently pretty overtaxed trying to cope with the situation he's in.

Snowed in.

How the hell do you even get snowed in into a house out of all things??!

The last he knows he's been resting the night while there was a pretty intense thunderstorm outside and now the world's much too fucking bright 'n white. And cold! Crow was never much of fan for the scorching desert sun, but he at least knows how to deal with it. But how is he supposed to deal with all this frickin white cold?! There's only so much wood for the fire that's warming this hut and the old guy who's running this ramshackle place hasn't returned from his promised short trip to get more since at least half a day. If you ask Crow he's probably dead. Which means...

"I don't feel like freezing my ass off here till we're dead. I'll be going now."

Declaring his intent for whoever cares to save their skin with him he steps to the door and yanks it it. A huge white wall greets him.

" . . . . . "

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Alex hadn’t been expecting to be trapped on her first time traveling out in the world, kind of defeats the purpose of it all. It’s much colder than she’s accustomed to, the weather not getting this extreme in Ergastulum even. So when the one other guy there decides he’s going to brave the ridiculous storm you could see—- or could see before the windows were covered with snow, she opens her mouth to stop him.

Although it seems she didn’t have to.

“Um…could you please c-close the door? The cold’s c-coming in.” And her teeth are already starting to chatter.

Crow ignores the request with his usual wild grin plastered onto his face. Truth be told he has no clue how to deal with this... white... wall, but he figures that if in doubt his usual method will prevail. Raw. Force.

Red blades flash in each of his hands before he leaps to attack the snow.

And sinks in.

Soon even his giant shaggy mane of hair is gone, although the snow still moves sometimes.

Swords suddenly form in his hands, but more than that, Alex is more stunned at the face that he might—- No, he wouldn’t—-

But he does.

She’s silent, still for a moment, waiting for some kind of movement. But there isn’t, and now she’s standing upright, rushing towards the snow and peeking through the man shaped hole made in it.

“H-hey! Are you okay!?”

He is used to being able to slice anything. Anything.

Even if his blades don't leave deadly cuts his devilman ability to leave wounds that will never stop bleeding unless he wills it so usually gives him the upper hand. This time though.... His idea that cutting the snow and letting it bleed will be the same as simply melting it are met with a cold, clinging nope from the real world. Physics. Plans. Crow is not good with either of them, rather learning by doing and then doing all over again, but as he starts hacking out snow he quickly realizes one thing.

He needs to get back out of there!

So he jumps. And jumps again. Each leap gets him a brief break of air before he vanishes in the snow again, just a few steps closer to the saving door. When he gets close enough he reaches out with a bladeless arm.

"Hand!"

Alex almost falls back when an arm suddenly shoots out right in her face, yelping rather ungracefully in shock. But she manages to collect herself, using both of hers to grab onto his and tug with all her little might. God was this man stuck there!

The heels of her boots slide against the floor comically as she tries to back up faster and faster until there's some give.

"Almost..!"

It takes a lot of wriggling and tugging but finally Crow pops free. He clambers out of the snow much like an indignant cat, cursing and brushing the clinging cold stuff off, effectively getting it everywhere. Giving the door a look of disgust he kicks it back shut.

"Bah! The stuff is that powdery that not even a fish could swim through it!" Not that he made a sliiiight miscalculation, no sir!

Giving her a notably more interested once over than before he shrugs his shoulders and bares his teeth in a fanged smile that's all predator. His eyes are genuine and at least not unfriendly, though.

"You helped me. Guess I owe you one in return now."

A veritable pot of gold, considering that he's a smuggler. Deals and similar exchanges are honor-bounds.

He really did look like a cat that regretted its choices. But it was the snow’s fault, of course.

“It’s no big deal…” She just responds with an awkward laugh. Not anything life changing enough to be considered a debt. And…she’s not sure she has anything that require his particular set of skills.

“You should get in front of the fire and warm up. You’ve still go snow sticking to you.” Her tone is almost scolding, moving behind him to try and pat off the rest of it while she kicks the door shut behind them.

“Maybe just don’t try that again.”

He makes a noise between a scoff and a laugh as if she had said something incredibly funny, which considering his penchant for amnesia, maybe she did. But she doesn't need to know about that.

"I'll try, if I don't forget about it."

He lets her pat him down and herd him like a schoolboy without any complaints, though he tilts his head at her indirect refusal and care for a stranger. Especially the latter is ....odd? Most people he knows would consider killing and robbing each other about now. But maybe she still needs him somehow? Or she's just one of those helplessly idealistic, genuinely good people. That'd be bad. It's always a pity those never last long.

"No need to worry too much about it. I'm a smuggler, so I don't die easily. And you should think about that offer again. Having a smuggler owe you can be very useful, even if you don't need any weapons or gear." It's also that he's just programmed to consider this a deal and keep up his end of it. One help for a help. 'tis should be fair.

She doesn't stop brushing him off until he sits in front of the fire place, the realization that she had been patting down a smuggler hitting her just now. Now she's questioning her decisions.

Taking a seat herself (at a safe distance), Alex does rethink the offer while peering over at him.

"What kind of gear?"

"Suddenly interested after all, huh?" He preens a little because his goods are top-class. He isn't the number 4 smuggler in the whole Organization just for laughs, after all. Both his good and his services are outstanding, even though he neither scams nor does any assassination work.

Showing a proud toothy smirk that he mistakes for a smile, he pats first his cloak and then the sleek black case he always carried with him.

"I've god clothes like this here. Light, easy to move in, fire-resistant and tough enough to even protect you from small caliber projectiles. The warranty only goes for the body parts that you're actually protecting with them, though, so no takeback if you go and catch a bullet with your head. Not that I'm overly worried about that with you~"

Pressing a button he slides a drawer within the case open. "Besides the usual weapons and handy-sized knives I've also got smoke screen grenades, belts, shirts, pants, a couple of shirts, gloves, some light boots, maintenance stuff for weapons... the usual." Picking up a single fork, he furrows his head because how did his personal cutlery end up in this compartment?

Meme, the 1st: Snowed in with an Idiot

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