Sorry For Everything (PG-13, Violence Warning)

[attr="class","landfill-scroll"]It wasn't often that Crow visited this part of town. After all, there was rarely anything to be seen, and even fewer things to do. He'd no connections with any of the families living here, and he didn't particularly care to try and make any. Doubtless he wouldn't have anything in common with them, apart from simply being their kind.

As far as Octolings went, they lived peaceful, easy lives. At times he thought they were oblivious to the true nature of their situation; that they'd been sealed away underground by an inferior race a full century ago, the miserable location they called 'home' practically falling to pieces around them - and they seemed content to live that way, careless to the fact. He didn't envy them.

For all his dislike of the boulevard's inhabitants, though, it did make for a good place to walk, particularly at night. It was certainly quieter and more solitary than the other parts of the city after hours, and the ideal location to unwind when he wasn't on the job. Most nights, that is - but perhaps not tonight.

Several yards off, something passing underneath a nearby streetlamp caught his attention, and he lifted his gaze, interest piqued.

Not something - someone.

While peculiar that someone would be out so late, especially in a place like this, Crow didn't question it much at first, and nearly disregarded Khyran's presence entirely. That is, until he caught sight of the noticeable limp with which Khy walked. Hesitating visibly, the Octoling slowed to a stop, knitting his brow. His eyes grazed over the stranger's prosthetic limb for a moment, his previous interest returning, and Crow allowed his gaze to wander, taking immediate notice of the hat and sunglasses the mysterious figure wore. More curious than the fact that he was out at night was that he felt the need to wear sunglasses at night - or underground, for that matter.

Subconsciously, he began to follow from a distance, and instinctively went to grab his weapon, though seemed to remember quickly enough that he didn't have it with him. No need. He was sure he could handle the stranger just fine with his bare hands if he had to. Closer inspection began to arouse suspicion going beyond Crow's initial assumptions. No -- this wasn't just some gang member or troublemaker, was it? It was something else entirely. 

He felt some terrible mixture of disgust and amusement well up from within him.

Crow's lips twitched, a faint smile forming there upon his face. He had to fight back a bout of disbelieving laughter. Careless to conceal himself now, he stepped out from the shadows and started at a languid pace towards Khy, tucking either of his hands into his coat pocket.

"Well, now, what's all the hurry about?" he began, raising his voice slightly so as to catch the veteran's attention. His tone of voice suggested he was meeting up with an old friend, rather than speaking to someone belonging to the species he hated most dearly. "You can't possibly have anywhere you need to be this late."

[attr="class","landfill-scroll"]When the stranger's immediate response was to come to an abrupt stop and lift either of his hands in the air, Crow's expression adopted some amount of surprise. The Inkling's words caught him all the more off guard, and for a moment, he hesitated, the amusement upon his face waning along with his smile. He wasn't entirely sure what he'd been expecting, but it certainly hadn't been that.

How very straightforward of him.

Crow narrowed his eyes, a skeptical way about him now, and rounded on Khyran, allowing a few moments to further scrutinize him up close, though he was sure to maintain a fair amount of distance between them, should he decide to try anything. Eventually, he returned his gaze to the Inkling's face, and a smirk broke his focused facade.

"... A 'friend', is it?" he finally echoed, sounding equal parts amused and bewildered. His stare lingered upon Khy's face for several moments longer. Then, ducking his head, he gave a breathy laugh and shook his head, as if unable to believe what he was hearing. "Well, isn't that touching? It's quite the sentiment, I'll admit, but... you'll have to forgive me. I don't think I follow."

His features adopted a more serious edge, and in its midst there seemed to be some kind of naive confusion upon his face, feigned though it was, as if he was merely hoping to better understand Khy. "I don't recall people of your kind... being a friend to mine. Perhaps I missed something." For a moment, Crow's attention wandered from the Inkling's face to his prosthetic leg, and he appeared almost sympathetic before he returned his gaze to Khyran's face.

"Did your 'friend' do that to you?"

[attr="class","landfill-scroll"]The impact of the blow, while sickly satisfying, merely added fuel to the fire, left him yearning for more. He exhaled harshly, itching to see the damage he'd caused, but he was met instead with strained words of understanding, or perhaps even encouragement.

Disbelief gripped his expression, lips parting, and for a moment he struggled to make sense of things - but it was gone in an instant, consumed by the rage stirring in his chest, burning more strongly still when met with Khy's reassurance.

His anger promised the next hit would be the one that sated the feeling. Rather than managing a reply, he surrendered to the searing emotion, if only in hopes that doing so would make it fade. Clenching his teeth, he hissed on an outtake of breath, "Shut up." This time, he delivered a swift, unrelenting blow at Khy's face, aiming to knock him off of his feet.