User blog:MockingJester/Kurupa Nara

Dislcamer:

'''[Ok, so this is something new being done here. For a while, I have been here, watching people come up with creative ways to try to uplight someone's exploration of this place. I wish to try doing the same in a category a bit less exploited. Story telling. Basically, all of this displayed down is from the rambling mind of a harlequin with too many weird ideas in his mind. I won't tell too much about what exactly(BTW; I do not mean in THAT direction). But yea, this is somewhat of a first for me, to spill one's result of ramblings in his mind out in the open. So yea...'''

...

...there it is.]

PS: Sorry if the notification is bleeping an alarm like some prisoner just escaped alcatraz, nothing I can do about it.

The sun rises over a previously cloudy and dark sky as it's rays pierce the heavens to invite themselves over to the people's homes, an incentive to wake up and prepare for the day. Men, women, and monsters mingle in the daily affairs of life, whether it be farming, going out for work, groceries and much, much more. This gigantic city, set beside the very ocean, is one of the firs of this continent to face the sun when it wakes. The people have joyed this for decades, ever more growing with new arrivals. Some were merely travelers that visited the city and, enthralled by its harmony and beauty of the surrounding nature decided to retire from the exploration. Others were soldiers dishearten with their order, never promising any peace and always profiting on the poorest, whom they deserted and saw this city as a sanctuary for their now exiled conditions. Others yet were tired of their neighborhood, mostly aristocrat ones, that always started strife among them, over and over. All had a reason to live among the residents of New Orleans.

With the gates opening, a flood of newcomers saturates the entrance. Humans and monsters mingle, each seeking out a place to call their own. Among all of those, a shadow glides over the very tall gates themselves. A fleeting one, such to the point that only a keen eye would be able to spot it's very timed presence. Or the dark spot jumping from rooftop to rooftop. But, should one be able to notice and follow it with his or her eyes, said the person could have noticed the pack of shadow accosting atop one of the tallest roofs.

The shadow turned out to be a man, slightly taller than the average man. He wears a trench coat, a black one with white lines going from the neck back to the feet. One of his sleeves covers his right arm while the left one is completely absent, showing his bare arm. Well, as bare as an arm covered in chains breathing out a shadow-like energy can be. His pants are also decked in black, interrupted by the few white lines and motives decorating them, like the coat. On the man's back, was a hand ax nested, the steel darker than the ink of a Kraken and the night combined. His coat and pants were covered by a black leather-like material. His face was veiled by a long sheet of black velvet, concealing his entire head as well as his face, but certainly enough, a small sharp form poked out of the right side, making it like he had a singular horn. If one didn't know any better, he could be associated with an ill-intended syndicate, looking like a bruiser.

Watching the crowd flood the gates of the entrance, the man, made a relieved expression with his eyes, the only thing unveiled by his mask. He rests his head, keeping watch of the people coming in, waiting to start a new life in New Orleans when he spots a particular monster. She was a holstaur, dressed with a pristine skirt, fittingly brown with her skin color, which was maroon. The border of her skirt was boarded by a white silk-like material. It seems an arachnid had conceived this dress. The man kept looking at her from the roof as she was entering a food store. As soon as she got out and began walking deeper in the city, he followed. To an ordinary man, keeping track of a not so rare bovine wondering among various monsters in a somewhat small street would be a chore. Yet, this man could easily keep up as he continues to walk to the edge of the roof, cloaked in shadows, invisible to the eye. He continues this act, wondering where this lady would go.

She wondered off for a dozen minutes until finally reaching what looks like to be her home. Entering and locking her door, this was the stop point for the man in black. He notes her address before getting out as the day was just beginning, for he also had work to do for this day. Looking around to see if anyone on the streets is looking up, he takes a step forwards, as he dangles into a fall. And then, letting his other foot follow suit, he falls...straight into a dark empty street,where he lands on his feet, as a loud stump is hear. Within a second or two, he runs, going through the empty hall of streets, seeing as most if not all of the populace has been gathering around the main streets to welcome the new residents.

Minutes later, he opens a rigged rotted and hidden wooden door on the floor of a very old and extremely ran down house. "Clean route, as always," he comments while jumping in after looking left and right. Inside, were laying countless pages of information, mugshots and red wire going from one pic to another. Most of them had an "X" traced over them, in a red paint. Knives also littered mugshots of what looked like criminals. One, in particular, was a man with an eye patch, a black bandana covering his skull and dirty teeth with one being golden. Under said mugshot, stood a faint name, also written in red: Ivan the Slasher. His portrait, however, was marked with an "X" over it, indicating that he was caught by the man in black, who likely is part of a guild who apprehended and escorted dangerous criminals in bounty work. His guild is called the "Shadow thieves" even though ironically, they had yet to commit thievery against the common people, considering their main work was the eradication of the dangerous bunch. In fact, they often steal from other thieves, only to sneak the stolen good back into the hand of the rightful owners, who never knew they were the ones bringing it back since they always disappeared before getting recognition. The man in black was no exception. To the point that in his guild, he was qualified affectionately by his fellows as the "Gentle Giant", mostly because of his stature and his contradicting method of getting his end done, which was via cunning, negotiation and trickery rather than brute force. This impressed the "Shadowman", leader of his guild so much that he became his right hand as Operator to handle sensible things.

The man in black gathers his things, as his guild sent words of a fugitive nearby the cities surrounding the New Orleans was present. He was to capture him, alive and send a signal for the collectors of the guild to take him to the authority. "Easy job," he spoke out loud, as he climbs the stairs, opening the hidden door out of the city...

Easy it was indeed, for the man, despite being a wanted fugitive, didn't think he would be taken in broad daylight. The man in black made him regret that, as he was quickly kidnapped, hidden in plain sight and dragged to a nearby hideout, where he was tied and left waiting for judgment.

A quick job it was, for the man was back to New Orleans before noon occurred. Jumping up the gates, as usual, none saw him enter as he made his way to the holster's house, looking at his watch. "I should be in the times," he whispered as he saw her exit her house to make her way to her usual stop. Entering the pastry. an army of aromas assaulted her nostrils, prompting her to deeply sniff the air as the man in black quietly glided down the rooftop, cloaked in shadow. "My, oh my! This place smells as good as it did all those years ago," she commented to the clerk,  another holstaur, white this time. "Indeed, you know we like to keep things ready for any customer." The brown one was about to start looking at the trays filled with goods, and yet, she stopped, for the bell she heard, the one installed over the door that rang whenever someone entered or exited made its timbre heard. The clerk, before even turning eyes to the door, spoke the usual "Welcome dea-- She stopped in her tracks, both of them surprised that no one came in. "Huh, must have changed their minds." the clerk thinks as her and the other begin discussing what to pick. Unbeknownst to them, however, someone did enter. As they spoke and as the brown holstaur chose her purchases, a shadow at the corner shifts and blurs for a second. A pair of milky red eyes unveils for a second observe them, even as the lady makes her way out, eating most of her goods.

