It was a somewhat grey day, dim and humid and hot - but since the weather promised to clear up, no one minded very much. The sun was on the verge of sneaking through the clouds, but it wouldn't last very long when it did. It was less than an hour until sunset, and Darcy was patiently waiting for it.

The nineteen-year-old boy was seated on a bench, calmly consuming the last of a hot dog, and watching people go by. His eyes were masked by thick strands of dusty brown hair, which was just as well because those amber eyes of his attracted unwanted attention, sometimes. Darcy was dressed in faded khaki shorts, a faintly clingy white t-shirt, and flip-flops. He mumbled a good-natured curse as a drop of ketchup from the hot dog dripped onto the hem of the shirt.
Well, if it stains, no one will see it ,... it will not be too long until sundown, now, he thought cheerily, glancing towards the sky to see how the sun was coming along. The clouds were faintly tinged with orange, and he thought - after a deep breath - that he could smell rain coming.

Beside him, on the bench, was a plain canvas backpack, stuffed with a heavy grey-tan wolfskin. A few tufts of fur poked from beneath the top flap, but it would be impossible for someone to guess what it was without being told. Dracy was just patiently waiting for sundown, so he could tie it on, and shift to wolf form for the night. It was by no means a compulsory thing - it was just what he did for fun.

But he still had almost an hour to go.
He sighed quietly. Well, he could wait a little longer.

It was difficult to say what it was that drove Baki to choose one particular victim out of so many. Maybe he could sense where the sport was, sense which souls would put up a fight rather than curling up and begging for mercy. Sense the Initiates amongst a primarily Uninitiate crowd.

It was on this close and humid afternoon that Baki, the violence-loving demon of Polynesian origins, was out on the prowl. This garish, grinning entity, so vivid in colouration that his whole form literally glowed, stalked freedly amongst the bustling crowds. How? Well, it wasn't that he was invisible by any means. The people simply did not register him as being different. Such was the nature of the demon's power, if he so willed it. He could cast a shadow of anonymity over himself, disguising his true presence from anyone not touched by magic. Useful for him, and devastating for his victims, who would be able to see their attacker whether they were Initiated or not...

And so it was on this afternoon that the leering psychopath picked on Darcy as his next victim - the young man with uncanny amber eyes, sitting alone on a bench.

Plucking a short-handled axe from his belt and clenching it in both hands, Baki charged towards Darcy from behind, without hesitation and without warning, screaming at the boy only as he was a mere yard away,

"Hoi!! Hands up, hot-dog boy!! You're for the chop!!"

Darcy was so startled that he dropped the last bit of hot dog on the ground as he whirled around to look. He wasn't certain that he'd been the one that had been yelled at, but a loud noise like that could make anyone turn and look. In a moment, it would probably occur to him that this must be a joke. What kind of crazy person runs around wielding an axe, after all?

But right then, Darcy wouldn't have known the difference. He grabbed his backpack and flung himself back from the bench and the - what the hell was that, that was coming at him with a sharp metal object of some kind?
"Maudit!," he gasped, "What are you doing?!"

((trans: maudit=damn))

Without even pausing, Baki took a lazy swing at Darcy with the axe, but missed as the boy suddenly leapt back, the axe instead imbedding itself deeply into the back of the bench, sending splinters flying.

Growling his impatience, the neon-skinned demon put one foot up against the bench for leverage and tugged sharply at the imbedded axe, trying to free it.

"What am I doing??" the demon squawked. "Trying to put this axe through your skull, that's what!!"

With one last tug, Baki wrenched the axe out of the ruined wood, and came stalking swiftly towards Darcy, grinning maliciously...

Darcy wondered vaguely why no one else had moved - other pedestrians were just calmly walking along, as if they hadn't seen anything. Maybe he'd stepped into a movie set by accident...? This was too weird to be real.

Of course, who was he, a shapeshifting wolf-boy, to decide when things could be real or not?

