Wheelchair Racing for Dummies [Matt]

[Claw]

Claw growled softly from her place in the large, white room. Splatters of cold water smacked against the windows, causing the frame to shake. Even though it was raining, she didn’t need to look outside to know today was going to suck. Staring up at the bright lights of the hospital room, she had to cover both her eyes so she didn’t go blind right then and there. After she pulled on her sunglasses and doctors mask did she finally stop to think. How in the seven hells did I end up in a hospital bed?
A sharp pain in her left arm made her remember. Looking down at her wrist, she recognized a hard blue cast wrapped from her fingers to her elbow.
“Oh right…Those god d*mn Kira supporters jumped me after class…and broke my arm…” Claw let out another growl and adjusted her bed of what felt like rocks. “All I say is ‘Kira isn’t god’ and they go at me like spiders on a helpless fly.”
She smirked slightly. If only security hadn’t swiped my gun at the start of term, I wouldn’t have to deal with that sort of cr*p. Even now, Kira causes me nothing but problems.
Looking around the room again, Claw noticed a note on the bed-side table. It was from Riyu, her foster parent.

Dear Claudia,
Sorry to get word that your arm is injured. I’m at work right now and won’t be able to pick you up for a while, so I asked one of the nurses to give you this message. Please try to behave until I pick you up! And don’t do anything dangerous!
Riyu Ami

Taking another long stare at her foster-moms plea for good behavior, Claw felt a nasty grin spread across her face. She also took the time to spot a folded wheelchair in the corner of the room, gathering dust.
“Nothing dangerous, huh?” She chuckled menacingly as she stood up from her bed and started unfolding the wheelchair. “If that’s what she expects of me, then I shouldn’t let her down!”

[Matt]

Bored, bored, bored. That was all that repeated in Matt's mind as he just sat there in the waiting room with no hope of relief. His face may have been in the two screens on his DS, but his mind was elsewhere. Jeez, how long was that exam going to take? It didn't surprise him that he was sitting here at least once, waiting for his best friend to get himself a clean bill of health. All in all, Mello was prone to pissing off the wrong person. And now here they were, waiting on the doctors to finish figuring out which bone was broken where, which was weird because Matt had a feeling that they both knew the moment they heard it snap. And what's worse, everyone there had the nerve to kick him out! Oh well, that's the way the ball bounces. Now all there was to do was sit and wait.

A loud "Objection!" rang out from the system's tiny speaker, earning the gamer a few dirty looks. Matt groaned even louder. Don't get me wrong, dirty looks never bothered him. It's just that his nerves were so frayed, he was looking for any excuse to make even the smallest action. Then he knew, something had to be done. With another sigh, he forced himself to stand up and out of the incredibly stiff chair and flick the power switch on his beloved game. This was getting ridiculous. "God, I need a smoke,"

A bone creaked beneath his weight, a result of all that sitting around. Obviously, shifting positions every three minutes had done nothing to cure the stiffness. Matt slipped the DS into his jean's pocket and flexed a muscle in his arm to get it out of his system. All his otherwise blank mind focused on right now was the welcome smell of his cigarette that would soon be wafting into his mouth and nostrils. With that as encouragement, he set out to find the exit for now.

And then he got lost. A freaking boy genius just somehow managed to find a way to get lost in a hospital. That had to be some kind of record. Hey, at least it was something new. Now he had the amusement to peer into patients' rooms to keep himself from going mad. Perhaps being nosy would kill a bit of the agitation at his brilliant position. And maybe he'd run into a cute nurse while he was at it. Matt smirked a bit to himself and felt better all ready. However, fate can throw random distractions at you at any given time, sometimes in the form of, let's say, a racing wheelchair...

