I will find him(Open/Timey)

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Spoiler:

Gliding within the sky, Lorelei and Dementia swoop down into a ally way. Landing upon the ground, the woman`s doll removed her arms from around Lorelei`s waist. The large wings made of iron sand sink back into her frame, giving her the appearance she had before. "So, why the hell did you make us leave? I was having fun toying with the boy; who was that on the phone?" Dementia questioned while Lorelei dust herself off. Looking over his shoulder, she formed a malicious smirk. "Well, that was Demetri, the guy I met when I traveled through Europe. You know that bount, Alister? He had the doll, Kein. You know, the large lion humanoid that you had a crush on." she paused for a moment to snicker at her mentioning of Dementia`s feelings towards the other doll.

Narrowing her eyes, Dementia gave what could be labeled as the "Ice Glare". "Anyway, I had him monitor Alister`s movements. And though he did seem to drop from the face of the earth, Demetri found him. Believe it or not, Like us, he is traveling through this area. I hear he is a on his way to Naruki, which means. We can finally get the answers we need, and you can meet Kein again. Haha. I also plan on putting him in his place. His power is not as great as he makes it out to be. And he knows it." she gripe while loking back on their first encounter. The older bount treated her as if she was a weak child, which did not sit well with Lorelei, whom will prove to the male, that he is not as strong as he claim to be. Looking to Dementia, her glare did not waiver. Hr gaze shifted to the side, trying to hide the fact that she did like Kein, for reasons she will not disclose. "Ugh, I don`t give a damn about that overgrown pussy cat. Unlike you, you would of jump at the bit to get in bed with Alister. You are such a slut." with a certain growl in her tone, she cross her arms across her chest and look to the side.

"As expected, you are still mad that the overgrown pussy cat turned you down when you made your move on him. I wouldn`t touch that bastard if someone paid me, well, depends on how much, but still. He`s a douchbag, and I have the right mind to slit his throat for treating me with such disrespect. No one does that, well there is you, but I can take that, since you have issues." Turning her back to Dementia, she decidd it to be best to hurry up and blend in, just in case the fullbringer were follow them. "Whatever. I`m going back to my sealed form, small breasted whore bag." she insulted. Seconds later, her body broke down and flowed through the air and to the neck of Lorelei. Forming back into her sealed form, a black pendant shape like a crystal. "Whatever." she stated as she surpressedher spiritual pressure and headed into the crowd. Only to stop and enter a clothing shop.

Even with extensive training, supressed spiritual pressure was still supressed. An inexperienced individual –a human at that – would have little hope of differentiating anyone hiding via this method from the rest of the crowd. If any at all. However, Charles was not a Bount hunter, nor did he even know they exist. He considered vampires – or beings resembling vampires, if you wish to nitpick – a myth. Folktales, used to scare children into behaving. No, the reason he was there, was far more banal – he needed to pick up something at the post office there.

Having nobody with him, the closest he came to conversation was musing to himself, attempting to think of creative ways to dispatch Hollows, both swiftly and quietly. Of course, given their limitless array of forms, it would have to be something exploiting their universal traits, and this made things s lot more complicated than they should be. The incessant noise, shifty-looking people and the odd – yet familiar – stench all contributed to him not having a clue about how to deal with them beyond the standard.

The smell was really starting to get at him, though. He knew that smell from somewhere – he was so obsessed with remembering, he failed to eavesdrop on the Bount he passed by, hurriedly pacing ahead of her, quietly mumbling incoherently to himself. He would likely be severely disappointed if he found out a new Indian restaurant had been set up in the area, but given that the last one had been closed due to lack of customers, this option seemed highly unlikely.

After cheking out the merchandice, she decided to leave the store. She was dissapointed at the fact that she could not find a outfit that suited her. But since there was a outfit or attire that fits her, she decided to find another store instead. Blending back in with the crowd a spark seem to go off in her head, as she could feel a faint/surpress spiritual pressure. But being mix in with such a crowd, there was no way of figuring out where it was coming from. She just hope that it wasn`t the fullbringer from before, he was a annoying pest that Lorelei did not like one bit. She did not like those that interject themselves into her affairs. Even if she was partaking in some acts of theivery, she feels that it is no one`s buisness but her own.

