they argued my right to ascension

The brilliant gold of his gaze continues to rest upon the woman beneath that fringe of equally golden hair, the youthful looking man allowing his eyes to trail languidly across her slender, appealing figure and yet the very nature of her species assured his mind travelled no further as surely any other man's would at the sight of such a woman. He had already allowed himself to falter in that department before he had held no desire to do so again. He has been without a partner for near thirty years now, content to last as long as physically capable before finding either a human or hunter woman willing to warm his bed for the evening. It was by no means an enjoyable existence, more so, it was a simple necessity, a craving of sorts for contact beyond violent intent that drove him to seek another, if only for just one night- one he is loath to submit to all the same and yet- Hunter or not he is still very much a man and some things remain unchanged, regardless of the species- or the age. The pleasantness of her features however, are ignored for now, tall, athletic formed appearing almost languid in the callous way he peruses her makeshift stall with a manner that betrays his true belief on it all the same. The man decidedly unimpressed- though some inclination of amusement seems to exist behind his gaze all the same, as if he finds some wayward pleasure in his hunt. Perhaps he has too- to think to deeply upon his actions results in nothing but a complication of morals he has no desire to delve into. It is easier to believe them prey, to believe them unholy and inhuman- incapable of the same fear and pain and anguish as himself. It made them easier to destroy if he simply separated them from himself, separated his work from his own being before it consumed him entirely.

Her words seem to draw his attention more firmly upon her, gaze returning to her own with cool precision as the smile upon her lips falters as her form surely begins to scream at every part of her being to flee in an act of self-preservation from the predator that stands before her. A few humans have paused to watch, aware of Azrael perhaps, those whom lived in this area having become used to their local Hunter and his actions- the man an unwilling hero amongst them, a defender of their weak and feeble forms. More prominent however, are the other supernaturals attempting to slip away, diving back into the crowd and scurrying for the back alleys- none willing to stand against the angelic blonde for a girl they hardly know. It always was amusing to watch them flee like the insects they were. Salem witch trials? He manages a soft huff of sorts, lip quirking slightly upward upon his handsome features into a look almost serene.

"I have no intention of putting you on trial. I know what you are."

A trial offered some insinuation of a jury and a judge, Azrael rather assured that in this moment he was all these things as the woman chewed upon her lip in a manner that may well have been....sweet- had he been inclined to think such a thing of a servant of the devil. Her laugh is light, carefree- as if she cannot believe the allegations he holds against her, as if she is merely the victim of an amusing case of mistaken identity. He knows however, as every Hunter knows, that he stands before a supernatural, one seemingly determined to argue otherwise. Perhaps he should allow her little charade to continue- if only for the vague moment of amusement it provides in his otherwise dreary day. A herbal tea? He allows his features to form a frown once more, eyeing the vial she produces, form tensing ever so slightly, a move near imperceptible at such an action. He is...wary of witchcraft, has seen what it can do and as such he remains wary of the girl all the same as he allows her to continue to attempt to sell him some sort of....ridiculous tea. If she wanted to place this game- so be it, did she truly believe she was fooling him? Hmm, we would see. His gaze flicks smoothly away from her own, form seeming to relax now as if he holds true interest in the vial she holds, one hand reaching out every so smoothly to take it from her- turning it over within his hands in apparent curiosity.

"Scullcap is something of an herbal tranquiliser, particularly when mixed with Valerian. Traditionally, it was used to treat nervousness and anxiety â€" along with irritability. Are you accusing me of being irritable?"

He glances upward once more, a soft chuckle humming within his throat as he moves to hand the vial smoothly back to her.

"I was a doctor- once."

It is all he offers, words cryptic in a sense, though betraying that he is perhaps far older then he appears as he moves to stride smoothly past her and towards her table, toned frame moving to lean against it now as long fingers drum against the surface of it and one long limb folds over the other.

"Your sleeping potion doesn't capture my attention. If you can convince me to buy something I might be convinced to......let you continue, shall we say. Go on, let's see you try, I rather liked your sales pitch. As I said though, I was a doctor- if you lie to me about the properties of any of your herbs I will know- and I won't be impressed."

It would be almost amusing really, to see her attempt to sell something as if her life depended on it. She wanted to play a game didn't she? He was merely playing it back.

Azrael Evero

only fools walk where angels fear to tread