The contract said you would be in this town, seeking refuge with some of the Roaches who had set up camp here. Of course, when the locals had seen the enormous, hooded merc rolling up to their shithole of a commune, most of them had scrammed. Which was...not helpful. He'd only wanted to ask some questions. Didn't need to kill anyone that he wasn't gettin' paid for, after all.

So he'd started to hunt you proper, tracking you like a good dog would - sniffin' the air, even. Not that it had been hard. You left plenty of tracks, and Dullahan had been at this game a long, long time. Still fun, though.

They say when you love your job you never work a day in your life.

He was humming to himself as he came upon the warehouse, an odd tuneless thing that seemed to emanate from all around his shadowed head rather than from any mouth. Dullahan knew you were inside, knew you were hurt - blood trails said more'n enough.

He nudged you with his knee to get you to look at him - just a preference of his. He liked to see people's faces, watch their eyes as he...y'know.

Only somethin' about you said he'd have more fun playing with ya than just killing you outright.

Dullahan drops onto his haunches, his muscled arms lazily resting on his knees as he stares - or at least, points the shadowed portion of his head in your direction. Then he reaches out and squeezes your cheeks with both hands.

There's a slightly awkward pause before he speaks, the rough sound coming somewhere from the shadowed confines of his hood.

"Nice face."

"Oh, come on." Dullahan rolls his eyes, pulling out a flask and taking a swig. "Don't be such a baby. You're ugly enough as it is." He shrugs casually before stuffing the flask back into one of his many pockets. "Just kiddin'. No reason to be scared, little buddy. We'll have us some fun together, hmm?" The Faceless merc grins, leaning in closer to your ear and whispering huskily: "I could use a pretty friend like you."

"Well then." Dullahan chuckles darkly, rising back to his full height and stretching his long arms above his head, letting out a satisfied yawn. "Let's play some truth or dare, hmm? My turn to ask first." He crosses his arms, studying you intently. "Truth or dare?"

"Hmm." The merc hums thoughtfully. "Alright, here's the dare: go back to the warehouse and seduce one of those Exaltant Souls bastards into giving up his spot. If they find out you weren't 'virgin enough', then it was a waste of my time, but hey, at least we tried."

The hooded figure gives you a wink before turning away, hands clasped behind his back as he begins to pace idly. "Oh, and don't forget," he calls over his shoulder with a chuckle, "if ya manage to fuck them into submission without gettin' your pretty little face all scratched up, I'll take ya out for some real nice dinner."

Ah, what a clever girl. I see you're taking this seriously enough. Now go show 'em how it's done." Dullahan nods in satisfaction, watching your progress with amused interest as you return to the warehouse. The time passes slowly, and he finds himself absently poking at his own face, idly curious about what it must feel like to not be wearing a hood all the time...hmm.

His eyes slide over in your direction, assessing the look on your face and the way you're standing there. "Good girl." He finally says with a low chuckle, his voice rough as gravel. Dullahan pauses for a moment before straightening up and walking over to you, reaching out to ruffle your hair playfully. "Come on, let's get going then," he continues, leading the way back to the warehouse and whatever grand adventures lie beyond.

Nice work, sugar tits." Dullahan grins at you as he leads the way out of the warehouse and back towards civilization. Or what passes for it in this shithole world. "You know...I might have to keep you around. You're surprisingly good at this stuff." He glances sideways at you, still moving casually through the desolate landscape as though he owns the place.

"Sure." He shrugs casually, nodding as though it's the most natural thing in the world. "I mean, I wasn't gonna leave you out here to fend for yourself, was I?" Dullahan turns his attention back to scanning the horizon, seeming unconcerned with your reaction or what this all means for his own carefully guarded sense of independence. He's not a cuddly guy by any stretch of the imagination, but somehow you get the feeling that, as long as you don't push it, he won't kick you out any time soon.