It seem Dementia was keeping good on her words, she was silent, she did not even speak telapthically to Lorelei. This was something she did whenever she was mad, the silent treatment was something she was not very good at using. Lorelei could, she had once kept silent for two days straight. Which was definently something that Dementia did not like, and now she is using it herself. "Hmm, I wonder if these shops have anything worth looking at? A beautiful specimen such as myself, should only dress in things that are elgant and sexual." she stated in a hush tone. Dementia would usually comment with a little dig at Lorelei`s weight, but since she was keeping with the silent treatment she did not say a word. This was something Lorelei was not use to, she loved it. Dementia was always annoying at times, and spoke to much. With the silence she now had, she felt free.

As it turned out, it wasn't another Indian restaurant. Instead, it was a fairly inconspicuous-looking burger stand, an odd sight in a place like this. However, it did not strike the boy as odd, as he seemed transfixed on the smell. A normally intelligent and overthinking young lad, the fact that he was breaking thought patterns halfway through because of the stand's scent was strange - to say the least. On a whim, despite the apparent shabbiness of the establishment, Charles decided to buy something. It was cheap, and the food looked greasy. he figured it wouldn't hurt, not this once.

As it turned out, it had quite a chance of hurting. When he reached for the burger, he noticed something odd. Or, rather, his instincts did. An anomaly was detected - a faint blip on the radar, but considering the object that he sensed had a slightly higher spirit pressure than that of the average human, was the burger itself. Now, he figured out a few possible explanations, but they all led to the same thing. Don't touch the food.

"That smell... Those are... Those are pheromones. That;s not an ordinary burger. This is a trap."
The man working the stall frowned - or, rather, the Hollow made it look like he was frowning. "Oh, don't waste your energy, just come out and fight. It doesn't work if I know what you're doing."
It was lucky nobody else was in the immediate area - well, he thought there was nobody, at least. Drawing his bow, an arrow pierced through the imagined stand, the confirmation of its nonexistence serving to lift one effect of the pheromone.

Anyone even remotely spiritually aware could sense that there was going to be a fight. Between a schoolboy and a trickster, no less.

Coming up to another shop, the preview attire within the window panals took her interest. Finding the outfits cute, she entered inside the shop. With a widen view, shelook over the shop before heading to one of the first racks. Looking through the outfits, she look for the ones that were her size, six. When she didn`t find something that interested her, she made way to another rack. It wasn`t long before she began to find outfits that fit her style. One outfit in particular took her. A pair of black jeans, a red top, and a black jacket. Seeing how dark colors are what fit her interest, she took the outfit into the dressing room. Switching into the outfit, she admired herself in the mirror. Switching to different poses, she like it so much, that she decided to wear it while buying it. Exiting the dressing rom, she came up to the counter. "Yeah, I am buying the outfit I am wearing. So, yeah, check it and what not with your little scanner." with a narrowed glare, the female cashier scanned the tag and pulled up the price. "Damn! $278.76? I swear you stores are ripping us off. Ugh, fine." reaching into her bra, she removed a handful of cash. Counting the bills with her fingers, she gave the female $280, and was given her change. "Yeah, thanks." she stated as she was handed a bag. Putting her old attire into the bag, she took her exit from the shop. Sensing two spiritual pressures, she decided to head into a near-by ally-way.

Seconds later, she appeared on the roof of one of the buildings. Sitting down at the edge of the roof, as her eyes narrowed onto the quincy and the disguised hollow. "Interesting, a Disguised Hollow, and a quincy. Marvelous, a new outfit and a show. What else could a girl ask for?" a smile formed across her lips as her eyes set on the two. Tossing back locks of her hair, she inhaled for a moment, only to exhale seconds later. "Hey! Fat ass, are you still giving me the silent treatment?" she called out to Dementia in the same tone as she always did. She did not recieve a reply, it seem Dementia was still mad from Lorelei`s earlier taunting. "I guess so. I`m so surprised that even you could keep your mouth shut for so long. Probaly fantasizing about Kein. a chuckled followed as Dementia still kept quiet. Shrugging, she decided to just continue watching the bout, in hopes of seeing something entertaining.