[Claw]

“Hey! Coming through!!” Claw shouted as she flew down the packed hallways. Doctors and patients jumped away as she speed past on the wheelchair. One of the patients cursed at her colorfully.
It’s not my fault that guy had a broken leg…He should move faster… Her smile widened as she sped past the receptionists at blinding speed, sending one of them toppling to the floor.
“Get back here right now!”
"Stop! You're going to hurt yourself!"
A couple doctors shouted from behind her. Claw turned around to flip them off, then kicked at the floor even harder.
“If they think I’m gonna listen, they‘re even sicker than they're patients…” She scoffed. Stupid doctors, dangerously fast wheelchairs… Japan’s medical care sucks…
Returning her gaze back to the halls, Claw rounded another sharp corner. Besides, I won't hit anyone. I've got great vision.
Just then, Claw found herself in an brightly lit hallway. Letting out a soft screech, she shut her eyes extremely tight and made another turn. As she re-opened her eyes, she realized she was about to hit something, but her eye-sight was to blurry to tell what it was. She tried to suerve away, but the wheels wouldn't shift.
Shit! I jynxed it! Claw cursed as she slammed her heel to the floor, but the chair wouldn’t stop. It kept sliding at full speed. She reached to hit the break, but the cast wouldn’t close on the lever.
God dammit, tell me they can speak English… I don’t know how to say 'move it' in Japanese…
“MOVE IT, DUMBASS!! OR DO YOU WANT TO BE FLATTENED?!” Claw screamed as loud as she could. She slammed her foot harder on the floor as the wheelchair sped toward the person without any signs of stopping.

[Matt]

(OOC: So, guess who got bitten by the procrastination-bug. XP Sorry about that.)

Well, there was an interesting change of tempo. The calm, muddled murmurs in a foreign tongue that buzzed around him where now overwhelmed by someone screaming desperately in his native language. Surely, that'd be more than enough to attract anyone's interest. The moment the shout reached Matt's less than attentive ears, he twisted his head about as fast as he could, only to be meant by the sight of a wheelchair speeding at him God-knows how fast. He was barely even capable of uttering "What the f-" before common sense kicked in.

The human body is a wonderful thing, but sometimes it just doesn't do enough. His legs attempted to spring him to safety and every nerve in his body was screaming out signals to get away. However, in this little game of Chicken, Matt found himself to be the looser. Rather than take on a full blow, his body had for the most part found its way out of the line of fire. His right ankle and leg though, weren't nearly as fortunate. They almost instantly were struck by the wheels and were probably about to serve as speed bump while the rest of Matt slammed right into the floor, face first of course. An extremely loud profanity slipped out in mid impact.

Lucky for both of them, Matt's DS stayed put in his deep pockets. Anything otherwise and there really would've been a mess to clean up. Once the daze of head meeting floor began to dull its raging effect, that was the first thing a gloved hand reached down to check for. Somethings are just more important than checking for blood. There was nothing he could do but lay there in a stupor for a bit to regain his wits and observe the damages. There wasn't the warm feel of bodily fluids anywhere. The worst of it all only seemed to be that one half of the goggles on his face was somehow pushed up further than it used to be and one of the rims was now on top of his eyelid.

Still dizzy, disoriented, and just plain pissed off, Matt pulled himself to sit upright as fast as he could without being forced to plop back down. "What kind of psychotic, son of a bitch are you?!" he shouted instinctively. He found himself more interested in fixing his goggles than looking at the condition of his attacker. The random assumption that whoever it was spoke English was automatic since the cursing spilled out in said language.

(OOC: Wow, that wasn't even any good. Double sorry. XP)

[Claw]

(OOC: Don't worry! I was out for a bit too... That bug must be contagious...)

This was an interesting development. As soon as she had screamed out to the person, whoever it was had turned around. So he spoke English like her, hunh.
So I’m not the only American here?
At least, that would have been what Claw would have thought if it weren’t for the fact she was STILL about to crash into the guy. As if on cue, the person began to scramble out of the way. To bad Claw was moving about the three times his speed. She felt the wheelchair bump over something as she sped past him.
Lets hope that wasn’t his neck…
Like a human speed bump, the chair began to slow after the impact, sending Claw flying off the seat and face-first onto the tiles below with a colorful shout from the brunette as she splattered to the floor.

