Just be glad I didn't kill any humans (open)

Miley lays slightly curled up into a ball under her covers on her bed just having been asleep for one of her usual naps but this one she woke up unlike the others. This one she didn't wake up as Hu, nor Hal. Miley slowly opens her eyes as her black devils tail pushes off the covers. Her eyes were black, her hair a darkish red, her skin nearly white, and she had small black horns on her head.

Miley had woken up as the Demon side of her more commonly known as De. She slowly climbs out of bed standing up on two legs like bow had taught her but her back was slightly hunched, she still not used to being in this position yet. She looks to her left to see herself in the large mirror that once belonged to Raven. She closed her eyes genitally as her horns retracted and as she reopened her eyes they now would be green and looked human.

Her stomach then growled and she looked down to it placing a hand on her stomach. She sorta was in the mood to kill something anyways so she figured why not kill something for breakfast. Miley then traveled to a near by forest figuring it'd be best to kill something there and not in the city for shed surely be attacked if she killed and ate something there. Miley looked around until she saw a deer and began to run after it on two legs for a moment but then swapped to all fours being able to travel faster that way.

Miley in haled and spit black fire from her mouth burning the dear making it trip and fall. She then pounced on the deer and ate it alive getting more than a little blood all over her. She then slowly stood back up on two feet and walked back to the city. As she walked down the side walk with nothing on her feet but dirt and some blood and blood covering her she as she looked at the people staring at her frightened by the blood she thought to herself. What if her 'team mates' see her in this form and claim shes evil and attack her?

They wouldn't be wrong but she still didn't want that happening. She casually walked by some little girl looking about pre-teenish and pulled the purple winter hat right off her head ignoring her shouting and pushed her to the ground when she ran at her. She then put that hat on her face holding a straight face. The hat should hide her hair for the most part so they wouldn't notice it was red. She then tucked her tail under her shirt as she walked. Done and done the most easiest things to take care of done.

Suddenly a man ran past a woman snatching her purse and was running right towards Miley. A perfect situation to where she can be violent and not get in trouble for it as long as she wasn't 'too violent'. The man saw her and the blood all over her and started to turn around and run from her and she quickly ran at him and leaped at him flipping mid leap reaching out grabbing his arms as she put her feet on his back. She then suddenly stretched out her legs as she yanked on his arms.

The result was her dislocating his shoulders and causing him to trip smashing and cutting up his face as he slid to a stop dropping the purse. The fall nearly made him pass out and it wasn't really needed but she didn't feel it was fun enough for her. Miley then to get more fun quickly squatted as she took the mans arms at the same time breaking them at the elbows over her legs which this pain caused him to be knocked out. "Whimp..." She said in a cold tone.

De's English skills were better than Hu and Hal's since instead of not being focused all the time never having things to do she had souly focused on decoding the cryptic speech and learned to speak it for the most part. She stood back up as she let go of the man's hands letting the broken arms fall to the ground and she stepped off him and continued to walk down the sidewalk ignoring the panicking people.

Marleigh was browsing some literature in an old bookstore when she heard a commotion outside. As she stepped out of the shop, she was just in time to see what looked like a purse snatcher get apprehended... in a not very pleasant manner. After unnecessarily breaking his arms, the "hero" simply got up a left without a care. In Marleigh's eyes, there was something not right about that picture. Was this the kind of thing that passed for "heroism" these days?

Not wanting to get into needless conflict, she approached the knocked out criminal only after the violent hero was a good twenty paces away. Basic first aid wasn't going to do him much good. If he wasn't taken to a hospital immediately, he may as well say goodbye to ever using his arms again. It was truly a harsh treatment for such a petty crime. Luckily for her, she wasn't alone in thinking so. Another bystander approached Marleigh and told her that he had already called for an ambulance.

Marleigh picked up the stolen purse and returned it to the owner who had just stood there, shocked and confused at what she should do. Marleigh led her to a nearby bench to sit and calm her down.

It may be said that Jump City had a bit of a demon infestation. Motel bathrooms were crawling with Aka-Name, and their beds concealing succubi. For ghosts there were the Ghost Busters (though admittedly they'd been out of business for years). Concerning demons, the Vatican was your only practical option, and they didn't exactly do call-outs. Though if one were to closely analysis the influx of fiendish immigrants, they would notice a marked increase coinciding with the arrival of one particular inhabitant. The Interdimensional Coyote. The Drug Mule of Damnation himself. Vernon 'Scapegoat' Antis.

