Xennoce Portave was a bad influence.

At the same time, she was also a splendid improvement upon his mood. That afternoon, Salvador had been in a miserable slump. It all started with the girl who had come into the Inn bleeding from practically every pore. Well, okay. She hadn't been that bad off. But the fact that she was injured and smelled like she was less than a week off from dying did not help the situation at all.

Autumn was getting closer. Every day he ached. The slightest whiff of blood, even from a woman's natural cycle, was starting to make him uncomfortable. The worst of the pangs hit him when it was human blood in the air. It didn't help at all that people were starting to be okay with his cravings.

Dylan was one of them. He had no idea who the woman had heard it from, but one night she had just started drilling him with questions. She was genuinely curious and not at all disturbed by what she was learning about him. If there hadn't been the trigger of another bleeding-to-death girl traipsing through the Inn a few short hours previous, making him unreasonably horny, he never would have been so honest with her.

Most rational people, when they learned he was a cannibal, ceased having anything to do with him whatsoever. Strangely, more and more people were learning that about him these days, and instead of avoiding him like the monster he was, they wanted to be his friend. It didn't make any goddamn sense.

Salvador had eventually made a pledge to himself that he'd never engage in live killing. There were enough murderous creatures in Rhy'Din who left plenty of discarded bodies laying about. Though he, admittedly and ashamedly, got a thrill out of the hunt, he didn't need to catch live prey to survive. All he needed was the flesh, the meat, and the blood. The bones he stripped and cleaned and bleached and gave to Fae to use in the making of jewelry.

Alyssa knew he ate people, the poor girl. Mostly, she had caught him red handed eating a demon eyeball, and a few days later that had escalated into uncomfortable conversation. Thorn hadn't judged him. In fact, she was the strangest one. He'd known her on and off, as a passing face in the crowd, for years. But now recently he was getting to know her; quite intimately considering the photographs she kept sending to his phone.

He didn't like that people knew he ate other people. The only one girl who seemed to be at all sensible -- he didn't even know her name -- was the one who went on about the horrible side effects of being a cannibal. Things like causing insanity, bad breath and toxic kisses. Nobody ever really got past the "oh my God, you eat people!?" phase to understand his necessity. It wasn't only in his nature. His very survival depended on him consuming human flesh.

Very few people knew that much about him. He could name them all, count them on one hand: Sin, Skid, Xennoce. And he hadn't seen her in years. But that one fateful day in the Red Dragon Inn she showed up, crawling out from under the bar as was her habit, to find him sulking. All because of the damaged girl he was trying very hard not to tackle to the floor, f*ck violently, rip apart, and eat. It wasn't that he needed to make a meal of her, but goddamn did he ever want to.

"What the f*ck is wrong with you, Sal? Usually you're doing backwards pirouettes off the dark side of your own ass." Xennoce most certainly had a way with words, even if he didn't completely understand her. She leaned against the bar across from him, two-toned eyes narrowed.

He lifted his head from the bar and blinked at her with confusion. "What?"

"That was English, you realize. Need it in Italian?"

He blinked at her again. Stupidly, we might add. Hold on. He was trying to translate the analogy, and failing miserably, at that. "I... Uh..."

She rolled her head back, looking at the ceiling. "Dear God, lend me strength not to... What is wrong with you, you gibbering f*ckknuckle?"

He frowned severely. Not many people could get away with insulting him like that. Xennoce had the added bonus of using many big words, previously, that confused the hell out of him. But now... Now he wasn't feeling so much dejected as suddenly in the mood to get in a fight. Thank you, Xen. "Don't you smell that?" he asked, and sharply turned an arm out to point at the girl, now wrapped in an ace bandage and better cleaned up, following Thorn out of the ladies' room.

"No, Sal, I can't. Usually, the only thing I smell around here is unwashed p*ssy from all the horny women around here," she muttered, before she yanked another cabinet open.

"Well she f*cking came in here dirty and bleeding all over the f*cking place and it's killing me not to f*cking--" What. Tackle her to the floor. Dice her up. Fricassee her. So many options here, and he's at a loss on which one to pick.

Xennoce let out an explosive sigh. "Sal, you've really got to learn to control your emotions. Do what I do. Go kick a puppy. Or smack someone."

"It gets harder with Autumn right around the f*cking corner," he muttered sourly. Though he eyed Skid, then, who was sitting right beside him at the bar, considering the benefits of slapping him.

"Sal, there is never a bad time for smacking someone. Or punching. Punching is nice. What I really like to do is---" And here she went into a small diatribe about thin glass rods, ball peen hammers, and their usage on a certain part of a man's anatomy.

Skid watched Sal watching him and then, cheerily, punched Sal in the ribs with a little bit of thumb claw stuck out just so. You know. For emphasis. Which was perfectly timed, because Salvador had just turned his head to gape at Xen's amazingly detailed story. "She's right," said the Daemon. "I feel great. You should try it."

"I haven't had anyone live on my table in a long time." Salvador was whining again. People like Xen bring out the worst in him. That part he tries not to let people know about him. How hunting is a thrill, and listening to people scream and writhe while he tortures them... Oh the good old days. And then "Nnghf!" Sway. Because Skid punched him. Well in that case.. He passed it on by punching Ripper.

The talking xenomorph swayed like a light black punching bag. Chitin crunched underneath the blow, otherwise he didn't look hurt. No blood, at least.

Xennoce pointed a finger at Sal. "Well who's f*cking fault is that? They're not going to fetch your slippers and lick your nuts, Sal! Go find someone, my God!"

"I should." No you shouldn't, Sal! Oh, but it sounded so enticing. How could he resist the urge to let the murderous half of himself loose for a while? He pulled his arms back, palms flat on the bar, straightening up, and did some serious thinking on the subject. There were so many choices in Rhy'Din, though. Who was the lucky victim going to be?

Xennoce pounded a fist on the bartop with authority! "That's right! A man's got to let off steam, right? It's like not jerking off: sooner or later, you just have to do it."

"You should." Skid agreed, because Sal wasn't nearly as violent as he should be. "You should start looking today."

"Killing is not a bad pastime." Dear God. Even the xenomorph agreed.

His pocket chirped at him at about the same time Xen pounded the bartop. Both did wonderfully to break him out of his daydreams. "I need to do some real hunting. You're right." Instead of picking up the garbage left behind by all the other killers in the city. Yes. Right now! He stood up, distractedly pulling his Sonim from his coat to check the message someone sent him.

Of course, it was more porn from Thorn.

"I'll even come with you, if you don't remember how to do it right." The fabric of Skid's mask twisted into something akin to a smirk.

"If I don't know how to do it right," he muttered, echoing Skid like scoffing. "F*ck you, Skid." But he wasn't turning down the company. He smirked for a tick, then tucked his phone back into his pocket, prowling determinedly to the front door.

Behind him, he heard Xen's lovely voice encourage him onward by yelling, "You're f*cking welcome you inconsiderate prick!"

Salvador turned around to walk backward through the door, so he could blow Xen a kiss.

She thanked him graciously by shouting, "That's disgusting!"

Beside him, Skid was being his usually sarcastic and cheerful self. "Man, do I love getting most of the credit and doing none of the thinking. It's good to be beautiful." The monstrosity took a few seconds to stare at Xennoce, then he followed Salvador out.

Once he was out the door, Salvador fairly trotted down the steps and took off down the street at a jog, with the Daemon and the xenomorph trotting along loyally at his sides.


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(Adapted from live play with thanks to Necromesh, Unseen Killer, and Xennoce.)