Using her only intact arm to hoist herself off the cold flooring, Claw took a look at the wheelchair, which was now splayed out a few feet behind her. Next to it, the person she hit was gathering himself with a rather frustrated tone to his breathing.
Shit… He’s pissed off… Well, duh. I just hit him with a 30 mile-per-second chair…
Feeling something moist dripping down her face, Claw rubbed her sleeve against her left cheek, and a fresh cut put there from the collisions. The cause would have to be her sunglasses, which lay shattered from the landing. Lovely.

Wait a minute. What did this guy just call me?!
“Look who’s taking dumb-shit! Who wouldn’t know how to run out of the way?” Claw hissed, throwing the guy a dirty look that could probably make a lion run off. “It’s your fault for being stuck in slow-motion!” She pulled her sunglasses off the ground and pushed them back onto her face, then sat up in her place. Lets see if this guy can fight as poorly as he can dodge! Claw sneered under the doctors mask. "And it's 'daughter of a bitch' to you, slow-mo."

[Matt]

At last the goggles were shifted back into their original position over Matt's now piercing green eyes. Now he could actually focus on looking at the face of the idiot who ran him down. His glare held about just as much poison as the young woman's did, making it seem to the common onlooker as if they were two wolves ready to take a snap at each other's throats. Of course, that glare only stayed put until she started speaking and when he finally got a good look at her. The harsh line that was Matt's lips drooped into a surprised frown. He blinked dumbly for a second while she spat out her responses to him. Sure, it wasn't the first time a girl nearly killed him, but it was still enough to hold his tongue, if only for a moment.

Matt's womanizing nature only came into effect the first time he laid eyes on her. Now that that was over, his hormones became no stronger than his frustration and the throb in his ankle. Woman or not, no one gets to knock Mail Jeevas down without getting an ear or fist full. Well, except Mello of course. He's a different story though. He found it easier to ignore the urge to look her up and down, thanks to the doctor's mask that covered part of her face. The agitated young man shifted his jaw in frustration before he barked back a reply in an equally acidic manner.

"Daughter of a bitch? Well then, some lady you are!" he sneered. His eyes traced down her arm briefly to notice the cast on her wrist. "Shouldn't you be off somewhere licking your wounds rather than screwing around like a five year old?" Matt knew all too well that he wasn't walk to talk about manners or immaturity. Actually, he knew he was the furthest thing from it. Things like that didn't stop insults when they came to him though.It wasn't in his make-up to give a crap about being a hypocrite.

"And I'd like to see how you do when someone comes charging at you like a maniac!" Then came another powerful throb in his head. A gloved hand reached up to give his scalp a small rub and grumbled at himself, letting a bit of his accent show through as he did so. "Bloody hell.."

[Claw]

Claw let out a low growl as the boy turned to look at her. He had to be about her age, if not a bit older, and he was wearing the weirdest looking glasses she had ever seen outside of a pool-deck. And what was this stupid face he was giving her?
He looks like a deer in the headlights. Claw snickered under her breath.
But that only lasted for about a second before she noticed his ankle.
God damn. I didn't know a wheelchair could do that... Ah well. Should've been his neck.
Turning her attention back to the boy, who was now barking back at her with venom in his words, Claw simply leaned back against her right arm and pulled her mask tighter, throwing him a few annoyed glances every time he stopped to breathe.

"Heh. You moron. Do I look like an injured puppy to you?" She sneered behind her mask, pulling her left sleeve away so her full cast, which reached from her fingers up to her shoulder, would show. "Besides, causing problems for guys like you is all the fun I can have with this thing on. I'd rather cause some mayhem while I'm here rather than sit around and listen to some dumbass doctor...or you...specs..." She almost whispered that last comment as she pulled the sleeve back down.

"Well for starters I don't stand there in a daze when I see a wheelchair coming at me! I move out of the way! Like any person with a brain would!" Claw hissed at the redhead. A sudden sting of pain made her flinch from the slice on her cheek. "Dammit..." She let out a soft whimper as the blood dripped from the cut.

