Whirling around just as fast as the strange red clad man had left, Justin was greeted with nothing. Silence, darkness. His chest slowly rising and falling in a calming nature, he merely let his scowl deepen and his eyes became more like the void of a ocean in turmoil. He had heard something, for sure. Making his way slowly to where he had witnessed the noise, his careful and deliberate strides made naught a sound. He was like a cat in the jungle, a ninja blending with the shadows. Despite the white randomly splotched on his attire, such as his mantle, he nearly melded in with the shadows itself.
"Come out, soul to be judged." His voice was soft, melodious and as sweet as dark honey. Despite the fluid warmth to it, there was a underlying hint of darkness that mangled and twisted his words slightly in not only a austere way, but a demented way. "I know someone is in there. Come out, don't be shy."
A light, hushed giggle sounded from within the emptiness of the dark alleyways, flirtatiously bubbling and soft, girly. Yet before the cat could pinpoint the vixen, he vanished yet again, a light gust of wind blowing past the priest's neck and ear, warm and inviting with a hint of cinnamon and vanilla. Smooth lips pressed against the nape of Justin's neck, nipping lightly with a wandering tongue, slender hands curling around the tall framed one's back, clawing lustfully at his chest. Pointed teeth snapping shut onto the lobe of Justin's ear, drawing blood. All happening in merely seconds...then once again. Nothing. The Shinigami had seemingly vanished in a spark of cinders it seemed. Watching from atop the bell tower once more.
Eyes widening and his body flinching from the nip and the sexual contact, the boy whirled around. As he did, there was a flash of brilliant light and the sound of grazed metal as a blade formed, protruding from his sleeve. It glistened, deadly and tempered, in what few streetlamps were on. It was his weapon, his instrument of divine justice and judgment. He was a bloody executioner. He was a roaring warrior. The wayward Priest, he was far from innocent, and now he stood there with his guillotine blade pointed towards the darkness and his heart thudding in a frantic tattoo that slammed, over and over, against his ribcage.
"What...t...treachery is...t-this?" Finding he was stuttering, he gulped a little. He had to calm himself. His aura and wavelength was shuddering. What exactly was that?
Not even wanting to keep up his silent charades, but more toy with his target, the Shinigami let out a chuckle that seemed to echo from nowhere and everywhere at once, bouncing around the clergyman before settling into silence. Once again behind the priest, a loud cranking noise from a cord was heard, being pulled.
Once...Twice...Thrice.
A growling howl from a motor accompanied the final noise, snarling out as the blissful symphony of metal blades whirling and ripping into the air with ease. It was a chainsaw...a damn chainsaw, pulsing with the aura of a divine tool of death.
With a snap, the heavy instrument was hurled forward, whizzing past the priest's face as it's shining metal nearly kissed his cheek. The decorated tool that would stand almost as long as it's owner was in height, slammed and crunched into a distant wall easily, like a hot knife through butter...for Grell's scythe cut through anything.
"Ah, my sweet dark rose of love, tainted sickly black from your wicked desires~ How your metallic thorns enrapture me so. The blood of many dances upon your frame like a divine bath only those worthy of it's flavor can witness!~" The red reaper chimed as he ran towards the startled man, dipping down and sliding on his heels and knees, his hands wrapping around firm thighs and buttocks as he swung himself around the other, only to roll backwards and flip into a standing position. Blowing a kiss, he did another back flip and landed next to his weapon, eyes never leaving his befuddled prey as his purring scythe was ripped from the wall.
Feeling both shaken and violated, the Priest stumbled backwards, tripping on his own two feet. In a blur of black and white, the boy fell down ungraciously. Sprawling on the ground, he twitched, instantly sitting up and scooting back from the man. He felt a tiny trickle of blood on his cheek. So minor a cut, he didn't even feel it. As for his rear end, he had been groped, yes. That didn't happen often.
Flustered, for the most part, the boy quickly shot to his feet. Coughing into a fist, he made a display of dusting off his religious robes, patting them free of any dust and wet debris that he might have encountered when he had swept the ground, literally. Slowly looking up at the man, his cheeks slightly red with embarrassment, he found his body tensing up. "S-Such...strange words you speak to me, Shinigami." Yes. That was it. His eyes narrowing, his vision blossomed into a form of the man's aura. It was divine, and ungodly in power.
This man was dangerous.
Deciding to play with the cards that had been dealt to him, he chuckled. Placing his hand over his heart, he eloquently bowed to the red haired death God. "My, my, such wonderful compliments you give me~!" Standing up again, he raised his arm, his guillotine blade catching a ray of light from the nearby lamp post. It was as if it was beckoning the man to come closer, so more blood could be spilt. "A divine bath of blood. A baptism in my sinful nature, I suppose? Alas, that is how people see it. However, I find that I am happy, doing the will of my new God, the Kishin."