The warped screech of a Hollow sounded, and its head rose from the ground, realising disguise was useless. Its low-level trickery was not going to work now that Charles was expecting it, but that was not to say it couldn't hold its own in battle. In fact, it was quite able, though that was likely more down to the fact that its opponent was a ranged fighter, as opposed to making things up-close and personal.

A biped, the mustard-skinned beast took a swing at Charles, attempting to knock him to the floor. However, this was a highly predictable move, one which was ducked under, and promptly countered with a pair of arrows embedding themselves in the hand of his assailant. A guttural shriek of pain tore through the air, but the only response this got was an irritated 'Oh, shut up...' and another pair of arrows.

The fight continued like this for about a minute, but it was pretty clear the Quincy was just toying with his prey. He had no real reason for doing this, other than observing his prey. This Hollow was different from all the rest, largely, allowing it a place in his journal at home, where he would document its combat habits and the pheromones it had released to lure him in. He could finish it at any time - and, with a single, well-placed shot between the eyes, he did.

"It used pheromones. Released them into the air, mixed with a substance capable of inducing weak delirium. Simple enough to resist, with some willpower, but not if you don't expect it. I'll have to keep my guard up more often. I don't think you have such a trouble, though. What, you think I wouldn't notice you, there?"

The Hollow, barrelling towards Charles, had only been knocked down by the arrow to its face. Evidently, he had been subconsciously trying to keep himself hidden, having become more used to a 'hunter' style of Hollow dispatching. However, now that he was forcing himself to just let go, the lion-sized beast received a Seele Scneider up through its gullet, for all its trouble. Stopping inches from Charles' face, the Hollow's maw opened before his face, before it was flicked on the forehead - seemingly pushing it into destruction.

Replacing the emergency melee weapon on his belt, Charles turned back, his eyes brimming with a burning boredom. The Hollow had not been much of a challenge - it was a low-level one at best. Instead, he decided to make an offensive comment towards Loreli. Not that he cared about not being helped - and him being taunted was something he had learnt not to bother responding to. Used up too much energy, or so he said.
"Expensive doesn't always mean attractive, Blondie."

Smirking a little, the boy paced away from the scene, going purposefully slowly in order to allow himself to catch her reaction. If any. If she wanted a war of the words, he would give her Hell – or, he hoped he would. It wasn’t like him to start fights out of boredom, but all things considered, this was likely the most entertainment he was going to get for the time being. He would have made fun of her wait, but he had to be sure his attacks would work, or he would not execute them – unless there was no other choice.

In a taunting fashion, the female bount clap slowly after the male defeated the hollow. It was her way of being sarcastic, seeing how anyone with a decent level of power could take out a hollow of such power. Lowering her hands to her chest, she ran her fingers through her hair. Bringing the hair back while strands fell back into the place in front of her face. Her eyes would soon narrow as her hand lowered from her face. Hearing the male`s snarky comment, she decided to toy with the male. Falling forward from the edge, she grab a hold of her bag, flipping within the air until she landed on her feet. Now in a squat like position, the female slowly raised to her full height. Flipping back her hair, she began to dust off her newly bought attire.

"Expensive does not mean attractive." she repeated the boys comment. Her attention was mainly on her attire, while she spoke to the male. "You have a point, but usually, pitiful idiots only make such comments. Its obvious you no nothing of style, how pitiful. Then again, jusging by your looks, the most wealthiest outfit would not make you attractive, to anyone. Now, that is just sad." taking another dig at the quincy. The boy had made a fatal mistake, he purposely made a snarky comment. This allowed Lorelei to did what she did perfectly, insult the boy to no end. One would label her as a "Troll", instigating a altercation or argument with witty comments and insults, which takes digs at those she does them against. It was something she loved doing, just to get a reaction.