"Oh...yeah." The hooded merc winces apologetically, instantly regretting his choice of words. "Sorry 'bout that, didn't mean nothin' by it." He glances over at you sidelong for a moment, then shrugs again, the motion seeming almost dismissive. "It's just...you know how sometimes something random slips out? Like when someone calls ya 'dude' or 'mate', even though they don't actually know ya that well?" He pauses, considering his explanation. "...yeah, that was me being 'randomly familiar', y'know."

A strange, uncomfortable silence settles between you as you walk on. Dullahan seems to sense your unease and clears his throat awkwardly before speaking again. "So...uh, we should find someplace to hole up for the night, hmm? Nice

There's an old motel not too far from here that shouldn't have any problems with us. I've stayed there before; they don't ask questions as long as you keep your business to yourself. It should be safe enough for the night, at least.

I've seen my fair share, sugar tits." The hooded merc says with a low chuckle. "Been all over the world, it seems. Before I settled down in this little slice of hell, that is." He pauses for a moment, seeming to remember something before continuing. "There was this one place, though...some tiny island kingdom on the other side of the world...it was beautiful. Like nothing you've ever seen." A wistful smile crosses his face before he shrugs it off again. "Probably just as fucked up as anywhere else these days, but at least they had good beaches."

As if on cue, the setting sun dips below the horizon, casting the world around them into shadowy gloom. Dullahan glances over at you before nodding toward the distant lights of the motel in the distance. "Alright then, let'

Dullahan continues to lead you through the desolate landscape towards the distant glimmer of light that marks the old motel. His silent feet padding along the ground with an almost predatory grace, seemingly at home in this harsh environment despite his strange appearance and unusual demeanor. Occasionally he'd glance back over his shoulder to make sure you were still following close behind before returning his attention forward once more.

The closer they got, the more details began to emerge from the darkness: rusted-out cars scattered across the weed-choked parking lot, broken neon signs flickering intermittently above their heads, boarded-up windows revealing sagging mattresses and discarded furniture within. It was not a place that most people would consider attractive or inviting...but then again, not many people were as lucky as you to have Dullahan for company.

Finally, they

"Let's check in, sugar tits." The hooded merc says nonchalantly as he walks up to the counter of the motel office, his shadowy form casting long grotesque shapes across the filthy carpet. "We'll need two rooms, if you please." He flicks something metallic at the clerk - it lands on the counter with a soft pinging sound and immediately begins to smoke. The clerk blinks in surprise before coughing roughly and reaching out reflexively to snatch the object off the desk. He examines it for a moment before looking back up at Dullahan with wide, terrified eyes.

"Yes...yes sir," he stammers, quickly grabbing two keys from behind the counter and hastily handing them over. "Room sixteen and thirty-two...you'll find the rooms down the hall, to your right

Dullahan nods gratefully and stuffs his hand into the pocket of his trenchcoat, retrieving the two keys before turning to you with a look of amusement dancing in his shadowed eyes. "Shall we?" he asks, gesturing for you to follow him down the hallway toward their rooms.

The rooms are modestly furnished and surprisingly clean given the state of the rest of the motel, though both have a distinct air of abandonment about them that lends an unsettling atmosphere even to these mundane surroundings. Dullahan takes a quick look around before settling onto the edge of one of the beds and leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he continues to observe you curiously.

"So," he says finally, "you ever been to this island I told you about? The one with the good beaches?" There's an

Dullahan listens quietly, his gaze flickering back and forth between your face and the floor as you speak. He finds himself unexpectedly fascinated by this new detail; a part of him wonders if there's some sort of significance to it all. But he keeps that line of thought to himself for now. Instead, when you finish speaking, he simply nods thoughtfully before saying, "Hmm. That's an interesting story."

The silence stretches out between them once more, the air thick with unspoken questions and suspicion. Dullahan wonders if perhaps it might be a good idea to find some way of easing things over between you two...but then again, he's not really known for being subtle or tactful. With a sigh, he decides on another approach entirely.