Back at the pastry store, the clerk was witness to a strange spectacle: 30 seconds after the holstaur left, she had sight of the store's door suddenly opening, as if a strong gust of wind forced it to concede. Her eyes widen as she sees the inanimate object get a burst of life and then closing as is nothing happened. Looking at her half-eaten doughnut, the clerk immediately throws it at the trash while shaking her head "I gotta lay off the milk glazed delight."

Following the brown holstaur for the day, the man in black got a lot of information about her. Her name, Clara, her profession, the community gardener, her favorite things, disliked things, hobbies, anything he learned, he strives to make a mental note of it. All while he kept following her to a path he had seen before, but never entered. It was leading them both to a are outside of the city. While the lady seemed to know what she was doing, the man in black, while stalking her, was a tad confused about where she was going, seeing as the path was leading to the farms. Clara certainly seemed interested. "Is he still outside? Is he still outside?" is what the man in black could hear her mutter. "Her discard for that pristine dress she bears is certainly impressive, but to what end is this for?" he wonders.

The bearings of a great wooden fence made themselves present. The familiar noises of outdoor animals audible within miles. The slightly unbearable odor of their left-overs present in the air as well. While focused, the man in black couldn't quite help but being a bit discomforted by the nauseating stench but, somehow, it didn't mind Clara at all. Her face brightening up at the sight of a peculiar barn, she runs straight into a wooden fence, where her face nests over it. At this moment, a young man, of similar age comes out of the said barn, even as the day was packing up for the night. Despite the glossy red sky, he was still doing outdoor work, maybe to make up time or rather to ease up for tomorrow. The man in black, hiding behind a tree, observed the two as Clara watched the farmer at work. He was no expert in emotion by any mean, but, seeing her cheeks pink as cherries, her tail swaying lively left and right, the fact that she held this moment as the most important part of the day had prompted the man in black to decipher that perhaps the young farmer held a special place in her heart. All made clearer as she spoke in a sighing tone "Perhaps he will swing by?"

"So, she does indeed love him..." spoke the man in black while witnessing her blatant emotions for the farmer pour out. The scene, lasting for a few minutes felt like heaven to the lady, before the farmer turned his head and noticed her. From afar, he waves at her but fails to get a response, seeing as she's stuttering too much to muster anything to say or do. It worsens as he drops down his fork, only to be walking to her direction. The man in black, while observing the scene couldn't help but find it a tad hilarious. Alas, this comedic interaction between the two was put to a halt as Clara, unable to cope with the idea of a conversation with the handsome farmer, turned tail and ran away, much to the dismay of the poor farmer who feebly attempted to cross his fence to run after her. Must not have seen a bovine run. That and the fact that he's been rummaging around his farm made for an epic fail of a combo as he drops after barely doing a few sprints.

The man in black, looking at the recovering young farmer dusting his pants off was still processing what he just saw. "So, she really cannot speak to him? Hmm..." Waiting for the man to return to his farm, he makes a dash back to the city, but not back to his hideout. No, tonight, he was going to Clara's house. "She says she wants to go interact with him, but can't muster the courage. I will change that...if only I know how," he spoke to himself, nearing his objective and seeing the torches of her house open. "Seems this will be more delicate than I thought." he continued as he latches on one of her windows. Seems she just got here because he could see her changing dresses. "How endearing" he commented, indulging involuntarily into the voluptuous lady. How one such, as she was still single, is really unfair. "Hmm...maybe I should--" He looked away from the window. As much as a thief he was, he wouldn't ever consider peeping on someone while they were undressing. Instead, with an embarrassed sigh and a coated stretch to evacuate the sudden excess heat he got from playing peeping Tom, the man in black swayed to another window, where her desk happened to be. He spotted a very intriguing letter. "What is this?" he mutters while at it. He could barely make out the big letters:"Application for farm appliances" "Farm appliances?" behind his mask, a smile was forming as he swings back to her room, seeing her this time in her nightgown "This will be easier than I thought."

He stood on her rooftop in a crouched alerted stance, constantly looking left and right among the other roofs to see if anyone could see him. Even if he could use his shadow powers to cloak, he preferred keeping his awareness honed through sharpening. This meant constant training. But, fortunately, all of the people were in their homes. Even the guards he notices mostly patrol the streets. The moment he felt Clara's lamps closing, he went straight for her chimney, light on his feet, and dropped inside. Now in the total dark, the man in black began making his way up to the stairs, in silence, to try and relocate the desk room. "Very beautiful house," he whispered while sneaking in. It was a simple, but decorated interior, most painted in the colors of white, black and brown, with occasional blue. The typical color of seen holstarus. Arriving at the door he sought when entering, he was a bit disappointed to see it was looked.

"Guess I have no choice," he said quietly while taking out small metallic rods, the size of a pen to begin picking the lock. Putting his veiled head to the door, he carefully turned the one inside the lock to the left and right, small clicks indicating he was making progress. In the stillness of the night, the only things breaking the silence were those and his ragged breathing, focusing on the nose as he almost unlocked the door. Alas, as he had finally opened the door, a dreadful sound made itself audible. Something no night wanderer wishes to hear. It was the nudge of a turning doorknob. The man in black swiftly turned his head to the door, seeing the small device trembling under the hand of someone on the other side. "She is awake! Did she hear me?" he thinks as the door slowly opens...

