It was a very quite night at Bayfield-- the fast food district wasn't getting much attention at this time of night, the masses all laying their nieve little heads down to another nights rest. Only the occasional siren call and flashing lights fell upon the night-- the sound of a cat jumping off a trash can, screeching and shrinking off into the shadows, melding to become of them.
A man lay dead on the street corner. His eyes at half mast and mouth open in an utter state of shock. He was still in, what seemed to be, his work cloths-- briefcase in one arm. He was leaning against an old brick building, face resting on the cold stone wall, while his proped-up hand slowly slid down it, dripping with his very own blood-- five lines falling from the inscription above him:

Art is Everywhere

It seemed as though his throat had been slit, seeing as there was a pool of crimson blood trickling down the wall and onto the ground at the point in which his neck met up with the brick building.
Just behind him, stood a young man, arms crossed over his chest in a contemplative and creative manner. His head was tilted, as if configuring the scene with his mind. His deeply bluish-violet optics scanning his latest works, as if absorbing the information and looking for flaws.

"Ah..." Aviner stated after a while of thought, a small note of triumph ringed in his whispering voice, as he walked over towards the dead man and picked up one blood stained finger to add: '...' At the end of the sentance. Now, the masterpiece was finished:

Art is Everywhere...

The sign proclaimed.Perfect. He grinned in satisfaction, then turned to his cat, who was sitting underneath a nearby lamp post, as if to consult it.
"How does this one look, Archie." Aviner stated, as if talking to his own personal executive or something. The cat just perked it's head and blinked it's huge round optics for a bit, before meowing slightly and getting up to stroke itself across Aviner's jean covered leg. Aviner smiled.

"That's what I thought. Perfect." he said with an offhanded laugh, then bent down on one knee to pet his feline, while looking over at the piece of work he'd just created. "How d'you think the Cops'll file this one? Insane possibly?" he grinned, curing his neck of an itch before standing up and reviewing the mess.
"Yes.. or mindless murder.." he noted. "Oh they're creative, I doubt they'll have trouble labeling this one.."

Certain college prfessors thought that insperation was best found in the gutters of this fair city, and that his student's should let themelve's go into the "mean, no man's land" that he had never been to: a place without five star hotels and a courtiouse british man who would happily lend anyone in need a hand.

So, Eleven had "ventured" out into the Fast Food District, searching for a muse to collabarate a sculpture out of. Damn art teacher, Art's not even a real major, He's not even a real teacher. Whadda's he know about soul?

"Exactly what I thought." Aviner laughed to the cat's inquiring moews, as if he understood them. He then drew himself up to his full size, and blinked a few times, smiling at his work.

Demented, but still his.

"You know.. painting with arcylics have too many disadvantages--too sticky--they stain.. they dry easily." aviner muttered to himself, or maybe Archi, "But this--" he held up a bloodstained finger. "has only one disadvantage." the cat gave a questioning meow, causing Aviner to laugh. "It only comes in one color.."

Muttering a string of curse words and fiddling with a new-fangled cell phone that forgot to ring and deleted voice mails, she continued half-heartedly looking around. There wasn't so much divine inspiration as there was disaray and boredom. Had it not been for the very-real looking starter pistol tucked nicely away in her Homestar Runner messenger bag (and the succubii-ness) she may have been a tad freaked out by the suuroundings. But as she stood, it was boring and dirty...mostly boring.

"Damn phone..." Well, in all fairness, it wasn't the phone's fault she was stuck searching for artist intuition, in vain, and it wasn't neccisarily the phone's fault that her painting had to include "solemn soul"

"Damn Art teacher...damn 'im to hell."

"Never damn an art teacher to hell.." Aviner stated from the distance he was at to her. He said this matter-of-factly. Not in any way trying to be scolding or anything of the sort--simply stating.

He didn't turn his head to look at her, but simply flashed a glance for five seconds, but quickly back to his cat-- seeming to return to his train of thought. He began to hum to himself for a short while, tapping his foot lightly against the cement sidewalk and rolling his tongue across his teeth lightly, idyllicly.

With a slight cok of her head, she advanced at normal pace, keeping her head tilted upon seeing the body of the buisnessman.

Oh look, someone died.