Wait a minute... That accent... Claw paused taking another look a the boy. "Are you from Britan?" She snickered, then mimicked in her best fake-accent, "A little far from home to be shoutin' orders, Mr. Specs..."
Claw stood up, brushing the dust from her hospital clothes, then stopped to wipe some more blood from her face.
Dammit, this is a bad slice... My mask will get all bloody if I don't watch it. The sooner I find a nurse the better.
Claw sighed, taking the still-fractured sunglasses off to reaveal her cerulean eyes. She blinked a couple timesas she tucked the broken glasses back into the pocket of her shirt.
This guy... He's more trouble than he's worth. Guesss I won't lose my vision in here, though...

[Matt]

"Do I look like an injured puppy to you?" That comment sent a surge of amusement through the listener. Did she even realize what kind of come back she was setting herself up for? A nasty smirk grew onto Matt's features as he debated how to phrase it. Actually, it seemed almost too easy to take advantage of, almost too unoriginal. Anyone who knew the literal term "bitch" could figure something out for that! So, he merely choked out a small chuckle to himself, but kept the thought within his head. Besides, if she had half of the brain this girl thought she did, she'd come to understand what he found so funny soon enough.

His lips pulled back into a sneer again however when she kept on ranting. To anyone who knew Matt in the least, her argument would show just how much to two managed to have in common when it came to their thought process and boredom. One could actually be surprised that it wasn't the boy on the wheelchair, running down innocent pedestrians himself. But, now this was war. Common ground was no about to be reflected upon in a time like this! He didn't care how reasonable her reasoning seemed, because she freaking ran him down!

When a whimper of pain stopped her, he mustered up another acidic sneer. "Heh. Not so tough, are you Smart Ass?" But her response to his voice sent him aback. Any progress he was about to go through with was completely thrown out the window as the girl mocked his accent, quite well actually.

"Well, look at you Yankee!" he barked back, a little self-conscious now of how he spat. There was little doubt in his mind that she was American, somehow. The way she swore like a trucker in plain English was enough to let him know. "You don't exactly blend in with the woodwork either. And watch who you're calling Specs, you hypocrite," To add another factor to his point, he made a violent hand gesture at her broken sunglasses. Jeez, Matt could understand the doctor's mask, (This is a hospital.) but the sunglasses were just beyond him. Tinted goggles were one thing, that was another. After all, where he came from, they were considered a fashion statement, not paranoia.

[Claw]

Injured pu....oh no... Claw's eyes widened at her not-so-well thought out comeback. Her face turned a shade of red only seen in fireworks. Claw blushed even darker as the boy's laugh got stuck in his throat.
"I didn't mean it like that!" She hissed, switching to the defensive. This guy was good at catching stupid stuff.
Must catch himself a lot...
"Hmm... So much for not getting into trouble before Riyu gets here." She sighed, looking away from the sneering red-head, "I should have just left when nobody was looking."

She threw the boy a sour look as she shoved her glasses out of sight. "Don't call me a Yankee, specs! And at least I wear these where they make some sense!" She snapped, storming over to the boy on the floor. She reached to pull the googles off of his face with a growl. "Headed to the pool today, or is the rain to much for ya?" She let a cruel smirk show through her mask as she latched onto his hair. Her eyes glinted dangerously, almost like a wolf. "C'mon, tomato top! Let me see how you look without these stupid glasses!"

(o/c: Ah, this is so short.... >.< Neeee...)

[Matt]

At first, Matt had more than enough reason to grin in what seemed to be triumph. Aha, so she wasn't that stupid. He relaxed his shoulders a bit in casual pride, the kind that he managed to become the poster boy for as he watched the tables turn ever so slightly. Her jump to the defensive, at least for that moment, made his eyes sparkle behind those infamous lenses. Unfortunately for him though, it seemed rather short lived.

And then the yelling and the snapping started up again. The smug look diminished a little, but refused to vanish completely, just because he had a feeling that it would piss Bitch-face (As he now mentally labeled her) off even more. But, everything went right up in smoke the moment she grabbed at him. His eyes flickered wide for a moment in surprise and slightly fearful curiosity and the grin was history. Anyone could tell that this wasn't going to be good.