If ever there existed a more textbook morality tale about dealing with forces beyond our understanding. The refashioned ghoul, even under a magical veil disguising his reduced countenance, was a sordid sight to behold. Filthy, smelly, gaunt, emaciated, and frail. Knock out a few teeth and swap in some old rags then he'd look the very picture of a hobo. With one exception. Scapegoat radiated contentment. Despite a life of constant suffering, in part due to his frequent proximity to dark matters, he seemed to take pleasure in everything he saw.

That amiable expression now met De as she made to leave. The ghoul alone was swimming counter to the tide of people, who otherwise unanimously parted from her path. He clapped apparently without irony as the half-demon strode by, alone in celebrating her heroic achievement, "Bravo! Encore! Three cheers for justice!" Change forms she might, but Scapegoat knew who this audacious heroine was. He had friends on the other side. His final remarks were imparted using a demonic language, "You left him alive. Whimp." Of course his linguistic skills were always a bit shaky. Scapegoat couldn't be sure he hadn't just asked her what time the Swiss roll arrived. "Who said that?!"

De was ignoring everyone and thing up until Scapegoat came up to her. Her eye twitched in annoyance, she didn't do this for justice or to be a hero. She just did it so she could brutally injure someone and not get in as much trouble if she got in any since he was stealing. He then called her a whimp which majorly annoyed her. Her eyes went completely black and her tone completely demonic. She could tell he wasn't all to good at using the most simplest of of demonic languages so she used English so he'd fully understand.

She got up in his face staring him down as she spoke. "I do not do this for justice, I do not do it to punish petty thieves, I do because I like and want to injure others and he was an easy target that I would take less punish for my actions by taking down!" She she said the word down she shot black flames from her mouth at him aiming to roast him alive but if he dodged or stopped it she wouldn't care all too much honestly she just wanted to get her point across not caring if the humans around them heard or not.

That. That was precisely the kind of trouble Marleigh had been hoping to avoid. But apparently someone thought it was a bright idea to upset a character who clearly had violent tendencies. She hastily ushered the nearest bystanders to get away as fast as they could, not that she needed to tell them. But then there was still that unconscious injured man lying on the ground. The situation had not changed. It still was not safe to carelessly move him. But it was either that or risk him getting caught in the fire.

As quickly but carefully as she could, she tried to carry him and move him further away from the fire-spewing demons. He was heavy. She wasn't empowered for situations like this. It was also times like these that she wished her satchel could store living things. But now was not the time for wishful thinking. It took a couple of minutes but she finally got him to an alley on the side of a nearby building. Hopefully that would suffice as cover.

She peered from the corner to keep watch at what was happening and keep an eye out for other innocents that might get dragged into the mess. There was no way she was stepping in the crossfire, not unless she had no choice. But she would do what she could to protect the people around.

Chills ran down Scapegoat's spine as De confronted him. Half a demon she may be, but in her current state she was as close to their perfection as 'humanly' possible. Wanton malevolence was a staple of their ilk. It was such a shame her potential was diluted. Miss-matched blood is what it was. Some of the infernal believed that halflings were the future, that they had promising, even unrivalled power. In this the ghoul found himself in reluctant disagreement with his masters. Why flaw the flawless? Why fix what was not broken? How many more rhetorical questions would it take for them to end this fruitless experimentation?

Baiting the girl was gutsy. If half-demons were scum, then ghouls were even lower in the hierarchy, if you could even put them on it at all. A contemptible race that usually had no business raising a single syllable to their superiors. Thankfully Scapegoat was a more resourceful minion than most. Watch now. As De exhaled a stream of fire into his face, the ghoul would expertly combust into an inferno and perish unconditionally.

...no wait.

The charred corpse reeled backwards before toppling into the roadway emitting a horrified scream. Then - silence. A passing sedan would brake harshly before the obstruction and reverse direction, fearing a similar fate. In the distance, the first wail of sirens denoting an ambulance's proximity could be heard. But it would be too late. Vernon Antis had-

"Glad I'm not in that guy's shoes." Scapegoat peek around the same corner as Marleigh, a little underneath her gaze, "Speaking of which. I'm in that guy's shoes. Swapped loafers with him. Hey, thanks for the lift. I'm Scapegoat." Vernon had exchanged places with the injured thief Marleigh had carried to safety. He was a mite more slippery than your average corpse chomper.

