(Argus's corpse is inside of the main portion of the territory surrounded by trees. No one will have seen Vagabond do the deed, but there are faint traces of Roseblood scent and Tanglewood (Vagabond having just gotten done visiting that group before coming here). Note, that her corpse had the flesh removed from her entire face including her eyes, revealing her bloody skull underneath. This is Vagabond's calling card. There's also a dead guard at the entrance of the gate with a throwing knife in his neck.)

Actions had consequences. They always did, and the gang he had been used to probably knew that all too well. They knew that as soon as they did something, something else would happen that would put them in danger. He guessed that was one of the ways it was at least kept exciting and interesting. Although, he did prefer to know what was going to happen occasionally. He didn't like going in without a plan if he could help it, but if he was wired enough, he would be more than willing to go in head first and see what happened later. The skill he had when he was a human usually kept him alive long enough during battles like that, and he had around seven other guys that were willing to back him up as well. He also knew that in the beginning that they didn't completely trust him either. After all, he did end up shooting one of their own so that he could have the money by himself, but hey, he didn't kill the guy at least. That had to mean something right? They held a grudge against him for a little bit, and that was fine with him. He just cared about getting money and nothing else, while occasionally tracking down those that he was once connected too and cutting loose ends in case they were going to become a problem later. It was a typical business for the gang usually, and they always their slipups. Some more than others. There were a couple times where everything went off without a hitch, and when everything was said and done and they met up again, it was almost as if it was wrong that nothing went wrong. He had once been the upholder of the law, one that believed that criminals should be arrested and put away. That was until his higher-ups transferred him to an organization that dealt with underground work that the government didn't want to touch. He became almost like that of a hitman, and he was partnered with someone else to make sure that the plan went through smoothly.

He had his doubts a little bit about the organizations, but being younger he didn't dare speak up against their orders as he was just a soldier and nothing else. He did what he was told, and it was because of that that he climbed up the ranks fairly quickly at his age. Eventually, the nagging in his head was far too much for him to ignore, and he couldn't take it anymore and had to dig deeper until he found a pattern on the facilities that they were hitting. They were all similar and belonged to what seemed to be like a monopoly. There was competition between the organization and the people that they were killing, and it was for their own personal benefit. All the horrible things the enemy had been said that they had done probably was completely false. They had lied to him, and he had been working with them for six years before he finally pulled the plug. He couldn't tell his partner because he knew that if he did, there was a chance that the organization would find out sooner than he would have liked. He remembered the day the building blew up in flames and when he put on the mask. Was he a changed man? Not really. He had been trained to be a killer with the organization, before joining a gang and becoming a criminal in the end, while taking out those that were corrupted at the same time. He wasn't a good guy, and one could say that there were no redeeming qualities about him at all. He didn't know how he had gotten into this world exactly. He believed that this was some strange simulation that he was in just to fuck with him and mess with his minds. If they thought that he was easily going to break. Getting to this place hadn't exactly been easier compared to like that of the others, but hey it might be worth the effort. He had one kill under his belt already, and he was looking for another. He needed to get his name out there, as it would be better for business. He could run from his enemies if he really needed to in a world like this. The issue with Vagabond was he didn't know what kind of creatures there were in this world, and just thought there were a couple strange things here and there.

The killer had seen plenty of strange things his entire life, so few things came to a shock, but half the time he wasn't prepared for what he saw in this world. It was late at night when he had made it onto the island. He obviously bypassed the gate, noticing that there was a guard that was sleeping on the job. Typical. He should have taken the guard out, but thought against it. Maybe he would just take him out when he left. That would make a little bit more sense to him. The 6ft tall black Hellhound made his way through the jungle until he heard something slightly off in the distance. Even if it sounded close, it was probably far away because of the fact that he had enhanced senses on without even realizing it. The large black beast hid in the shadows like he had done when he was a human on a mission or looking for the target of said mission. A canine eventually came into view, and the Roseblood member halted where he was standing. The other seemed to be slumped over slightly. He remained silent as best as he could before one of the throwing knives against his sash started to move without him touching it. Throwing knives. Throwing knives that could be thrown at incredible speeds and with deadly accuracy. He sent the throwing knife toward and watched as it impaled the winged canine's shoulder, causing the other to vocalize slightly in pain but not scream. As soon as he threw the knife, the masked killer sped out from underneath the undergrowth and slammed his larger body into the female's own, knocking her onto the ground. It stunned her for a minute, but as he was on top of her, he watched as the wolf sank her teeth into his arm, causing his body to flinch slightly in pain. He raised one of his paws and slashed across the side of the female's face, but it didn't seem like she was letting go. A snarl would release from the Hellhound's jaws behind the mask as he could feel her chomping down into his flesh getting closer and closer to the bone.