Then, she grabbed his hair. The threat to rip off his precious goggles, the pulling of the deep red locks, the shouting, and that demonic smile all just begged for some kind of equally nasty reaction. Oh, but what to do. Matt at least knew what Mello would do; pistol-whip her senseless, but that was hardly his style and was way over the top. That, and he didn't feel like sitting in a jail cell today. Oh, and there was that tiny fact that he had left his gun in the car. Mail shook the criminal, over the top idea out of his head. It wasn't like he didn't know how to react after all. In fact, Bitch-face here was now baring a rather eerie resemblance to somewhat-insane Mello himself.

Matt pulled himself out of his little daze faster than he could've imagined possible and started playing it by ear. His brow furrowed in annoyance at its most extreme and he pulled the corner of his lips into a fiery sneer. He couldn't help but imagine that the situation at this point resembled two angry animals facing off for dominance or something. A gloved hand swatted at her hold on him with enough force to make Chuck Norris flinch. (Well, maybe not Chuck Norris, but you get the point.) He could only assume that her grasp was nothing compared to Mihael's death-grip, something he had found his way out of far more than once.

Then, a mischievous grin of his own spread across his face. "Whatever you say, Bitch-face," he growled slyly, content to voice the nickname for the first time. "But only if you take off that stupid doctor's-mask that's on your ugly mug. Or do you think that some fresh air really will kill you?" Matt shifted his weight coolly to show his lack of intimidation, as if she were just some other psychotic mind he dealt with every other day. "Come on. I'll show you mine if you show me yours,"

(OOC: They're just hitting it off great, aren't they? XD)

[Claw]

Claw's eyes flared again as the boy let out another smug look. How dare he laugh at her! After all, it was his gutter-bound mind that linked her rebutals. This tomato was asking for a new hole between his ribs. Or maybe his eyes. Lucky for him Claw had left the shotgun in her room and wasn't angry enough for that...yet. Her grip tigtened against the boys hair, only to be swatted aside by him. He was pretty rash, even against her.
So he does have some bite with that bark... She mused, pulling her arm back quickly.

The new nick-name caught her intrest. "Bitch-face?" Claw let another smirk grace her lips, "Nice vocabulary, specs. I thought we were past the subject of mutts." She stuck her hand up in his face and flipped him a bird. This kid was more fun than she had hoped for, but he was tetering on iritating. Not that he was the only guy she's ever have the pleaseure of almsot killing, but he was the only one to jump at an argument.
He puts up quite the argument for a geek...

Then he had the nerve to bring up her mask. If anything in the world bugged her, it was being asked to take it off... Even teachers couldn't get her to remove it. It's not like I need it for anything more than protection...from... Claw stopped herself mid-thought. No need to go down that road. "O-Oh dear, tomato-chan. I don't need to see your eyes that bad." Her voice quivered softly, and she caught it. For some reason Claw became very intrested in the floor-tiles. "Stupidity is strong in April. Don't want to risk catching it from you."

(OOC: Like cats and dogs. Meow. =P) (BTW, the April thing is cause it was raining at the begining... >_>)

[Matt]

The subject of fighting or arguing had always been a very strange ground for Matt. On one hand, conflict just made things more difficult and frustrating than they needed to be. That, and sometimes they'd just last too damn long and get really, really repetitive. However, there was the other, testosterone fulled, opinion he had on the matter. Nothing compared to the challenge and excitement of a good argument. There was quite a rush to be had in the pumping blood and the reeling thoughts to search for a witty remark. His arguments with guys his age tended to stir up emotions more related to the second thoughts. Girls however, (Especially a certain ex-girlfriend) leaned more towards the annoying side of the fence. Therefore, the Whammy kid knew from the start that Bitch-face here was going to be something special. She just happened to be interesting from the start. It was only that in the beginning, he was in too much pain and a little too pissed off to notice. Now, he found himself having quite a bit of amusement the very moment she flashed her middle finger in his direction. In fact, he had thought briefly of snapping the thing off, which is definitely not a healthy thought to be having about a girl. Oh yes, she was different. The thought of her being like "one of the guys" struck him, but forced a chuckle out when he realized just how insulting it could be used. That one he kept only to himself.