"A Kiiishinnn~? How exotic to find a worshipper of such a rare beast~", the red reaper said as he slowly shook his head, sharp tooth grin spreading ever-wide to rival that of the Cheshire cat. Bringing the whirling, clawing blades up just inches from his own face, he let out a demented giggle, body adorning a slight red glow to the edges. "Well my sweet tongued clergyman of sin, tell me. How is it that a delightfully wicked lustmuffin such as yourself finds his way into London my dear~?" His soothed, voice cooing in a velvety sweet tone that melted into the tense air.
Giving a wink and a flirtatious dance as he stood in place, his own face began to tint to match his crimson hair. "Ah, how the red looks so fetching on you my love~ I wish I could dowse your clad form in that color and watch you squirm in it, then lap it up after I rip that beautifully sinful heart from your ribcage~ hehehe~"
Turning a little so not to see the obviously gender confused Shinigami head on; the priest stared at him from the corner of his eye. He decided to leave the comments alone... for now. He shuddered inwardly, trying not to listen to the man's voice or sexually orientated comments. Sucking in his breath and expelling it in a long, ragged groan, he found his slender fingers caressing the edges of his pendant. "I came here, on behalf of my boss' orders. You should smell what I have on me, if you are a true Shinigami." His eyes hardened, and his scowl turned into a sick grin. "And as for the color red..." He took his hand, taking the edge of his fingers, running it down his tight fitting robes. "Honestly, I care to see nothing with red on me. Red... doesn't fit me quite well. I'm more of a 'black' person, myself..."
"Ahh," he purred, voice husking into a lower tone. "But black should be your trademark, I guess, since it matches your tainted, dirtied soul so well~" Running his tongue over his lips, he gave a light giggle once more before dancing a few steps closer to his opponent. "Ahhhhh, well, that's one thing we have in common, though vague in comparison." Holding the massive object with just one frail hand , he waved a spare finger at the clergyman in a taunting way. "You and I both have a boss, are both workers, and both feel our point of view are in the right, while the other is wrong, hmmnn~?" He gave another wink, resting his spare hand on his curvaceous hips. "My how those robes cling to your form my sweet stranger of the night~ Might I ask the name of such a wicked warrior~?"
Feeling his skin get cold, pricking with a strange, tingling sensation, Justin grinned wickedly. This man was almost as madness inducing as the Clown. "Black is my life, sadly, but I like the darkness. I see better in it. I feel better in it. In the absence of light, one's senses sharpen, do they not?" He found himself taking the equal number of steps the red Shinigami did. He didn't dance, but instead walked so silently that he seemed to merely glide within the coiling wisps of fog. "A boss, yes, but I doubt yours is like mine. Yours must a fellow Shinigami, correct? Shinigamis must stick together. My boss, is not my God. He is a warlock, or sorts." He took one more step, his eyes suddenly dancing with a dangerous light. He heard the compliment, and a eyebrow quirked a little. "Well, I must say, your red coat gives highlight to your sensual curves." Now literally face to face with the Shinigami, a psychotic grin plastered himself on his otherwise calm face. "My name is Justin Law, and I am the Deathscythe of your execution."
"Ahh, how charmingly psychotic!~" The red head squealed, face heating up as he momentarily spazzing, accidentally waving his chainsaw around like an epileptic, face fully crimson as a small leakage of blood oozed forth from the squirming and writhing man's nostrils. Glasses fogging up, his hips did a habitually sexual sway within the air. "Ahh so the true colors break forth~! Lovely, lovely! The Shinigami and the Deathscythe, tool and reaper, dancing beneath the moonlit skies. Hooww romantic~!"
In a snap, his flush was gone and he gave a wink once more. "I'll tell you miner after a kiss, if you can catch me~" His eyes piercing as his soft smile widened and in a split second, he had slammed his forehead into the other's, eyes widening with demented glee as his knee crashed up between the priest's legs, slamming upward into a world of pain. He then flipped backward, avoiding the recoiling attack that would have naturally been sent his way. Hopping up and landing lightly onto a rooftop, Grell beckoned Justin with a single, silk covered finger, his stance and expression in a 'come hither' mode. "Don't keep me waiting, Jus-TIN-kunnnnn~" He chimed in a silky singsong moan.
Making sure he took a tiny step back from the obviously disturbed, if not beyond flaming Shinigami, he made sure not to get cleaved in half by the chainsaw that seemed to now have a mind of his own. Great, he thought. Reminds me of Giriko when he's drunk. Just that there's now a flaming man attached to said chainsaw. He tried not to get distracted by the man's horny visage. However, he didn't have time. In a flash he saw a blur of red hair. When the man retreated his head, he saw the yellowed eyes of a crazed cat peering at him. The red he saw now was not only the man's hair, but now the blood that was dribbling down from the priest's forehead.
