"Azrael rambles because he hasn't been laid in a year. I think that's why he's so tense all the time."

I managed a shrug all the same, oblivious to the fact the man may well have not actually anticipated I would hear his offhanded comment. It was a side effect I suppose, of having a mind afflicted with OCD and ADD- thoughts chaotic and unstoppable, running through my brain far faster than even I could cope half of the time. It was...painful at the best of times, my mind holding rather an agitating capacity to jump from one thing to another, often forgetting I had not filled in the people around me on my new plan. It is fortunate suppose that sex really is quite a good distraction, my mind so focused on the woman that I tend to forget to think about anything else. I have always appreciated woman, they are ever so useful for more then one release and I am rather assured that is the reason Azrael spends most of his time storming around. I wonder if he knows you can pay women to do that sort of thing for you. Not really my style but then again so few actually possess my talents in that area. At his comment about vintage I think I actually managed to lift one eye in mild disagreement. Vintage...really?

"Unattractive patterns, outdated hats and aged clothing it not a good thing- although if that is what you prefer I suppose that is your choice."

I half anticipated the man would argue, after all, I don't tend to get on with other men very well- although perhaps my tendency to...liberate their girlfriends is what so seems to induce them to rage. What? Why should a woman suffer when I am more then willing to assist them? At least I was, before Kat. Why the man refused to take off his shoes I truly have no idea, my teeth setting on edge at even the sound of his less the hygienic shoes actually touching my floors. I was...never going to recover form this, half intending to find a piece of scrap paper to put beneath his shoes in an effort to act as a barrier between them and my floor. Although....I don't think I actually own scrap paper. Maybe I don't even own paper.... I managed to shift my thoughts away from it for now, making rather a wide berth around the shoe prints I was pretending not to see, sweat already having begun to form across my forehead in the effort it took not to attempt to clean immedietly, pulling my Ray Bans back over the blue gold of my gaze and plunging the world into very near darkness. Like a racehorse with blinkers, forcing my mind to focus on only one thing, blocking the rest of the world out. Maybe my doctors didn't feel it was a very healthy coping mechanism but really, sunglasses were better then countless drugs that made me feel.....exhausted to take. Sedation never really was my style.

The man at least managed to make the little steel cards I asked for as I followed him towards my dining room table, easily setting up my laptop once more as he asked for an expliantion. I suppose he was owed that- even despite his destruction of my floor and his sneezing. God- he was a bacteria trap. It was a reaction I suppose, one performed without any true thought, hand reaching for a can of antibacterial spray (I had one in every room, call me prepared) pausing long enough to spray it around him in an effort to eliminate god knows what he brought in here, flashing him a grin all the same.

"My compulsiveness means I am very really incorrect in my work and that everything is done to a high standard- don't knock a good thing."

It was so very easier to turn his own words against him, flicking them back with a casual ease even if irritating the man probably was not my greatest strategic moves, my powers limited to turning him momentarily homosexual and yet the thought of any part of him near me is...displeasing at best. The can was easily tossed back upon the bench before I moved to lean casually against the table, one long leg folded over the other as I gestured briefly to the materials and laptops now spread out over the table.

"The Hunter Council keeps records of ever supernatural it's Hunters meet, it's all added to a database and updated every time a kill is made or they find out more about an individual's powers. I don't have access to it because I don't work for the Council- so I hacked their system instead."

One hand reached to easily turn the laptop around to face the warlock, displaying name after name after name of supernatural creature all neatly alphabetized.

"This system is efficient to a certain extent but it's old, outdated and not transferable. I am working on technology that is actually modern, that keeps up with the times. Essentially I am working on a chip that fits in my phone and automatically receives all of this date, plus updates as they happen- it also focuses on listing weaknesses of creatures as well. All I need to do is take a photo of you- like so."

I moved to reach into my pocket, iphone flicked easily into my hand to hit the camera button, managing a rather unflattering photo of a rather bemused man, turning around to show it to him once more before a single beep saw the picture fade and an entire list of statistics flash onto the screen- tossing the phone towards him now.

"That's you, essentially, according to the Hunter database- although it's not exactly.....perfect, it's confusing you with someone called Dennis and Dante the fairy in Michigan. I need someone who can help me organise this information and destroy a few fire walls. I know, I know.....why would you help me make it easier for hunters to hunt you, right?"

Well if he wasn't thinking that I would be...surprised I suppose, unless he loathes his own existence and enjoys the destruction of the majority of other supernatural and hell, maybe he did, Azrael had...mentioned something about the warlock not being afraid to...er...assassinate his own race. Regardless I was entirely sure he could help, provide an insight I couldn't possibly have.

"I don't hunt, it's not my thing and I can't change the minds of a centuries old council regardless of my charm- but I've been working on...weapons, of a different kind, weapons that disable as opposed to destroy, stop instead of kill essentially. I do believe some beings deserve the death they get so I do have lethal weapons as well, way stronger then I thought they would be, but those I will show you later, what I want your help with and your skill, is helping me build these less lethal weapons. They will disable another being- but they won't use lethal force. It might save a few of the more innocent ones from being murdered because a Hunter is in a bad mood. Why kill a Were that disturbs a party? That bullet is better saved for the vampire raping the girl in the alley if you get my meaning."

I moved to lean forward now, snatching one of the little steel playing cards Davante had made from the table, pulling another small collection of what was essentially something akin to small SD cards from my other pocket, a collection of tiny wires rather inimically patterned around it as I pressed it to the pack of the steel card and handed it abruptly to the warlock to examine- taking my phone from him in turn.

"That tiny little chip is another of my....inventions I suppose you'd call it, this says you don't like electricity- I should, essentially, be able to make that little chip release a an electrical burst- essentially by exploding it from my mobile phone which should then be amplified by the steel of the card you just made to, well- injure you. I haven't tested it before though, it may do little more then just spark really I- oh shit."

I hadn't entirely meant to set it off, nor had I meant it to deliver quite that much of a charge, the steel powering it up way more then I had truly believed, very near capable of electrocuting the man entierly and sending him into momentary spasms as I rushed forward to slap the card away from his hands...if he was still even standing.

"Er....do you feel...disabled? Or was that a little to much?"




k o h l
so you want to play with magic?