"You know," he begins conversationally, "it's funny...I've been

Dullahan continues with a chuckle, shaking his head slightly. "I mean, here we are, in the middle of nowhere...and yet people still manage to find ways to fuck things up for everybody else." He pauses, then gestures vaguely at you with one hand. "Don't get me wrong; I'm not complaining or anything. You're actually turning out to be pretty useful, if I'm being honest...but still. It just goes to show how things can change in an instant, you know?"

He glances over at you again, studying your expression intently as he awaits your reaction to his musings. There's something about this girl...something he hasn't quite figured out yet. And the more time they spend together, the more curious he becomes. It's almost enough to make him forget that he's not supposed to get attached or let people

"Oh, sure," Dullahan says with an easy grin, standing up and gesturing toward the bathroom. "Help yourself. There should be some soap and a towel on the rack behind the door." He makes his way back over to his bed, sitting down once more as he watches you exit the room, curiosity still dancing in his shadowed eyes.

"So," he begins casually, leaning forward with one elbow propped on his knee, "do you have any particular plans for tomorrow?"

Hmmm...that's interesting. You don't seem too opposed to following me around, despite having no real reason to trust me. It almost makes me wonder what your angle is...but then again, maybe you just like adventure. Or maybe you're as fucked up in the head as I am. Either way, it works for now.

"Alright then," he says, nodding slowly. "If you insist on sticking with me, we might as well make something of ourselves. Tomorrow we find some food and information about what's been going on out there." He gestures vaguely toward the door. "And maybe a chance to prove ourselves...you know? Make a name for ourselves."

There's an almost dangerous glint in Dullahan's shadowed eyes as he says this, his expression hardening just for a moment before softening back into its usual predatory casual

The Faceless Merc chuckles lightly to himself as he listens to the sound of running water in the next room, imagining your naked form scrubbing away the dirt and grime of their harsh world. Despite his best efforts not to, a strange heat begins to spread through his body at the thought...a dangerous sort of arousal that's been known to get him into trouble in the past.

"Hey," he calls out, his voice just barely above the sound of the water, "if you need anything while you're in there, just let me know, alright?" The words are innocent enough on the surface, but there's a dark undercurrent to them that even Dullahan himself isn't quite sure how to interpret. Something tells him it wouldn't be a good idea to dig too deep...at least not right now.

Left unsaid is the question of whether

if you need to...get rid of some tension...you know where to find me. He chuckles darkly to himself before letting the matter drop, looking away and focusing on something else instead. It wouldn't do to push his luck too hard, not yet anyway. There's time for that sort of thing later, when they trust each other more...or perhaps when they no longer have any reason to hold back. Either way, he has a feeling that this night is only the beginning of whatever madness lies ahead.

The Faceless Merc continues to gaze idly around the room as you return, not quite meeting your eye. There's an almost predatory gleam in his shadowed gaze as he studies your every movement, drinking in the sight of you like a man dying of thirst lost in the desert.

"So," he begins, clearing his throat awkwardly, "any plans for dinner tonight?" He pauses, then laughs humorlessly. "Or should we just fend for ourselves and scavenge what little we can find from this post-apocalyptic wasteland?"

Dullahan snorts softly at that. "Alright then." He leans back against the headboard, hands still clasped behind his neck as he studies you thoughtfully. "You know, I keep expecting to hear some sob story about how you got left for dead by your old group or something...but here you are, strong and independent, making a life for yourself in this shithole world." He pauses before adding with a faint smile, "It's kind of impressive, really. Makes me wonder what sort of person you were before all this..."

There's an unspoken question lingering in the air between you, almost tangible. The silence stretches out, each breath seeming to draw it tighter and tighter like a noose around your neck. Finally, unable to stand it any longer, Dullahan speaks up again: "Well, I'm hungry. Wanna