"Ah, but you judge me by appearance, and nothing else. To me, this just proves to me how shallow you are, with little concept of a person's worth outside of their financial state, or their appearance. I may not have the looks of a god, but what does appearance matter on the battlefield if the job is completed? Your conceited attitude is amusing. Please, allow me to gaze into the mind of such a self-assured egotist, whose entire view of the world seems to revolve around the top being worn."
Appearance was superficial to Charles – he thought nothing of what he looked like, only tidying himself up to be considered socially acceptable. Her digs at his appearance would have little to no effect, and the way he responded only seemed to confirm this. That aside, he did not need to concern himself over trivial matters of appearance, nor did he even bother to think about whether she was stronger than him in terms of ability. However, if she were to resort to displaying overwhelming power, in his eyes, it would only further his claims that she was shallow – to be basing an opinion off of somebody based on their strength alone did not make them a better person, so he thought.

It had to be said, though – Charles was a strange boy. If he ever did encounter a troll, he would privately laugh at how pathetic they were. And, despite all common sense, eh fed them. Only nibbles – not enough to work them up, most of the time, but enough to lead them into further humiliating themselves. Feigning folly, he would make them seem like they were winning, then cut them down before leaving courteously.
Afterwards, he usually celebrated with a cup of mango juice.

If it was any other female, the males harsh words would hurt her feelings. But when it came to Lorelei, she honestly did not care. The male was mainly overly assuming such things, since she really dd not have interest in most males. Were looks a factor? In some ways, yes. Did Lorelei care much for them? No. But it was fun to let the male think she did. "Ouch! Now, that was mean. How pathetic, you are a walking contradiction. You assume to much, not my fault you are un-attractive, you shouldn`t be so rude, especially to a female. Didn`t your mother teach you better? It doesn`t matter, insults do not really effect me." this would be the time where Dementia made her apperance and put in her two cents. As well as take digs at the male, but her temper has yet to settle. Which was something Lorelei really did not care to much about, not a the moment at least.

"Let me guess. As a kid, you were pick on alot. The other kids found you odd, and the girls found you repulsive, correct? And as you grew, their oppinions did not falter, you were still repulsive looking to the females, and the rest continued to insult you to no end. That is why you have such a strong opinion about those that are super-ficial. But you see, you made a mistake. You assumed to early. Why i do find you utterly repulsive, that does not mean I am super-ficial. What is wrong with adding a new attire to the few I already have? Am I suppose to dress like yourself? That would be horrible, I wouldn`t want people thinking I was a Homeless Person. Wait, are you homeless? I am so sorry, I did not mean to poke at your, disability? Wait, wrong word. Umm, your, Complicated Living Arrangement? Yeah, lets go with that. Well, I at leats no now why you look so horrid. Well, clothing wise at least, when it comes to looks, that`s just bad genetics. I do hope your parents stop having kids with you, has he? Please say yes, unless your mom slept with someone with good genes, I doubt your sibling or siblings, would turn out well in the looks department as well. Poor kids." when it came to insulting, it was rather easy. It flowed out of her, effortlessly, it seems she just had a knact for hurting other people`s feelings.

“You accuse me of contradiction and over-assuming, yet you hurl accusations at me with little evidence given to back yourself up. Girls found me repulsive, yes – but I was five at the time. Girls and boys tend not to mix at that age. Something about a cootie epidemic, as the Yanks call it. I was not a social prostitute – sorry, butterfly – but I tended to have better things to do, such as preparing to destroy Hollows where they stand, and document them in order to prove to the incompetent Shinigami the Quincy’s superiority. But enough about me. Let’s see about you.”

Though not so much a trump card as a party trick, Charles had grown to be observant, and not just of his foes. He could take a look at a person, and while his deductions were never on the level of, say, Sherlock Holmes, he was still able to build a rudimentary picture of someone. Scanning his eyes over Loreli for a moment, he contemplated, and spoke again – his monotone voice carrying the slightest hint of venom.