She wasn't right on top of him or anything, just in the vasinical area of the artist and cat. Looking on iwth mild amusement, while stuffing the dang-blasted Nokia in one of the many pockets her jacket provided.

"Why not? What have art teachers ever done for me?"

Aviner just laughed, a deep laugh that existed for two seconds, but was as deep as a thunder roar and as decieving as an illusion. A grin tiwtched slightly onto his lips before the laugh faded and he was silent and contemplative again.

He blinked a few times and looked down at his shoes, clanking them lightly again before looking from the dead businessman and then back towards the Misses. Studying her for five seconds, taking her in and focusing in and out on her- like she was a piece of art. Then he found something amusing.

"Ah.. Homestarrunner." he said in a mild manner of interest, or rememberance. He gave a small 'mmm' afterwards, blinking placidly at her, not expecting an answer, but just staring at her to stare.

Staring back, a white-blond eye brow arched above the deep blue eyes that would often be comparred to either the eyes of an angel or the skin of the deeply deceased. She clicked her zebra fabric covered all stars almost mockingly, trying to figure out the game. The phone slipped, her eyes shifted back to the man-

"Mosaic?"

"Come again?" Aviner questioned, eyes blinking a few times as he refocused. "Sorry, wasn't listening." he said that innocently, not meaning to harm or anything.

She rolled her eyes "The man...mosaic?" She shrugged nonchalantly and continued to stare at the corpse, muse's didn't have to be alive.

"oohohoo.." Aviner nodded with a grin, and a short offhanded laugh, slowly turning his head towards the dead buzinessman and the cheery (to him at least) sign above it.
"Contemporary.." he corrected, scanning his latest peice over slightly.

"You're an artist, right?" Aviner stated, looking back towards her, and studying her. "You have the look of an artist. Strong eyes." he muttered mostly to himself as once again, he'd taken to studying her. He then tilted his head curiously. "..of course... I could be wrong..."

She chuckled invariably "What an artsy thing to say...strong eyes, or maybe it's that fact that i wanted to damn my teacher to hell that set off bells.."

The buisnessman seemed bold, a small tilt of her head, bohemian with a super-natural tint. Succubii know these things, or at least have insight to them, they are, of course the creaters of little nightmares and cute soul altering experiances. Creativness and malignant spirits came with the job discript.

Aviner gave a slight grin "What is it that your teacher did?" he quesitoned slightly, perking a head with the curiousity and movements of a cat. Eyes always moving, even if they seemed still-- when he blinked, it was slow, and thoughtful. Debating.

She rolled her eyes "He want's soul from a homeless man...he want's a sculpture with 'solemn' etched in every contour, the speech of the dirty area of our town..." Direct quotes from the sad speech she was given

"And...he wears bright green pants..."

Aviner gave an eccentric laugh.
"Sounds like he wants you to look deeper than you already have..." Aviner replied, shoving his hands into his pockets and looking from the moon, which he studied, as if every time he saw it, it changed; and then again towards the woman, studying her as he did the moon.
"Do you hate it because you can't do it? Or do you hate it... for some other reason..." he said a bit recitedly, voice curdling with a kind of know-it-all attitude, but with the patience and awareness of a priest.

Shrug.

"I hate it, because i don't think you should go out of your way to find art, or insperation..." That, and she, at this moment, could be sitting at home eating swiss cake rolls instead of trodding all over town trying to find a muse.

She was a firm believr in laziness.

"Idle hands are the devils playground." Aviner said with a small grin. And yes, Aviner was indead a devil. "What exactly are you looking for.."

Glancing over at the man, the message bleeding over the wall...

"Well...a dead rat or something to that effect, but a corpse works just as well.." She clicked the heels of her shoes together, not in a dramatic Dorothy way, just idle clicking to occupy space.

"Ah yes... corpses.." Aviner smiled. His specialty. He then blinked af ew times and looked down at Archie, giving the cat a small pat on the head, and then lowering himself down to it's level once again. "Sh.. it's okay Archie.." he muttered, noticing that the cat seemed worked up over something. He then seemed to be listening intently to the cat and gave a small nod, wriggling his nose for a bit and gving onother nod. "Okay." he then looked back over towards the lady. "Would you like to go for a walk?" he asked kindly.