Clara, her eyes strained from sleep and barely open, feebly makes her way to the room just beside her. "Shouldn't forget to put my things in their place." she hazily said while reaching out for the knob of the desk room, only for it to be unlocked, prompting a slight surprise from her "Guess I must have forgotten to lock it." Struggling to find the chain to the fire lamp, the room gently lights up as her hand pulls it down, banishing the dark from the table on which lied the papers about her application. With a keen movement, she swipes the paper up and puts them on the desk. With this done, Clara easily pulls out a key and inserts in into hole under the desk, waiting for a mechanical click to be heard before walking away back to her room.Only when did her room door close that a shadow unveiled, revealing the man in black, suspended on the ceiling, his legs and arms spread. "Hehehehe...that was WAY too close for comfort!" he spoke. As quickly as his sweat was pouring off his mask, he found his feet planted back on the floor, using yet again his small rods to pick the door. The decoration seemed sober to his eyes, compared to the rest of her house. Of course, the man in black wastes no time, picking the lock of the drawer, pilfering the papers he so dearly wanted. "In and out, just like a rabbit out of a hat. Hehehehe" he congratulates himself before his head crooks to the exit. Try as he wanted, he couldn't leave just yet, for him his need to meet her even once has not been met. Keeping his wits about, however, he decides to deny himself this occasion, considering this was not the best way to do such thing and instead makes his way out through the same chimney he used for entrance. And there, in the night, he escapes, returning to his hideout... --- The next morning opens up to a sleepy and cloudy city, the rays of sun and songs from early birds piercing its skies. Soon enough, most of the residents are up and rendering themselves ready for the day, as they did countless times. The man in black, even deep underground in his worn down compartment, could not escape the sun as glimmers of its ray infiltrated his windows to directly impact his shrouded face, leaving the rest of his body in the shadows. With a groan of a sleep-deprived man did he wake up, wondering to his wardrobe, got changed and went to his workbench to figure out the papers he acquired. Minutes later, with the letters and papers concerning Clara the holstaur over the table, besides an empty plate of what looked like to be crumbs of bread and a peanut butter stained table knife, the man in black rubbed his hands together, anticipating what he had before him. Examining them from closer, he noted an official seal of the local administration of farmer's syndicate. Her signature, information, really everything required was filled out. "And yet, with all of this filled and ready to give, she still holds on to it, too shy to muster the courage." the man speaks out, tilting his head up in disappointment. After a few minutes, a sudden *thump* sound is made manifest for a second with the man's foot lying at the source as he stands up. "Well, too bad! I'm kicking the hornet's nest today!" he screamed out, a semblance of a smile forming behind his black drape mask, his eyes slowly turning into a milky red, before vanishing. Steps going up the stairs to his ragged door can be heard.

Going out like the others, the man in black corners into a secluded street, far from prying eyes and climbs up the wall to the roof. He makes his way through the city, thinking of a plan to get the two to meet when he gets to the man's large farm, where he also just woke up but was already at work. "Now that I am here, offer me your secrets, farmer," he mutters, running on the wooden fence while cloaking up, the eyes of creatures too much for him to simply sneak. While his footsteps are somewhat loud, they mostly confuse the critters here, while the man in black sprints to the barn and climbs it, watching the farmer, as a sentry. He observes his every movement.

2 hours later, the man in black is still observing the farmer tend to his critters of the farm when he hears him speak "Sure would be fine if I could see that lady again. Shame she keeps running off every time I waltz over to her."The man in black, intrigued, leans on the edge of the barn, wanting to hear more, an eye opened up slightly larger as the farmer kept blabbing about her. "really? So he also feels the same for her? That's music to my ears." the man in black thinks, before looking at the back of the farm, where he sees a house behind it. In contrast to the red farm, the house was a sky blue so well melded with the heavens that one could have problems seeing it from afar.

Standing as a black patch on a white roof, the man noticed he also has a chimney and enters it, as the man is too into work to notice the black dot wondering about on his house's rooftop. Landing in, he breaks the logs under his feet, spreading a circle of ash and dust. Must have been recently used. The inside of his house bathed in white. Literally. His furniture, sofas, walls, rooms, everything was drenched in white. "Jeez, I do wonder what would be this chap's favorite color..." said the man in black in a very unconvincing way, the rays of the sun bathing his otherwise black outfit as a demi-grey. He wonders the house, looking for anything that could further his goal when he comes upon a torn page. The page looked very old, folded many times, to the point that any rough handling could result in the withered thing to crumble. The ink over it had mostly disappeared, but the picture was not clearer; it was a long shot of several bovine ladies, all standing in a line, holding their dairy products of all sorts. There was cheese, ice cream, milk, really anything possible with them around. It seemed to indicate an event. The man in black walked in a circle, a stranger in someone else's house, trying to decipher what event if could be. But something blocked his mind. His mouth was dry, for he had not drunk anything in days.

"Ehh, one drink here shouldn't cause a riot," he told himself, the gaze turned to the man's food storage. A pristine and cold bottle of milk stood atop of the thing, exactly what the man in black wanted. Picking it up, he squeezed the cap out to drink when something caught his attention. The cap, usually drafted off a chibi holstaur, was different. It looked just like the paper on then he saw a few minutes ago. Well, with slight changes of the women on. The same pic is even present, with the words: Annual draft. "Annual draft? Hmm..." he thought before remembering "Ohh, the big draft. So, he wishes to get a hold of a bovine eh? What stopped him?" he continued, wondering to the various rooms with a half empty bottle of milk, looking at the paper. Then, he thinks back to that minute interaction between the two and remembers how the guy tripped painfully. How clumsy his fall was. No matter how tired or out of it someone can be, there was no way to fail this spectacularly. His thought goes to the man's dust covered face as he fumbled trying to stand up. He was embarrassed, red as a tomato, humiliated as if he had failed something drastic. But, at the same time, the man in black could remember a semblance of relief in a half second. "I guess he also is also way too timid to ask. Or even try anything," he spoke out, putting the bottle in an empty case of milk bottles. A sharp sigh of disappointment escapes his veil, accompanied by a leather gloved hand rubbing the forehead vigorously "Well, this is going to be complicated..."

The man in black no longer lingers in the farmer's dwelling. Sticking to the inner chamber of the house's chimney like a resistant mudstain, he is free to meditate, to gather and round up the information he could about the two, to see what he could do. "SO, the girl, Clara the holstaur, seeks to become a farmer's bovine, and yet she can't bear to go through with it. Probably because she wants to land upon this farmer's land, but can't muster the will to ask...." his eyes squinted as he continued, the concealed inner walls of a chimney were prone to make a man sweat "...despite the fact that her applications are in due form. And it seems this young man has the same issue, unable to compose himself and prone to fumble in his actions. Seems he also wishes for her to be with him, but, because of previous implication, cannot afford a straight forward method." He shakes his head, trying to get the sweat leaking into his eyes off as his hands, too busy keeping his stuck to the walls, cannot assist. "Well, a medium will be needed to converge their path to each other, but what?" he asks, while the idea of searching the farmer's personal room gnaw at his mind, prompting him to slide down the chimney back to wonder, a stranger in someone else' home...