“Your accent. German, though not recognisably so, and with twinges not of this day and age. Your spiritual pressure is on-existent – it’s not a matter of seeing what’s there, it’s about seeing what isn’t. The eyes and hair – I’d say it was just a coincidence, but given your speech and the fact that you are obviously able to conceal yourself, I’d say it was something more. Conclusion? You’re a victim of the Holocaust, despite having the necessary visual traits, likely due to ‘impure’ genes. Your lack of action suggests you’re either a Shinigami hoping the Hollow took me out or a coward. I’m having trouble differentiating, as you’re a possibly paedophilic individual who seems unable to even scratch the composure of a schoolboy at least three times younger than you. Am I wrong?”

He had known through simple deduction - she was older than she looked, if her mannerisms said anything, and her way of speaking was not modern German, it was more like a person in the nineteen-forties. To someone like him, who observed all he could, and knew what it was like to be lied to, he could see past her defences. She was acting like an amateur, underestimating him. Young did not mean foolish - he had trained for six years, and not just in the art of war. He loved to pick people apart – if he could not win with power, he would with words.

“Please, my people were arrogant, back then. They misunderstood their strengths – just because we were numerous, did not mean we were powerful. We should have operated from the shadows, cutting our enemies down, little by little, turning their caution to paranoia. I do not admire the Quincies, but I pride myself on being one. If you think you’re so skilled, and so powerful, come at me – wield your weapon and defy me. Strike me down if you must. But, I have one condition – will you please stop tapping while I’m talking?”

One two three four.
One two three four.
A rapid succession of four beats, though it sounded more like a snare drum than hands on a wall. He was hearing the sound of drums – his first guess was that someone was playing one, but there was nobody close enough to make such a sound. He then assumed it was Loreli, but was doubtful that she was the one making the noise. If it wasn’t anyone there, then something was wrong. Residual pheromones were something that could explain it temporarily, but if it continued, that would be different.

“Oh? How would you know if it’s pencil-like? Have you been looking? You’re only supporting my claims that you are, in fact, a paedophile. But enough talk. Have at you!”
Drawing his bow, Charles took aim, notching two arrows instead of one. Granted, doing this practically guaranteed they would never fly straight, and that their power would be reduced significantly. However, that was entirely the point. It was simple – his arrows, while fast, were not instant-hits. Therefore, to land successive attacks, he would have to lead the target, predicting their movements, backing them into a corner before they realised that they were being trapped. What he lacked in muscle, he made up for in tactics.

The arrows were let loose, and began their flight. Their trajectory suggested that they would fly either side of Loreli, missing by about half an inch. He was simply scouting for reactions, and if she moved, all the better. He’d learnt to calculate the time, the distance and the general statistics of his arrows, and though not an expert at leading targets, he hit more than he missed. And, just for luck, he notched another two, and fired them off in much the same manner. He couldn’t afford to scout for long, but while he could, he would.

One two three four.
One two three four.
One two three four.
One two three four.

Charles dodged the majority of the needles, having leapt haphazardly to the side. However, some caught him regardless, prompting the expected spurts of blood.
Or, at least, this was what it looked like.
In reality, only one had caught him, and even then, it had not done enough damage to his calf to be considered anything more than an annoyance – at best. However, the blood capsules he burst made it look as if he had been hit. It was a one-time trick only, and didn’t work on those able to see through simple ruses. He had no doubt his opponents would simply laugh off his trick. However, that was what he was counting on.

If they were as arrogant as he thought, they would be occupied for a moment, just to mock him for his sheer lack of tact. He worked on that assumption, but it was a terrible plan nonetheless. He had nothing better, though, until he could find an area where he could attack from the shadows. A large clump of trees was nearby, enough for his purposes – it was just a matter of luring her into there, and hoping she didn’t destroy every tree in sight.

Quick as a Wild West novel’s gunslinger, he notched an arrow and fired it, at a speed that made him seem like the arrow was there already. The Sanrei glove training was what had made him like this –he drew arrows without even thinking, now. It was an instinctive reaction, branded into his subconscious. With any luck, his target would be at least phased by his shot – if not, he’d have to bluff his way out.

The drum beat in his head wasn’t helping at all.