The very moment the girl's eyes refocused on the dull floor, Matt knew he had the upper hand. A smile spread across his smug little face. Aha. So I can strike a nerve with you. He shifted his weight ever so slightly to become more comfortable. He had that feeling that they'd be here for a while.

"Awww, what's the matter Tough Girl?" he crooned mockingly. "You want me to use my imagination or is there something under there to be ashamed of?" Another laugh threatened to come up, but then an idea struck him. Something to be ashamed of. Perhaps his new friend did have something to be ashamed of. The idea made sense, the way times were and all that jazz with Kira. Hell, everybody was on the edge of their seats, wondering who was next for the chopping block. It'd just make too much sense if Miss Defensive here was a little paranoid too. Despite the cryptic idea, Mail's smirk grew ever so slightly.

"Someone afraid of the Big Bad Kira?" he found himself murmuring to her. Although his voice kept its ridiculing nature, his volume dropped at a noticeable level so only two pairs of ears could hear. The statement surprised even its speaker when it leaped out there. Aw, crap. Word vomit.

[Claw]

Her eyes focused on the floor, Claw couldn’t help but think of how weak she must look, sitting there with her face hidden by a mask…being scared to even mention it. Being strong at all the right times was a specialty of hers, but she also had a habit of being weak at all the wrong ones. And she hated it. It didn't help that this guy was just the kind of guy she’d like to throw out a window...if he wasn’t her only form of entertainment. Without even looking up at the redhead, Claw could tell he was staring at her…and was probably enjoying his moment of triumph. She was going to make sure it was his very last, at least for now.

His taunting tone didn’t help her nerves as he pointed out her mask again, and worse, the reason. “Something to be ashamed of? Rather blunt, aren’t you Specs…?” She let a cold look meet his goggles, “What isn’t there to be ashamed of in the world now-a-days?” Philosophical comebacks. Dammit. Claw was just avoiding the subject. Being a chaser like her, Kira would be looking for her someday. Keeping her face hidden was just as important as using her alias… It's to dangerous.

Claw snapped back to normal the instant his name came up… “Afraid? Of a coward like Kira?!” Her voice began to grow in volume and strength, probably waking up a few sleeping patients (if they weren’t already listening to the pair argue…). “Why should I be?! All Kira does is hide in the shadows! He’s busy killing the people trying to catch him! What use would it do him to kill me?!” I’m screaming to save my skin...why is this happening…? Without even thinking twice, the ice eyed girl raised her hand above her head…Acting tough at all the wrong moments…and slapped the boy across his face. She regret it as soon as she hit him.

“I…I…” she stuttered, pulling her hand back suddenly. It was shaking. “…crap…I’m…sorry…My emotions got out of…control…” she whispered into her mask. She looked away again from the boy, half expecting him to retaliate with his own violent comeback. I’m such an idiot… I hate this… I’ll never get stronger like this…

(OOC: Ahhhhh...I don't know if this came out well...meeeeew...)

[Matt]

(OOC: No worries! I liked it. ^^)

Matt's gloved fingers tapped against the ground in a rhythm of the over confidence he was famous for. The smirk stayed put for now, as cruel as it may seem. After all, he needed some sort of pleasure in watching the tough chick suddenly deteriorate into a scared little girl. Apparently, his retaliation had hit the nail right on the head. Huh. The instant desire to flip around ideas on just what she had to be ashamed of popped up, but they were forced to remain mere theories, thanks to his arguing partner's frayed nerves. Amusing himself with interesting mental images of her would have to wait.

And then there was that comment that sounded more like a philosophy than a comeback. The corners of Matt's lips curled up even more. He pretty much knew by now that when people started sounded more like scholars than an angry chimpanzee, they were getting either desperate or emotional. Neither of them were exactly going to get Bitch-face anywhere. A sly little remark came to mind, but a sudden increase in volume whipped that smile off of him like a smack to the face. Wait. That actually was a smack to the face.