She stopped the fire she spat as he fell to the ground dead and stared at his corpse and was glad he was dead. He seemed like the total ***hole kind of person to her, the world was better off with out him she figured. It wasn't why she killed him she really just did it cause he slightly annoyed her she would deny that but hey it was a bonus in her book that she did it to a total jerk... even if he was only being a jerk because he clearly knew who he was. She then thought of the possibility of him just turning out to be a racist jerk which means she defiantly possibly killed the right guy. She began to walk off again felling pretty good now, she really loved killing, and hurting things.

The violent girl burned someone to death. She really did. At first Marleigh did not concern herself with the foolish man's well-being. She was certain that if he had the guts to incite the violent girl's fury like that, it meant he was no average person and that he had a way of dealing with it. But no, it was not the case. The figure just stood there and got charred beyond recognition. But before Marleigh could step out to confront the girl, as she had finally had enough of just watching, she was surprised that there was someone else there right next to her.

She quickly stepped back a few paces, trying to make sense of the situation. It did not take long for her to notice that the unconscious injured man who was supposed to be lying there near her was no where in sight. Instead there was this new fellow whom she had never seen before, casually introducing himself. There was no way the thief could have gotten up and walked away without her noticing it. The new face appeared so suddenly and without warning as well.

"Scapegoat..? Where is the man who was here just now?"

She still could not understand what actually happened. She was not even sure if this Scapegoat would give a straight answer. She marked him suspicious as soon as she got a better look at him. But there was no one else around who could have done something. Meanwhile, from the corner of her eye, she could see that the fire girl was once more just walking away without a care.

Brushing himself down in a futile effort to look presentable, the ghoul studied his new acquaintance. She appeared to be the studious type, small and lithe. It seemed incongruous that she had been the one to act with due diligence, fireman lifting an injured party to relative safety, when there were so many more able-bodied persons around. Then again, people so rarely put themselves out on a limb for others. Not that Vernon could throw the first stone. Ever since his rebirth he had been less than altruistic. I mean, he would have helped, but he had this doctor's note which said he shouldn't do any heavy lifting. Also - screw that guy.

“He just popped out for a smoke.” Vernon answered, immediately making a sour face at his own words, “Too soon, Scapegoat, too soon.” There were still people in England touchy with jokes about Princess Diana. His quip here was definitely out of tact. Give it ten minutes for the guy to start decomposing. At least! "To answer your query, he's over there." Scapegoat stood on his tippy-toes as if to point over the car blocking their view of the flambéd victim, "I needed to get out of there fast. Used him as a stunt-double. Could have used a pigeon, I guess, but no one was carrying a pigeon to safety. Needless to say, I have the metahuman power to enable instantaneous transmission between one living individual and myself. Obviously."

A second passed before Vernon eyes went blank with thought. A derpy expression crossed his features, "Wait. Did the half-demon leave already?"

((OOC: since no one followed her just say that was my exit post though if someone chatches up to her i'll pop back in))

Half-demon? Two things were running through Marleigh's mind. One, neither this Scapegoat nor that half-demon were good news for the city. Two, the demon girl was the bigger threat. As much as she wanted to avoid confrontation, Marleigh could not just let her walk away. She had just burned a man to death without even confirming it was the right target. He was not the most innocent of people but he was a defenseless life nonetheless. Marleigh had seen someone kill a villain before. She let him off easy as he had ultimately saved more lives by doing so. This case was different. Much different.

"That was terrible of you. Do you people truly regard lives with so little care? I would have thought the inhabitants of the mortal realm valued the fragility of life a little more than others. But then again you don't quite belong on this plane do you? And neither does she."

Marleigh left without listening to any retort Scapegoat would say. She had a feeling nothing good would come of it anyway. She rushed after the demon girl whom she felt she needed to stop however way she could. Was Marleigh confident she could restrain her? Certainly not. But she would be a poor excuse for a hero if she did not at least try. It was not as though she intended to initiate a fight anyway. Her aim was to talk her into taking responsibility for her actions, preferably by turning herself in.

"Ms. Demon, I need to have a word with you." She said, finally catching up and matching her pace. It was not too difficult. She was merely walking casually.