Though he rejoiced in having his attack land successfully, he did not make the mistake of celebrating. After all, it had been his trick that was reliant upon them doing the same thing. Instead, he manoeuvred so his back was to the trees, edging backwards – to most, it would look like hi preparing for an inevitable counter-attack. While it was true he was preparing, he was not preparing to counter-attack – he was the one who would be attacking, his arrows coming out of every shadow, every corner, every inch of any potential hiding spot.

The katana slices coming at him weren’t particularly skilful, but they would still be deadly. They were beginning to get their priorities right, in his view – they were exploiting his lack of close-combat ability. Granted, he had his Seele Schneiders, but he was keeping them at his belt for the time being. He needed the most opportune time to release them, and obliterate his foe. He kept moving backwards, but the kick was too quick for him to dodge. He assumed a basic kick-boxing guard, with his forearms taking the brunt of the attack, but this did not cancel knockback. Charles stumbled backwards but he never left himself truly open. He suspected they would try to move in close, it was only natural, as it was the most effective way to cancel his arrows out.

Composure was regained, though it would take a moment or two to fully recover. His bow was once again aimed, and though the arrow was at its standard power, he wasn’t aiming particularly well. He fired multiple arrows as he moved backwards, exaggerating his movements at times, even going so far as to change his facial expression. Fighting, for him, wasn’t just about strength. You had to mess with your opponent’s head. Prediction is key – one of the few things his father hadn’t let him find out for himself.

Charles smirked – he knew arrows. He knew flight paths. He had practised long and hard for the day that he would have to remove his Sanrei glove, but continue his career as a Quicny. He had dodged countless arrows shot at him, and though he had the scars to show they had hit, there was no denying that his skill at dodging them was honed. However, honed as his skill at evading was, there were four arrows shot at him in quick succession. This would be tricky, to say the least.

By dodging to the left, the first three arrows were proven ineffectual – however, he wasn’t quick enough to get completely out of the way of the fourth. The projectile glanced his side, drawing blood. It was not an especially deep wound, but it was enough to shake Charles, and leave his composure at its current state. His enemies were far more versatile, but they seemed to have a sort of pattern to their attacks. He couldn’t figure it out, but there was something consistent about how they fought, about the attacks they launched. He was yet to figure it out, but for the moment, he kept up his bluff.

To anyone else, he looked weak, and weakening. To anyone else, his exasperated breaths were showing his lack of stamina. In reality, he was only beginning. He couldn’t fight head-on – so what if he was caught with his pants down? He’d use his next deadliest weapon. His opponent’s mind. Their own habits and abilities, all used to his advantage. Assuming he hadn’t been killed by that point, anyway. Taking care to preserve energy, Charles fired off a few arrows, deliberately just off-target – pride always comes before a fall, they say.

The ruse was working – they were falling for his act. He was feigning weakness, evidently better than he himself thought he could. He was in their heads, making them believe what he wanted, and this almost made him smirk. Almost – he had to keep up the act, as even the slightest of sparks in his eyes could give the whole game away, disrupting the plan.

Charles was dependent upon his bow remaining usable - he had not mastered the Ransōtengai technique, only studied it. His ability with it was pathetic at best, only capable of moving him a few shaky steps in one direction. As such, defending his left arm became a huge priority, to the point of him firing off an arrow to knock the incoming javelin off of its mark. Unfortunately, this also meant he did not have time to dodge the needle barrage properly, and as such, his left thigh was peppered with blows. He could still stand, and he could do his best to phase out the pain, but now that his movement was hindered so severely, it would be difficult to dodge any further attacks.

And this was more of a problem than most would think – he would have to get crafty to get to where he was going, even if it was but a few metres away. And, though he had hit the javelin, it was still on course to him, and left quite a sizeable gash in his left forearm. He grunted with the pain, unable to supress it as thoroughly, having no painkillers except his own determination, and natural adrenaline. In his desperation, he withdrew the bow, instead drawing a Seel Schneider from his belt, holding it in a one-armed defensive stance. He would have to parry attacks – he couldn’t afford blood loss or additional strain to his left arm until he had reached the trees. He couldn’t parry every attack, but once he was a meter away from the trees, he figured he could use knockback to feign defeat, and then launch a barrage of arrows.