As silent as a thief on the run could, the man in black sprints all the way up the stairs, directing going for the farmer's personal room, forsaking the bathroom, guests' rooms and any other rooms he walks upon. Taking the best of 30 seconds to go through all of the doors, he finds himself standing before the furthest one of the second floor. Being the only one with a lock on the knob, surely it must be his own room. Taking his trusty lock picks, the man in black makes short work of the blocked door and with a gentle push, it opens to an incredibly simple room, one with a bed, a drawer and a wardrobe beside the window to outside. The man in black goes for the drawer, pulling every paper he can for information. One, in particular, was about his farming permit. The man looked at it intensely, scanning it with his eyes, thinking it could help. And help would this paper do, for the longer he was reading it, the more focused he became, the missing piece to his puzzle, potentially found. "SO, this man will need to expand his permit soon. In 5 days precisely. And..." he takes another piece of paper "Seems this chap has not filed an application to take over an holstaur. Well, my dear friend, I happen to have the perfect candidate for you." He looks again at the soon-to-expire formal paper, noticing the seal of a representative. "Hmm, I know where they happen to stay. And, if I'm not mistaken, it will be the same one that wonders around, delivering ladies to farmers. Yes, I will prepare." he spoke, taking the man's papers for an extended permit. Walking out of the door, a small tag on it catches his attention. It is written "Jonas" on it. "Jonah eh? Prepare yourself! Destiny had waited long enough for you..." he started again, his coat seeping shadow enveloping his body "...and came to me to kick you back in shape!" He disappeared, leaving the door closed as if none had even broken its sanctum...

Hoping off the gates, as usual, the man in black, like a dark cloud hops from roof to roof, as he fiddles with the man's inscription he pilfered for an "extra" passenger, his feet moving like an automaton from the repeated use of the similar parkour through the city of New Orleans. His mind, focused, to the point that despite his eyes glued to the paper and pen he handled, he could still feel the surrounding. The aroma of the week of the holstaur that apparently went over his head, filling the air with a panoply of dairy products. The sensation of the flowing wind going through his thieving outfit. The aftertaste of milk still strong in his jaw. The sight of his last puzzle, at last, obtained for the furthering of his master plan. The sounds of the lively town under his feet as things go in the favor of most and a tingle of a high pitched sound...wait, high pitched sound? The man in black recognized that distinct pitch. The sound that one in battle could expect to hear often. Stopping suddenly in his track, the man in black ducks down, throwing his right arm up after a second of two and waits for 2 more seconds before his hand claps on itself, a sensation of something tugged in his palm overwhelming his mind. The holding arm lands down to his eyes, revealing a pretty and polished arrow within his hand. The tip had the shape of a heart instead of the usual arrow head and the feathers at the other extremity were also of royal rose origin. "What the--" the man in black, letting his instincts drive him, pulls out his hand ax and swing it before him. The sound of metals clashing against each other rings in his ears yet again as he looks straight ahead of him.

Many meters away from him, on another rooftop in a kneeling position with a pristine bow, revered in the shades of pink, a woman points an arrow at him. Her dress being of a tank top, one overflowing with hearty motives in white, pink, in between. It crosses close to her navel, yet the thing still visible. The leggings, going up to the knee as a frilly skirt adorned with conceals the rest of the legs. The shoes, a variation of high heels bathed in the magenta, a perfect draft, with the tip decorated with gold. The lady wearing such things even had her hair shaded in a lighter color of pink, less pink than the hat that covered that glimmering beauty. All of this, accompanied by the distinct wings, also drafted in pink, yet in a recoiled state. "A cupid?" the man in black wonders as she jumps the extreme gap between them for her to land on the same roof as him. His sleeveless arm clenches on his ax, a sign of anticipation for battle, although he will probably drag it elsewhere, not wanting any collateral damage. But, while he did expect a confrontation, a pout expression accompanied by an accusation-nary pointed finger right at him was not what he expected, prompting a confused expression that could be seen through his mask "What?". Akin to a child denouncing someone that didn't share, she kept pointing at him and them at his other hand, the one that holds the paper he was fiddling with, rotating between the two constantly. Holstering his ax, the man in black couldn't help but scratch his head in even more confusion, knowing full well he won't be getting any words out of a cupid. Yet, by the way, she attacked him, it seemed he did something wrong. The man looked at his paper, seeing how often she kept pointing at it. He lifts it up, seeing her lift her finger to the same level as it before crossing her arm in an expectation. "What, this?" the man continues, confused about the deal before he stops and thinks while she nods her head, ostensibly waiting for an apology. He thinks about it for a second and then, it strikes him, but not in a sudden manner. His eyes squint while folding the paper inside his coat. With an excusing manner, he speaks "Well, miss, I do apologize for intruding upon your line of work...". Her pout fading from her face with a replacement by a prideful one, she closes her eyes, posing in a boasting stance, only to hear the footsteps of the man as he walks off to the next roof "...but, I really must make this working. I do hope you won't mind too much." Her expression, immediately shifted to a cold trance, a pair of black tipped arrows materializing on her right hand. She was planning on making him focus on something else rather than doing her job. Seeing this, the man in black began running, hopping from roof to roof "I am very sorry miss, but I'm not stopping!"

The high pitched sound these arrows made when flying was even more menacing, as they flew, attempting to hit the man, who with a masterful deflection of his weight and balance center of hips, dodges them with little effort, even though a cupid's accuracy, coupled with her passion for her line of work, should guaranty direct hit. He gets further, but the distance expansion stops with her running after him, shooting more lead arrows, designed to make the struck target yearn for the love of the opposite gender, dried up on their own love and facing a severe lack, akin to one's need to drink regularly. While their chase should be attracting attention, the man's masterful dodges and running, as well as the cupid's wish to avoid unnecessary collateral hits made it so that none could even notice then. Even so, some of her lead arrows coincidentally fell upon marks she had designed to need to 'humble' themselves to love. Throughout the streets, countless people were heard feeling dread, running off to apology and excuse themselves to whomever they felt for, for being unfathomable jerks, whether they be dragons  blinded by their feelings of pride, mantis keeping the cold emotion status quo or even humans that, driven entirely by their work, had denied loving a place in their lives. The cupid, hearing all of this, got on in the ecstasy of overwhelming joy, stopping her chase, with her cold state fading away to watch her handy work grow as many of the struck down marks expressed their love and need of it to those they had offended, forgetting the man she chases. Seeing this as a chance to escape, he chuckled a bit and made his way to the farmer's syndicate building.

Finally reaching the place, the man walks in, where the secretary spots him among the others, being farmers and clients speaking and promptly walks to him, intercepting his path with her happy demeanor. She, dressed as an as a town lady, with wooly fur atop of her head, arms, and legs, in a sky blue color, seemed very happy to see a new face. Well, as a new face of a man who's been here for 5 years straight. And the fact that he constantly wears a mask. "Welcome, sir, to the annual festivities upon which we mix many ladies and working farmers for a fulfilling life as two. What can I do for you?" A delay in his answer was to be expected, for, with everything he planned, he didn't expect someone, really anyone to up and waltz their way to him. A deep sense of discomfort struck echoed from inside, to the point where he fumbled coming up with something to say "ahh...err--well, I am j-just wondering around, miss. I-I would like to know...well if this place happens to have desks to fill out applications..." She looked at him with an odd manner, not sure how of why was the man twitching whilst he attempts to garble words out of his jaw. "Um, well, if you go up the stairs over here... " she pointed to an elaborate flight of stairs that spiral all the way to the ascendant floors "...you should get a hold on one of our representatives. If you want a quick response, be sure to get to our prime leader, miss Zara--o wait, sir, where are you going!?". Knowing full well how those in leading work, the man in black began his ascension through the stairs with a running pace, to the dismay of the secretary who ran after him, seeking to assist him "Sir! Sir, you will get lost up the--!?". The moment her feet had reached the second floor, her sight of the man in black had eroded by the gap they were from each other. As such, he was nowhere to be seen. Frankly looking for him, her efforts were vain. She sighed "Well, maybe he will find his way". The echoes of metal collided with her feet descending the stairs, back to her post.

