Thread: Demons are always about (Hawkril x Nixie)

Krysta did not hunt demons because they killed her parents. Her parents were both alive and well. She did not hunt demons because she had some rough demon boyfriend who beat her up. She had never had a demon boyfriend and never intended to have one. She didn??t hunt them because of some deepset prejudice and hate she had for them. She was perfectly aware that some of them were as civilised as humans?probably more civilised in some cases. No, she hunted the beasts because it was a living and it was a far sight better than sitting in an office answering phone calls, and she loved the challenge and the satisfaction her job gave her. The pay wasn??t too bad as well. She was a tall, curvy woman with an exotic look to her. Her skin was tanned dark naturally and her hair was black. It fell to her waist in tousled tendrils, often messy and ruffled simply because she did not have time to deal with it. Occasionally she would wear it off her face and although this would be the more practical thing for her to do, she disliked the way it made her features look incredibly sharp. Just because she fought like a man and often dressed like one, didn??t mean she was adverse to having some femininity- after all it was a particularly gruesome job though that was partially why she liked it. Often, she could be seen clothed in a black one-piece suit of thick leather that acted like a second skin to her whilst protecting her somewhat. This was what she wore tonight as she walked down the dark street, eating and orange of all things whilst looking leisurely up at the stars with bright green eyes. It was a good night to be out hunting. The crisp air played and tangled in her dark waves as she walked along, the flat soles of her boots making no sound at all. She wasn??t one for high heels- she was too tall anyway and those things were dangerous. One gutter, curb, rock, anything and whoops, broken ankle. Which in her profession, could quickly be followed by painful death. Not something on her agenda. She was in this small village, hunting an elusive bugger that plagued her reputation. So far, he seemed like the more gentle sort of demon, well some were- until provoked. And provoking was exactly what she had planned. Popping the last segment on the orange in her mouth, she smiled to herself as the sweet juices burst under her tongue, and turned the next corner into an alley. She tossed the orange skin to the floor, shrugging. It would bio-degrade. Krysta continues walking along, the sister handguns strapped to her thighs moving with her legs as she walked. After a moment, she paused at the sound of light snoring. Her eyes followed the noise to the door. She approached it and tilted her head, running her hands through her dark hair and ruffling it slightly. She bent down to examine the lock. It had been forced, but that had rusted over so it was most likely abandoned?maybe it was squatters. Krysta listened again. No, there was only one person in there. Overcome by curiosity, Krysta pushed the creaky door open, allowing moonlight to flood in around her shapely form, casting an imitation of it on the dusty floorboards. Her eyes found the figure of a sleeping man. ??Hmm.