He continued backing away as quickly as Baki approached, nearly stumbling over the curb as he stepped into the street. He put up his hands, as if that would protect him - but really it was a plea for Baki to stay back. "Why would you do that, eh? Put the, that thing down. I do not want trouble."

"Oh, but I want trouble!" Baki screeched, chuckling horribly as he raised the axe above his head, before lurching toward Darcy and bringing the weapon slicing down...

(OOC: Ack, short post. >.< )

"Vous êtes fou!" Darcy snapped. He dodged backwards again, half-turning so he could see where he was going. Which would happen to be straight into a busy street. Withut a second thought, he dashed into traffic, miraculously managing not not get flattened. He earned himself a few yells and rude hand gestures from drivers, but had more important things to worry about than disrupting traffic.
If only it was dark, he groaned inwardly, I can run so much faster when I'm a wolf!
He was quite fast as a human as well, but it was nothing compared to how fast he could run in the form of a large canine. He certainly wasn't going to stay and fight. The weirdo was swinging an axe for goodness' sakes.


((translation: Vous êtes fou= You're insane.))

Baki, meanwhile, was not quite as fortunate at getting through the traffic - the spell he had cast was obviously not always a benefit, for while passing drivers were taking care to avoid Darcy, they were not taking so much notice of Baki.

When Darcy had run into the road, Baki had stopped at the curb for a few moments, glowing like a beacon against the neutral tones of the city streets, as he stood and glared at his retreating prey. Then, he suddenly darted out into the busy road, and was immediately forced to jump up onto the bonnet of an oncoming car to avoid being mown down by it. The vehicle slowed abruptly but did not stop - the driver appeared to squinting in slight confusion at the entity on his bonnet, as if the outlandish demon was nothing more than a bird skimming past the windshield.

The car had barely traveled a yard down the road before Baki hopped down from it and continued to dodge erratically through the traffic, stopping and starting, jumping and weaving. Heightened agility and strength meant that the demon was unlikely to be hit, but the buisness was certainly preventing him from catching up with Darcy, who had almost reached the other side.

Snarling in impatience, Baki suddenly halted, and raised his axe. Then, without even looking at the car that was racing straight at him, Baki brought the axe swinging down so hard that it sliced straight through the car's bonnet and deep into the engine.

The abruptly halted car span, out of control, round Baki, before overturning and skidding to a halt lengthways across the road, instantly bringing traffic from both directions to a screeching halt. And leaving a nice clear path for the raging demon.

With laughter rumbling in his throat, Baki stalked forward, his goggling eyes ever fixed on his prey...

Darcy stared for a brief moment, hissing, "Tabernacle!" under his breath as he watched the wreck. Then he bolted. Baki's axe might be safely embdedded in some car's engine, but he wasn't going to stick around to find out what else the - well, whatever Baki was - had up his sleeve.

What is he after me for? Darcy wondered, frowning and frequently glancing over his shoulder as he darted into an alley, intending to take as many twists as turns as possible so he could lose Baki.

(OOC: I’m back! Sorry it’s so much later than stated – I hope you saw the absence note I left…)

It was only as Baki stepped onto the curb, after having caught sight of Darcy disappearing down an alleyway, that he realised he was no longer carrying his axe. And as much as the demon wanted to catch up with his prey, he hated the thought of leaving one of his most favourite weapons behind, and so he promptly turned back.

The glowing demon marched back out into the road and over to the crashed car, grabbing hold of the embedded axe and, after tugging with all his might, ripping it out of the totalled bonnet. Then with renewed vigour he turned around and took off at an erratic run onto the path and down the alley in hot pursuit of Darcy, holding the axe half-raised in preparation to swing.

Baki now appeared slightly irritated that, because of his delay, he had now lost sight of Darcy, but still continued to run in his hopping, darkly joyful manner, obviously enjoying the chase – the hunt was all part of the fun, after all…