Well.... Damn. That was the only thing that came to mind the moment the side of his face had begun to sting. His green eyes were left wide and stunned, every tiny detail of the shock dancing in them. Thankfully for him though, the tinted lenses would be enough to hide that. The smug look was replaced with a sudden frown. He blinked dumbly. Holy mother of sensitivity. Well, at least he had found out what the mask was for. The thought struck him know that perhaps this girl really wasn't all bark. Maybe she actually did have something to be ashamed of. All that was left to the imagination now was whether her shame was like his and Mello's, or something just plain destructive. Now Matt couldn't even imagine getting bored with this.

Finally, his frazzled thoughts started to make sense again. He shifted his jaw quite obviously to shake off some of the stinging sensation left behind, but there was nothing to be done about the huge red mark. Oh well, it'd be a good conversation starter later. His lids dropped suddenly into a blank glare, one that would make anybody wonder just what kind of pay back he was coming up with. Of course he wasn't about to hit her back though. Sure, he would fully admit that he was a pretty crappy human being, but hitting a girl? That was beyond him even! So, as tempting as it was, he came up with something else with a pissed off sigh.

"Damn straight, Bitch-face!" he barked at her apology. Obviously, he wasn't going to waste time telling her it was alright, mainly because it wasn't alright. With a heavy groan, Matt finally pushed himself to his feet. He stumbled for a moment because of his ankle, but refused to let it affect his tough body language. "And just for that," he announced. "You're taking me to your room. I need to use your bathroom's air vent," Oh yeah, that definitely sounded weird. He didn't care though. After all, he was actually going some place with that. The stranger's insane personality was too much amusement to walk away from, but the craving for tobacco was only enlarged by the frustration of today. So, what was the next best thing? Smoking into an air vent and seeing if it gets rid of the smell, of course. Ever since he saw someone do it on some TV rehab show, he'd always wanted to give it a shot.

"And stop looking like a leaf on a windy day," he moaned. "You're even uglier when your upset," Almost too casually, he slipped his hands into his pockets. "So, what did you do to get yourself all worked up? Theft? Assault?" He tilted his head as if to look her up and down. "You look like too much of a pansy deep down to be a killer,"

[Claw]

Claw took another look at the boy she had just slapped. He was more stunned than angry, which was the normal reaction of any human. Still, it surprised her just a bit. His face was intresting though. He's ticked off... She held a chuckle back, replacing it with a soft cough. A chilly remark slipped past her still slightly frazzled apperance, "So you're not gonna hit me? Surprise, surprise," her voice dripped in the same acid she had earlier, "You really seemed like the type to go through with it, specs." Perfect. Mood swing again. Claw absent-mindedly tightened her mask.

She blinked a couple times at his comeback. Yap like a hound, why don't you? Doesn't sound like he's hurt at all... Claw's eyes rested on the boys cheek, a sadistic smirk graced her lip, "Nice mark. Matches your hair," she almost whispered that to herself, but she knew he'd heard her anyway...

"Wait a minute, tomato-chan... Air-vent? You're a smoker?" Claw just stared at him dumbly for a few seconds, "Never thought you'd be the type..." Even if you are wearing stoner clothing. She coughed again to stop that from slipping out. Personally, Claw didn't have anything against smokers or smoking in general, it just wasn't something she'd ever do. ...since Riyu would hang me from the roof if she ever found out... Claw stood up after the boy, smirking slightly at his wobbling, then considered his offer...or rather his order... "Fine. Whatever. But if you leave any ashes lying around, you're out the window. Got it, Annie?" (Where the hell are these nicknames coming from...)

"I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that second one," Claw said cooly. She proceded to wipe another smudge of blood from her face before putting both arms up behind her head, "And do I look like a theif to you?" Her glare could give Simon Cowell a run for his money, "There's a hundred people out there who would react like that. Maybe a thousand. Don't need to be a criminal to fear the axe...it doesn't help to be on his enemy's side, though..." Her voice trailed off at the last line. She went about six shades darker. Crap crap crap...didn't mean to say that...

(OOC: To borrow Light's phrase: "EXACTLY AS PLANNED!")