The whole second floor was surprisingly quiet considering the immense chattering of the crowd at the main halls as their annual mix continued throughout the week. The rare sounds one could expect to hear were the representatives muttering and speaking to themselves as they filled the applications. That, and the footsteps of a muffled pair of boots. The man in black lied in a kneeling state, before the secretary, hidden by his shadows. He couldn't have hidden in more plain sight if he tried.With that done, he wonders the large halls of the second, seeking out that so-called representative. a brown seal envelope, pilfered from the secretary was to be the official holder of the two he wished knitted together until his attention stopped him in his track, his head slowly rotating to the right to a door with a golden plate where the name stood. "Zakaria Douglas". He took a few steps towards said door, of polished wood and slipped his envelope under the door. "Now, we wait for the pieces to fall together." he softly spoke to himself, going back to the stairs to ascend further, so that he may reach the rooftop and exit via here. Two souls will be greatly confused within the next days... -- The next came about with cloudy skies, despite the sun burning at the other side, the only indication of morning present being the distinct lack of darkness outside. Whether the sun was here or not, anyway wouldn't have mattered to the man in black, as he daily wakes up at the same time every day. As usual, even when sleeping, his ragged mask covers his face, not leaving his side for the most of 5 years. Breakfast time, taken with leisure, filled him with more than what he would need, considering today was not a day where his guild would need him. "All I need to do now, is wait for the pieces to fall in place" he speaks to himself, his mind reminiscing of the recent memories of what he went through for his plan to work. The holstaur Clara who has her heart out for farmer Jonah, but couldn't muster the will to interact. That same inhibition stopping her from ever signing up for the annual Dairy Cow Association, probably from fear of being tagged with someone else. The boy Jonah, feeling the same for her but being too inept to actually try anything. The blank application papers for his sign up at the same association, not ever fulfilled for the past years. The two pages delivered together for the representative to meld them together. He couldn't wait to see his plan fall in place, the excitement being overwhelming even when he looked as calm as still water. Soon enough, the man in black made his way to the surface, out of his hideout.

As usual, the rooftops were his principal means of transport, as any agile one would make use of them. He hops from one to another, the sight of the Dairy establishment ever coming closer. This time, he wants to do things right. This time, he takes a sprint from the closest roof towards it and jumps... as high as a raven soaring to the skies but instead, lands loudly on the roof of the dairy establishment, his landing speed stature and the jump height sending a "clamp" noise against the roof's surface. "So, seems this annual festival is still going strong..." he comments to himself, seeing the myriad of visitors entering. Indeed, the mass decibels seeping from the inside and exteriors of the building was pretty enormous. And yet, among all of the people he could see from his vantage point, he couldn't help but notice an oddly dressed bovine woman walking out of the mass of people, easily slipping through them all. Gnawed by curiosity, he continues to watch her while predicting her most probable pathway. It triggered a pump of concentrated adrenaline through his veins, seeing her walking toward the distinct neighborhood of Clara. Especially since the streets she took were directing going for her house. "Joy, joy, joy! The pieces are moving on their own. Soon, the divergent paths will soon converge and meld. Makes me proud..." he joyfully hummed walking off the edge with his arms spread as he falls in an empty street near miss Zakaria, hidden in the shadows and trailing her wherever she walked. It seems she was also very excited, seeing how particularly jumpy she looked like while retaining her calm. This walk of hers, increasing in excitement for both her and her stalker abruptly ends the moment she finds herself facing the closed door of Clara's home. Suppressing her untamed joy in a bottle, a knock vigorously heard prompt an answer, with a pair of eyes veiled watching every action...

"Hello, resident Clara here, how may I assist you, miss..?" she inquired

"Welcome, dear miss. I am known as Zakaria Douglas, representative of the annual festivities of the Dairy Cow Association." she held out her free hand to shake.

"Oh yes, I've heard about that. It's happening right now, is it not?" Clara asked, shaking her hand.

"Yes, it is. I'm glad you know before I didn't expect you would ever sign up for it, of all the recipients we get per years."

"What do you mean by that? I'm afraid I'm quite lost." Confusion riddled Clara's usually happy expression, with her ears perking up.

"I was too when receiving your application, coupled with whom you specifically wished to be tied with."

"Really?" Clara's ears wiggle with excitement as well as her cheeks flushing red. Alas, the look of contentment from the representative was more than enough to prompt her to stop, as her nervousness kicked in, at the prospect of going through with it.

"Yea, really" she smiled, trying to ease her unexpected client "Seeing your name on it really got to me. You had always skipped it, so I wanted to walk you to the farm where your caretaker will be waiting."

The man in black absorbed every word they spoke, as the imaginary paths he formed in his mind fitted themselves further and further "This...this is going even better than even I've had anticipated. She really wanted it happening." Crouched behind a set of trashcans, he continued, awaiting any improbability that could arise.

"But...but..." Clara stuttered at the rep's sentence "Does he know? Won't he refuse? Maybe it's going too fast for him?"

"No worries, I assure you, we sent someone to check secretly on his farm. He's  ready for something like that." Zakaria re-assured.

"But, maybe he does not have enough space for me?" Clara continued, poking her fingers together with her face glowing redder.

"Nope, our inspector was very thorough with his inspection. He's more than able to care for your needs."

"But..maybe he already has some--

"Not really, seeing as he personally requested you to be the one he'd care for" the rep interrupted, knowing what objection she minds has in hand. Seeing her potential new farm bovine stutter trying to come up with an excuse to cancel it made her smirk a bit.

"Uhh...uu uh hh" Clara had nothing else to say. Part of her was brimming with excitement while the other was nerve wracked about living close to him. With a sigh of slight relief, however, she bowed down, her cheeks still red. "I'm ready if you will, miss."

"Right away. Please follow me, I know where it is." The rep nodded, turning around to walk while a confused Clara stared at her.

"Wait... you're coming too?"

"Well of course..." she confirmed, turning back with a smirk "...seeing two who usually skipped it suddenly signing up for something like that is prompt to cause some awkwardness. I need to make sure your first meeting does go without incidents."