Then it came. That jolting pain. That agonizing pain. It was the pain of Justin's nads being crunched with the force of a sledgehammer. Letting out a high pitched scream of pain that, possibly to Grell, could have sounded like a moan, or a groaning whine, he felt his body shudder from all of the discomfort he was currently feeling. His knees instantly giving out beneath him, the boy stumbled a few paces, his hands clapped over his holy given and blessed virgin (and for sure celibate) jewels. Eye twitching, he felt his blood boiling. He watched that Shinigami, that blasted and soon to be slaughtered being, jump away like he was a pro ballerina. Hearing the moaned name of his, and hearing the man's mode, he snapped inside of his head.
Slowly standing up, he ignored his blazing balls. His one arm, already having a blade sticking out of it, was ready. Raising his other hand to his face, he dramatically passed it over his eyes, above his head and dramatically brought it down to his side. There was a blur of light as another blade manifested. This time, on the other arm. Duel bladed, and ready, the Priest suddenly surged forward.
The fiery haired Shinigami's equally flaming personality seemed to light up, cinders dancing within his eyes as his enthralled expression almost seemed to twitch happily. Lunging off of the rooftop and swinging his chainsaw forward at his attacker, he let out a splee of happiness. Taking the moment his attacker would deflect to cram his lips into the others, sharp teeth smashing into Justin's. "Hnnnn… Justin, my love! Embrace me!" He had swooned muffled into those once again startled lips before biting into them.
Why was there a flaming, red-haired shark biting his lips? Eyes wide, and full of a sense of a recoiling terror, he tried to pull away. The more he tried to pull away, however, he found that he was ensnared in a trap. The more he pulled, the more the Shinigami bit down harder. What had just happened? Then it hit him, what to do. If he could have smirked, he would. Taking the moment, while the Shinigami was too busy making love, piranha style, Justin too his moments to wiggle his arms in between the Shinigami and himself. With a jerking motion he stuck his blades into the man's sides, trying to sink them in as deep as they could go.
With a shriek of pain, the reaper's teeth unhooked themselves from Justin's abused and now bloodied lips. Wailing slightly and recoiling, his chainsaw was hurled at the priest; the Shinigami's eyes glistening with a split second snap of pure rage and fear, his eyes, for that moment seeming devoid of all color...just a pale inhuman white. The gender confused man's wavelength pulsed and momentarily skyrocketed, flaring about like an inferno of red hues.
Seeing the influx of rage and anger broiling about the man like waves of fiery snakes, he knew that he had shaken the Shinigami. Finally. However, seeing the whirling, rotating right for his face. Yelping, he went to move out of the way. However, he wasn't so lucky. The blades tore into his mantle, ripping apart the material and making a long and raw gouge into his shoulder. Crying out in pain, the boy blindly threw out his arm, hoping to at least smash it on the side of the man's face.
The clergyman's blade hit its mark, crushing into Grell's soft supple face and slicing into his jaw slightly. Reeling back in even more pain, the Shinigami let out a gurgling howl of hissing anger. Stepping back as his form curled slightly, he pressed a gloved hand tentatively to his bleeding face, a pouting snarl clear on his features. "How...dare you treat a lady in such a manner!" his shriek was like that of a banshee, his wounds slowly sealing back up as he sped forward, leaping into the air as he heaved his bladed scythe down, barely missing the now shocked priest.
Not hesitating in his movement, the Shinigami lunged, bobbing and weaving dramatically as his piranha like smile only grew wider, rage steadily being replaced by amusement and the usual lusty demeanor, his voice flirty yet dripping with a dark and twisted nature. "Justin my love! Why so twitchy? Come now; let us dance in this final act upon the stage! I shall be your red curtain, drawn across your parting act to end this theatre of life!"
"A-A LADY? H-HOW ARE YOU A LADY, WHEN YOU ARE CLEARLY A MAN?" God. The Priest's mind ached tremendously. He was trying to keep an eye on the seemingly teleporting Shinigami. There one moment, gone the next. He was a constant red blue. Hearing the man's mocks and calls, he felt anger slowly creep into his blood. He glared waspishly at the air around him. He was getting irked. Slowly raising his left hand out in front of him, he pointed his palm out. He rested his other hand on his throw out arm, as he slid back a leg to brace himself. Waiting, and watching. The Shinigami had one flaw in this act. His bright red color made him stand out.
A shifting of a pebble on the street. That was enough of an audible clue.
Whirling around, his clothes brushed back with the self created wind, he threw out his hand once again. With a screaming voice, just as the red blur passed in front of him and paused for that millisecond, he made his attack known.
"LAW ABIDING SILVER GUN!"