Miley just kept walked even hearing someone running after her, if they attacked her it would be their life at stake anyways. It was some girl who was apparently running up to her and oddly was trying to me nice by calling her ms. demon. This slightly aggravated her, Ms. Demon? How would she feel if she called her Ms. Human? But she probably knew no better she she'd let it slide just this once. Miley looked to her with out a word though gave a look telling her to talk if she wanted to and looked back forward as she continued to walk calmly.

This was bad. If he didn't find that malevolent mangy mongrel, then he couldn't report back to the Feecon Monarchs. That's right, no more running about at the behest of any Tom, Dick, and Harry. This time Scapegoat was a Royal Vassal. He wasn't certain what entitlements this association granted him, but he felt it was the right to roll his 'r's as he spoke. Usually when you did that people asked if you were suffering a stroke. However, with a link to the regal household, those same folk would now have no choice but to accept his chosen speaking quirk. AND his puffy-pants.

Note to self: Get puffy-pants.

The ghoul held his hand in the lookout position as he scanned the horizons. Behind him the girl continued to prattle on, Once upon a time moral rebukes were like Kryptonite to him, now he fancied himself immune. Scapegoat twisted on his heel to face the voice, "That's right. I don't belong-" The girl had moved, he swivelled another 180 degrees, "That's right-" Not there either, he tried again "That is- Have you gone?" Huh. This was Jar Jar Binks levels of wude.

It was true that his attitude towards life had become careless. For Vernon its sanctity was tarnished and perverted beyond recognition during his ten years of torture. Even more so now that he was a ghoul. Dead people meant more food. You tended to become disillusioned with the importance of funerary rights when a cracked coffin provided welcome relief from hunger. Furthermore, ghouls only experienced death now as an occupational hazard. A solid blow would kill him, but a second would bring him back to life. Even if his body was tore beyond recognition, his overlords were still going to send his spirit back up here in a new vessel.

What meaning had death to a ghoul? Just life's inevitable punchline.

"I am not sure what the custom is where you are from. But in this city... in this realm, senseless killing is nothing short of deplorable. That is to say, you have just committed quite a grave sin."

Marleigh was not even sure if her kind had a concept of right and wrong. How much of her words was getting through to her? She did not know. But for as long as they continued to talk, Marleigh hoped she could at least divert her attention from targeting any more defenseless lives.

"I would like to request that you cease such acts from here on. Not just for the sake of the people, but for you as well. What little entertainment you may think you get out of it... ultimately isn't worth it. Take this as a stern but concerned advice from someone who has seen this sort of thing countless times."

"I must admit, it is quite challenging to put things in a perspective that you will understand. I imagine killing on impulse might be deeply rooted in your psyche. I could very well be trying to appeal to a natural instinct: something that is neither reasonable nor feasible. Telling someone stop doing something they find fun is probably one of the most absurd ideas ever. And yet I still feel the need to express this thought. Surely you value your own life. How big a step is it to value the lives of others as well?"

At this point, Marleigh was no longer concerned about that one life lost. It could not be helped. What was done was done. But if she could prevent others from meeting the same unfortunate fate, why not? Somewhere along the way, her intentions changed from reprimanding to outright concern.

"I will not pretend that I can understand you. I know next to nothing about you. Likewise, you know nothing about me. It must be weird having a total stranger preach to you about something like this. But you do not need to understand one another to open your mind to a new perspective. And I can guarantee, this is a lesson worth learning and taking to heart."

Once Marleigh finished talking Miley was beyond annoyed unless she dodged or stopped her Miley would whip around to her and grab her where her throat and chin met stopping her walking. Miley would pull her down to eye level Marleigh being a few inches taller than her. Her eyes were completely black as she glared into Marleigh, her voice also was demonic. She held a tight grip on her not hard enough to choke but hard enough to warn her not to break away until she finished talking.

"You do not know of how I feel, you do not know what I have been though, you don't know how I think, you don't even know who I am. You are lucky I have not killed you yet for calling me Ms. Demon. You think death is bad!? Well then you haven't witnessed true pain! Torture! Dieing is nothing compared to the things I've seen and felt! Do not preach to me about sins, don't tell me to open my mind to something you believe in. Telling me not to kill someone fills me with anger and annoyance! I may not need to know you to listen to what you have to say but you should really learn who your talking to before you start preaching." Miley let go of her and began to walk off again as her eyes changed back to normal alone with her voice.