At first, embarrassment was what painted Clara's face red. As a few seconds passed, however, she quickly realized, this was her chance, to finally get to meet him, even if that was sudden. Composing herself, she decides to follow the rep, wagging her tail with anticipation.

The clouds, while ever present on this particular day, had yet to rain upon them, as if wishing to avoid ruining something like that. Which was very needed with Clara getting ever closer to the farm with Zakaria the rep. The man in black follows, not far, but ever out of sight. Trailing to the man's settlement, the representative spoke to Clara, asking about her. She wanted to know everything, her age, hobbies, favorite meals, profession. Anything that would help ease the first contact between a two previously timid persons. Of course, seeing the barn from a few meters, Clara's nervous state returned in force as she turned heels to walk the other side. Well, for two seconds before miss Zakaria flipped her the other side, grabbing the shoulders "Now, now, we don't want to have walked all this way to back out now, do we?" Clara sweated at this, being pushed by the rep towards the farm while the man in black positions himself to the nearest tree to observe. With only a few meters before breathing in the air of the farm, the two were well aware of a figure, tending to the feeding of his animals. He carries on for a few more seconds, basking in his work, as well as a pair of chicks rubbing their heads against his feet, a sign of affection. "Aww, you two look hungry," he says with his hands gathering inside a bag to hand them some grains to feed on. Happy chips fill his surrounding area with many more chicks running to his hands to feed as well. Whilst doing so, he after a time holster his head up, for he felt a pair of eyes lingering on his person and a mix of surprised and clumsiness suddenly writhed all over him. Seeing Clara, so close, being brought here by the very rep leader could only mean one thing to him. "Well, dang, I'll be. I never thought today would be the day of all days" he muttered, not sure whether he should walk over to them or simply wave. He decided to walk...

...Only for him to fall flat pm his face after only two steps, his chick chirping in panic and fleeing the scene. The rep scratched her head in slight discomfort, being witness to this very display of fumbling maneuvers. Clara's face brimmed in red in comparison, while the clumsy caretaker picked himself up to dust off his pants, a silly laugh escaping his jaw in response. His walk interrupted via a loose piece of wood lying beneath him, his fall not any less embarrassing than the first one. "He can't be serious..." comments the rep, noting the second fall following the first 10 seconds after. With his face covered with mud, none could see the reddened cheeks in humiliation this poor man was afflicted with. And yet, Clara, while she should have been furthermore nervous about the slightly funny amount of bad luck this farmer Jonah afflicted himself with, instead jumps over the fence, at the surprise of the rep who's face buried itself in her hands, shaking left and right. Clara sprinted herself straight for the young man with a pristine napkin on her left hand as he was barely getting up, seeing her closing line on him. "Hello miss." he tried disarming the situation only for his mud-covered hand to spray the dirty liquid on her lower skirt. He growled in embarrassment, avoiding her stare and shifting his head to the other side. However, a gentle hand came to his view as it cupped his chin, to slowly turn it back to her, smiling with the reddest of cheeks. A familiar sensation rubbed his face, akin of a towel as she wiped the mud and dirt off him "Why hello there, I'm Clara. I've been told I would be in your care, but it seems I need to care for you in return." Jonah couldn't quite hide the blush that has been going on with his cheeks now stain-free and the familiar sensation of embarrassment after fumbling up...

"huh...I'm Jonah." he said, slightly evading her gaze "Nice to...well...finally meet you, miss."

She helps him up, countering his every attempt at averting her gaze with a small chuckle "Well, sir Jonah, I will be staying here from now on. Please, take care of me."

"Wait, why? I never signed up for something like this," he questions, sure of his words.

"Oh really? Then maybe our little lady over here really wanted to be in your care." interrupted the rep, walking next to Clara, smirk in hand.

"WAAHHH!?..." escaped Clara's jaw, taken by surprise "But...b-but... I didn't"

"Ohh, so you wish to go back home? I understand." replied the rep, before an even more baffled holstaur conflicted with the idea to either try it or give in to her panic.

"Well, if she wants to try it out, I don't particularity mind." Jonah twirls his fingers, avoiding her gaze.

"You see, even he wants to give it a chance. You wouldn't want to disappoint us two, now do you?"

Clara's face blinked in red. If she speaks too much, a complete loss of rational thought could strike her. But, at the same time, they were now, at last, face to face. Holding on to the last bit of calm she has, she forms a singular word with her lips "...ok..."

"Excellent" spoke out loud the rep "You two have already signed with your names and everything has been arranged to accommodate your new beginnings. Should there be any problem, make sure to call me.~

The rep begins making her way out of the farm, leaving the two alone for her hand had dealt the cards and now, she sensed it was time to let them know each other. With every step she took, the clouds in the sky manifested the intention of raining, rumbles within echoing through the plain where the farm stood. Small droplets began falling seconds after said rumbles, painting the place in a misty water. Clara, not dressed for rain put her hands over her head. A warm coat embraced her all around, rain falling all over it, but thick enough to effectively protect her. "A shame you didn't think of bringing something in case it would rain. This should help." Jonah took her by the shoulder and began leading her to his home, the one behind the farm. Amazingly enough, the previous stroke of incompetence he was a victim of seemed to hastily evaporate. She could see it in his eyes even as he looked straight at the direction they were walking. "I honestly don't know what happened for her to bring you under my care, but, if it happened, so be it, ma'am. I'll care for you..." he mutters, slightly nudging her by his side. Clara, feeling the warmth that is the semi-hug he was giving her, completely let herself bloated on his arm, her cheeks flushing in red, with an expression full of bliss, instead of embarrassment this time. And from there, with the month passing, they got to know each other. What they like as an individual. The most mundane things, they spoke of them for hours, reveling in the other's eyes. Jonah helped her accommodate in the farm, as she began doing tasks around as well. During that month, the things she would want to be moved would inexplicably be found stalking before their home, in pristine condition, placed with great care. With each day passing, the two got closer and eventually became a couple.

The only thing that ever stopped them from fully achieving thing previously was a machine of Jonah, in the back of his barn. With Clara being a holstaur, special needs needed to be fulfilled. Something she usually had another one of her kind do for the time being. Two weeks and 3 days in, her chest became slightly more swollen, she rushed to Jonah, hoping to have that "problem" fixed. And he did have a solution, but not one that would please her. Indeed, leading her to the barn's furthest station, he unveiled a milking machine. And immediately, Clara had denied it. She would absolutely not use it, despite his attempts at convincing. This turned into an argument, with the man in black witnessing all of it while standing on their rooftop. For someone as cunning as he was, something like that would require a blunt solution. It was usually not something he did, but, knowing how the bovines were with a sensible handling of this issue and how they preferred tender hands to cold metal, he acted, deep in the night.