Her eyebrows raised, what's with the cat?

Mouth open, just waiting for a rude comment to blurt out. Then again, the..vampire?...was the creator of such bohemian works, collaberator of insperation that could get her ahead in class...and that much closer to graduating...No more Mr. Green Pants...

"uh...Sure."

Aviner just gave a slight smile and then nodded.
"Oh, good." He stood up and pocketed his hands, looking over towards Eleven and nodded in the opposite direction, giving heed that he was walking this way. The cat perked it's tail and coiled it around Avi's leg slightly, before releasing and then following after his owner.

She hit her forhead with the palm of her hand, trying to to do behind his back then followed still glancing back at the man. How the hell was she supposed to turn that into abstract sculpture?

"Goin' anywhere in particular?"

Maybe she'd stumble upon a premade sculpture giving off solemn rays...

"It depends..." Aviner replied after a bit of thought was put into it. He only gave the slightest look back towards her, then continued on his way.

Sigh.

She hurried to catch up, walking at his side rather than lead or follow.

Grumble.

Stupid art teacher, keeping her from her dinner...well, her McNuggets really. Eleven fumbled through her bag, pulling out random disks and crumpled sketches, and a few sheets of viola music befor producing a package of swiss role cakes.

"Depends on what?"

"Depends on if you walk to wander.. or walk to find." Aviner retorted, blinking a few times and looking down at the cement, studying the cracks and grass uprooting itself from it.

Mmm..swiss roll cake

She unwrapped the package, unrolling the chocolate cake from the cream and eating it piece by piece, then licking the remenants from her fingers.

"you wouldn't happen to know any vampires, would you?" hint hint. "Because we could 'wander' in their direction"

Aviner just gave an off handed laugh, grinning slightly to bare perfectly white teeth.
"Do I know any vampires..." he reinterated, then gave her a look as if that was a stupid question.

She chuckled lightly and started on her second cake roll.

"Thought so..."

munch. munch.

"Been on any random killing sprees, lately?" What better inspiration than someone that had to murder? And, as luck would have it, was also an aspiring artist.

"I would not call them random." Aviner replied, looking down at the cake rolls.
"...How do those taste.." he said in a bit of a question, but also as if he were pondering. He then looked up towards her and perked his head with slight amusement.

"would you possibly want one?" She held it out like an offering and cocked her head to the side, not in an ALL mockingly.

Aviner gave out half a laugh.
"No thank you darling... I do not think I have the... stomach, to handle it." His grin twisted more in amusement at his own little play on words.

She rolled her eyes and downed the second cake out of hunger, wiping the white cream of her mouth she added

"they taste like chocolate cake wrapped in Oreo filling..."

Sh then crumpled the wrappers and stuffed them in a pockets almost bulging with empty celafane.

"What makes them not random, anyhow?"

"Because I watch them... I do not just point and choose.." Aviner stated. "They have to spark my interest. There has to be something about them...." he explained slowly, hands moving in slow expressive manners, before they fell into each other at a rest on his stomach.

"And what '"sparked your intrest" about the buisness man?" SHe made the quotation marks with her middle and pointer fingers.

Aviner gave a bit of a grin.
"He had a cool watch..." He said simply.

Her eyebrows raised

"Doesn't take much, huh?" She was scratching above her ear, looking around.

"I guess that's not COMPLETELY random..."

"Oh.. and he also littered.." Aviner added, nodding as if it were a perfectly good reason to make demented art out of somebody. "Very bad for pets." he said, casting a slight look down towards Archie.

"But-" She would have added, had she not needed to complete the assignment, that the body strewn across the alley was as good as littering, but even a succubus know when to keep her mouth shut...when it can help her at least.

Eleven sighed. "True dat."

"Personally, i woulda murdered that S.O.B of a whore art teacher o' mine,"

Aviner gave a slight laugh.
"Do you not have an assignment??" he questioned, wondering a little why she was procrastinating and not getting it done and over with so she wouldn't have to worry about it.

she kicked the ground

"I always have an assignment for tha godforsaken class"

Insert muttered curse words here.

"It's always crap too, nothing fun and it always has to be on his terms..."