More knives came off of the sash that he had, and he made them plummet down into the female's eyes. It didn't kill her as the weapons weren't going that fast, but it was enough to get her to loosen her grip so that he could move her body around as he sent another knife using his air elementals to sink a blade deep within her throat. A couple seconds, she was still holding onto his right arm, before she struggled to stay alive. Her wings fluttered around as if she was a bird that had just been decapitated before everything went still. Vagabond cursed under his breath as he pried her jaws off of him, and shook his arm. That was going to hurt like a bitch tomorrow. He raised his mask slightly over his muzzle so that he could grab the knives that had taken the canine's life. Four in total. He wiped them off on his own black fur so that the blood wouldn't deteriorate the metal if left for long enough. However, he left one out and began to get to work on the females corpse, grasping the knife in his mouth. He sank the blade all the way through the flesh until he reached the skull. He began to sheer muscle, flesh, and tendons from the female's skull.

He, of course, couldn't get every bit of flesh and muscle off of the skull, but it was close enough to make it seemed like the flesh was peeled away up to where her neck would start. When he got to the eyes, he carved them out, not expertly as he was going to have to get back so that he could heal his wounds properly. Vagabond took out her eyes and threw them off into the distance so it wouldn't get in the way of his skinning process. Finally, all the flesh, including the tongue, was removed from the female's face, leaving a bloody skull. Cleaning the blade on the grass, Vagabond shook his body and put his mask over his muzzle. Looked good enough. The Hellhound began to move back toward where he came from, sprinting through the forest. And when he got near the sleeping guard, a smirk came from inside of his skull mask as he used his air elementals to launch a throwing knife into the guard's throat. He listened as the other gurgled while he ran through the gate across the train tracks. Leaving the slight scent of Rosebloods, and Tanglewood behind, as he had just come from the Tanglewood from his previous kill. He did leave a slight blood trail, but the blood trail wouldn't last that long to track him all the way as blood would eventually clot his wound. This world seemed like it was going to be a lot of fun.

L U C I F E R . G R I M M

"The endless Void, The gazing abyss, The bottomless ocean of horror...It coiled itself around your tender heart"

the only thing to stop the tide of despair at what greets his eyes, is his knowledge that Argus is not truly dead - not gone at least, merely this body is.

it does nothing to stop the rage

the ground frosts under his claws and the air grows colder - theres a subtle taste of burning ozone and small, very small red sparks dance across the marred face.

you fail them again, you never were strong enough to protect those you cared about were you?

he is still as he observes the body but something is obviously wrong - for one the usually mild mannered dragon has been still and silent before but never so much that the world seemed to hush around him, as though aware of a greater danger than the mortal mind knows to heed past their prey brain's screaming they long since muffled, or the way the shadows seem to lengthen and lean in - a glimpse of teeth in the deeper darknesses and a far off thrum of a beast chained growling.

h-eh-eh-ehehe, always the martyr - and all for nothing, they still die no matter how many times you put yourself in their place, ah - the irony ehe-hehehe

his claws grasp at te frosted earth beneath his feet momentarily as he gazes seemingly into the middle distance - he scents tanglewood but he scents the fainter underneath and long experience with such murderers - and when he had been one  he knows where he places blame.

"Roseblood" is a growl - but its not the deep voice of Lucifer everyone knows, it's - distorted - like a voice coming through a heavy filter riddled with a glitch that sounds painful, a staccato beat of pure wrong.

both his eyes are red.

well my boy? done with playing house are we?

he shifts to his feet - is the red scar larger? - and goes to move away - red cracks on his form, like the fracturing of fine china - wings beginning to unfurl - edged in white but it's tinted red red red, bleeding stars and screams, it's so dark, the emptiness, the cold, he has survived this, now he is this, stars live and die, eternal is the lie, you are the son of end, accursed, pariah - "he will doom us all", they say, they spit and hiss, they never watch his family like they watch him - the cities run RED RED RED, they choke on it, they have hurt his own, the sun dies above him, dark descends and eternity screams helpless at his feet as claws that burn wrong-crimson twist inside his ribcage, choke him on his chains -

wings carry him away.

a wide grin of madness red and black in his mind.

that's my boy