Next morning, Jonah would have attempted his roommate Clara to at least give the machine a chance. Walking in the barn, they both had seen said tool in pieces, mangled and broken beyond repair. Jonah's expression was of utter panic whilst Clara's was one of hidden relief "Thank whoever did this. Now, perhaps..." Panicked, he was, for no alternate machine was available, nor did he think of purchasing a second one. But, rather than argue more, putting a serene expression, did Clara walk up to him, flipped him to face her, took his hand and gently placed it directly on her chest, cheeks, and the tip of her ears, red as cherries. Jonah was confused, but had a surprisingly honest tone, unbridled by anything that might have to dampen his words "Ma'am, is this what you wanted?" She looked at him, flustered, but anticipating it as well. A simple nod of her head, it was clear. Of course, a cold steel machine wouldn't cut it. His hand, leaving her bosom to pick her hand, he gently tugs it, promptly her to follow him. He wanted her to be comfortable and a barn certainly opposed such attempt. Minutes later, at the clear of the night, under a tree, the one tree across the plains, he leads her, a bucket in hand, a stern visage with bits of doubts.Clara's was one of anticipation, even as she gazed into the stars of the dark blanket covering the sky. Next, to the tree, a simple chair stood about.

Jonah took the advance, his steps, heavier than ever, his mind, none the clearer about the next minutes. Would she really trust him into doing it for her? Surely she could do that herself. He had no experience with something like that before and yet, there she was, eagerly following in his steps. Even as he sits, she waits, her hand melded together. "Are you sure you want to do this? I'm kind of new at this," he asks solemnly. His hands sweaty, damp. He looks at them. They're too jumpy. He needs to calm down. She, looking at his dilemma, begins to doubt. He seems too nervous for this. Maybe it's too soon? Should she consider putting this very primordial step for another time? Thinking about that, her heart feels heavy, swollen. She won't be feeling her man's gentle arms lovingly tendering to her personal need. A cloud of sorrow emerges from the corner of her face. He sees it and understands. Maybe it is too soon for them to truly be together. Without notice, however, a soothing sensation caresses their ears. Music! But, from where? How could it make it's way to them? There was no one around and the wind can easily erase any sort of sound beneath it. Even with that, it calms their minds, opening it to each other. It blurs the barrier of discomfort and first-time apprehension. Jonah smiles, his inner mind thanking whoever is the source of it. A small thing, refreshing his dampen hands. He takes Clara's hand, to her surprise, but lets him lead her to his lap, where she sits.They look at each other, the music deep within their souls, putting a thread between them, to link them. He raises one of his hand to one of her dress' buckle...

And latches it off, exposing one of her swollen breasts, already leaking a bit. She gasps in a high pitch."It's all right." he whispers in her ear, her hand gripping his arm embracing her stomach. With his free hand, he slowly makes his way to her second buckle, before it falls off as well, revealing the second swollen breast. Even from behind, he could see them. Perfect shape, the purest of white, even when she was often out into the sun. Clara squirms in embarrassment, yet he whispers sweet words in her ears, taking her hand with his other. They hold one of each's hand for a minute, taking the time, for her, to calm down and believe in intention, betraying the inexperience that once troubled him. And he, to admire her beautiful, yet humble shape, one that hid most of her monster-like features, until exposed. She leans onto him, silent, yet blushing in anticipation. Her stare being the sign he awaits, he takes his two hands on each of her breasts and slowly begins massaging them, making her slightly moan. A bit hesitant, he thinks of stopping. Yet her hands lay on his, pleading him to continue, that it's normal for her to shriek a bit. And so, he does, reveling in her soft skin, akin to silk on the richest nobles. "So soft..." his mouth slips out before he could think. She blushes more. "Glad you think so... darling." her ears are down, red as cherries as his caress progressively moves closer to the tip. Her moans becoming slightly more loud and loving. her legs shake slightly with her hands over her thighs following as well. Soon, though, his hands grab her breasts from underneath and resumes, steam emanating from his shirt, a sign of honest feelings. His strokes get more vigorous, accelerating her cries. Her head turns a bit to him, bearing him the sight of her flustered state. Her blues eyes, filled with tears, though not a single drop seeping out from any pain or misery, but rather from her feelings escaping through them. Her cheeks, even more, perked up than the time he first hugged her. Her ears, wiggling as well as her tail, even when restrained by his chest. And most importantly, the part that really gets him running: her lustrous lips. Their pink luster was really enticing, even when she wasn't flustered like she is. His mind thought of how they would taste. Hers could rival even the most well dressed of human nobles women, those ripe withing royalty and would more than often paint them with jealousy, especially because they were part of a common citizen, rather than a royalty. He wanted to kiss them deeply...

Yet restrained himself to his task, coming closer to fruition. He could feel the liquid inside accumulating within her chest, his goal almost here. His eyes, however, were locked on her face. With each rubbing, his desire to quiet her moan with a kiss grew larger, synchronized to her nearing her end. His fingers move to the tip of her breasts, rubbing them with the utmost care, like a very detailed crafting. Clara could feel the tip about to let loose, and with that, her tongue slipped out, tempting him, almost beckoning Jonah to chase it with his. Mere seconds from bursting open, her nipples were wetter than ever. Alas, all that milk would go to waste, for Jonah, no longer able to keep himself focused, instead took one of Clara's leg to flip her, facing him and they locked lips with her. The act itself was unexpected and had her expression turned into one of shock. Yet, it was only a fleeting moment, for seeing it, he stopped...only for her, blissful by it, returned a longer kiss, surprising him this time, while her arms enveloped his neck to latch on. He closed his eyes, as did she, this sense being unneeded at the time. Jonah was in heaven right now. He had heard rumors of holsters tasting like their dairy products from many of those who were with one. But this, this were surpassing everything he thought he knew. Her soft lips, her sweet breath, her moist tongue, they all melded in a vanilla-like scent and taste. His arms surrounded her waist, dragging her chest closer to his, even as the milk he worked so hard for was spilling on his shirt, lost forever. He didn't care, nor did she, taken in the moment. The music they had heard, erased itself from their minds, no longer needed. Instead, sweet words, between their kisses, would take their rightful places, filling the otherwise silent void of the night and breaking the monotony of the winds.

Hearing of this, a shadow, hidden on the other side of the tree where they were experiencing their first steps as a true couple, detached itself from the large wood, a windy flute on its right hand. "Their paths once divergent, they walk one unified road, ever stretching to the horizon." he quietly whispered amidst the winds "They will be fine from now on." The man in black, tucked his flute, satisfied that his mere instrument was the thing that tipped one to another. Following the direction of the winds, he left the two alone, unnoticed by either, his black outfit fading into nothingness...

Ever since that kiss among the stars, Jonah and Clara, now together, would schedule their milking session under the same tree, every time her chest would ache for it. Ever so often, the man in black would come back, hidden, to listen to their conversations, when he was not needed by his fellows. One day, however, would dictate his subterfuge unveiled. Indeed, sneaking to the farm, deep in the night where all animal lay to sleep and man doing the same, he walks up to their porch, standing on the border of polished wood, where Jonah sat on a rocking chair, eagerly waiting for his new wife, Clara to make the final touches for their supper, cooked stew. The aroma could be smelled even from where he was and he looked forward to it. "5 minutes," she asked of him and thus, he watches the clear sky full of stars. The man in black seemed content, observing on the monorail of wood, yet an unfortunate gust of wind had derailed his balance, prompting him to take a heavy step to keep standing over. Jonah had heard it and shifted his head towards the source, seeing nothing, yet feeling someone was here. "Is anyone here?" he asks, curiously without a sense of panic. The man in black abstains from answering, yet Jonah kept up "I know someone is here, please show yourself." Still no answer. {He knows I'm here} devised the man in black, preparing to leave, when the resting farmer mentioned his recent changes "You know, recently, my life had taken a drastic turn, things I have yet to understand, but I am truly happy for it. An outside force must have contributed to this. Seeing as whoever you are is hiding, I take it you are the one behind this..." he stood up, walking to the estimated location where he had heard the foot clasps and bowed down deeply "And for that, I thank you. But, if I may, would you be kind to step forward?"

The man in black, feeling like this conflict had long been resolved, followed suit. The coat of invisibility broke out with one step he took to the farmer. Jonah was firstly slightly intimidated, for he sighted a thief with a tattoo crossing his sleeveless arm in an otherwise completely black outfit. That faded quickly, replaced by a sense of gratitude, expressed via a reaching hand. "So, you ARE the one that orchestrated this," he spoke with a happy tone, his hand shaken by the man in black.

"For weeks, I have observed you and your newly wedded bride, pondering as to why two souls that were meant to be linked, so apart from each other."

"Hehe, you must have known that we were unable to act on our own then, seeing how our interaction was brief and escaped." Jonah laughs, in slight embarrassment.

"Yes, I did. Just like the others, you two were too timid to approached each other, blotted by the comfort of your zone, hoping the other would cross the first line toward your own path. Yet it failed to happen."

"Yes it was." he laughed some more, realizing a stranger did the most for them " I realize now that you've been doing a lot for us."

"It is of no concern, I felt no burden doing so. I just can't stand and watch a potential blossom wither away." the man in black replied. "But it seems my flute play has permanently distorted the wall that prevented your heart from hiding behind it. A wall of clumsy actions."

"Ohh, so you were there?" he asked, feeling a bit shameful "So, you have heard everything?"

"Only what I needed to hear. The moment the soothing flute was no longer needed, I took my leave. There is no need to feel resentment. I know when my deed has been done. After all, I have been doing this for 4 years." the man in black expresses proudly, at the spaced out Jonah, noticing how quickly the calm thief turned his expression to pride and accomplishment.

"I see. Well, I take it you must know who I am if you watched my actions for weeks. But, I know nothing of you, kind sir."

"Yes indeed. As a token good fortune, I will give you my name with my best wishes for you two."

Jonah listened closely at the next words the man in black was about to spill. They walked off the air, barely noticeable, yet fully heard by the grateful husband. "You may call me...Bentley. That is my true name, undisguised by a hidden name. It is something I give, as a gesture of goodwill to those whom I linked with their true mates. Be it humans and monsters. A way to try to reinforce the bridge between the two kinds."

"Bentley...well, you may come here anytime if you want to talk. Our door will always be opened to you." expressed the farmer with utmost joy. "In fact, I think Clara should meet the man who fermented such a plan for us both."

"Dinner's ready" the two could hear from inside the kitchen, sending Jonah's stomach in a mighty grumbling. He promptly opens the door but the first thing he does is bring Clara outside, adorned with an apron over her dress. "What is this about?" she asks, curious about him leading her.

"There is someone I wish you to meet." he quickly says.

"There's someone on our porch?"

"You'll see."

In a matter of seconds, they are both outsiders, yet, no sign of the man in black around. Jonah, incredulous calls out to his new friend. "Sir Bentley? Are you still here? Please come out, I want her to meet you." The only response was the wind gently blowing around, despite Jonah continuing to call out. "Dear, whoever was here, I think he's gone," she tells him, a hand on his shoulder. Jonah was disappointed and a tad sad. He wanted to tell her about the one who made sure they would meet. Alas, without him around, he thought she wouldn't truly believe him. Maybe he will come back at one point. ~Anyway, I know you're hungry, so come one.~ she grabs his arm and they both re-enter their house, the sound of plates echoing inside.

The man in black found himself quickly in town. Being in the night, most were indoors. He walks outside, aimlessly wondering to his hideout, his place to call his own. Suddenly, turning to a street, he comes across a mirror. It lays by a secluded corner of a street. He approaches it and hears a whimpering sound behind. He lifts the thing up, a small kitten behind it. It shakes in fear, looking around the darkness. The kitten seems to have no owner, being alone in the dark. "Poor little guy," he says, kneeling to cautiously reach out with a hand. The kitten immediately rubs it's head against his palm, at his utmost surprise. "You really want a home too? Then come with me, little one, I will care for you," he asks the small kitten. It's response, licking his palm twice before trying to climb his arm. Bentley picks it up and sets it on his shoulder. "What should I call you?Hmm...Jerry, how does that sound?" The kitten purrs at the sound of that before sleeping on the shoulder. "Jerry it is then. Tomorrow, I'm getting a collar with your name on it." He was about to walk off when he heard a crack through the night. He looks back. The mirror. It has a singular crack on it. Bentley approaches it, his masked face fully presented in it.The crack seems to try to represent him in another manner. What could have made it crack like that? Bentley got curious, inspecting it more...

But he heard the high pitch on an arrow. He sidesteps to the right, the projectile ending its course on the now shattered mirror. "What the!?" he exclaims, taking Jerry in his arms before facing the direction of the shot arrow. The cupid was bad, anger teeming through her otherwise calm expression. More lead arrows armed with the bow. She pointed yet again, an accusing expression to him directly. "Look, I'm sorry for playing cupid, but things li--" She shot two lead arrows at the same time, forcing him to jump on the wall. "Miss, can you please not do that? I am trying to ex--" more arrows flew at him. He climbs up the wall with a trail of arrows following suit and sprints off over the roofs. "I didn't know they took their job so seriously. Where were she 4 years ago?" he speaks to himself, under fire, escaping to his hideout, ever trailed by that cupid, breaking the otherwise calm state of night...