[i]Irina only pocketed the bloodied knife within her coat, a thin, almost jolly smile upon her pale face as she merely clapped for Ghiaccio. She was genuinely happy about the restoration of his body, to say the least - and yeah, she'd be ultra cool with letting him live in her and Athena's apartment.[/i]

His body changed to suit his new abilities, his nails were now long and sharp, perfect to draining a target of blood. He looked more muscular than his usual thin frame, though he wasn't fuсking Fist of the North Star jacked. Ghiaccio opened his eyes and looked at Irina, his vision was much more clearer than it ever was and thus he didn't need the glasses. He took off the red framed glasses and crushed them like one would do with a piece of paper and tossed them on the wheelchair. He picked out the shards of glass that got stuck in his hand, the wounds healed up rather quickly as well. "This...is....perfect." He said, looking down at the wheelchair.

[i]Irina only stared at Ghiaccio's new dorm triumphantly, as she crossed her arms and stood up straight. His new form actually did somewhat intimidate her, especially the fact that he had almost immediately recover from his crippled state. [/i] [u]So should we test just how far the regeneration can go?[/u] [i]Irina asked this in sign language: she wanted to see how much he could endure.[/i]

"Yes. However I must note that my head would be a...weak spot should you call it, specifically my brain. If that is destroyed then I cannot regenerate and I will die." He replied, staring at Irina.

[i]Irina nodded, before suddenly jolting towards Ghiaccio at blinding speeds-[/i] [i]She stopped right in front of him, the blade of the serrated knife shoved right into his solar plexus. By testing him out - she had taken a major risk and stabbed him head-on. She tore the knife out, waiting for the regeneration.[/i]

Ghiaccio placed a hand over his stomach, specifically the spot he was shanked in. He was breathing heavy with a look of shock on his face, before it turned into a smug smirk. The wound started to close itself again, flesh, muscle and veins reformed itself again, a gruesome sight to most. It was a short minute before he was fully regenerated again, the only evidence being the blood stain on his blouse, which he proceeded to take off.

[i]Irina merely watched in her own amazement as the wound healed right in front of her eyes - the sight of his regeneration had truly amazed her, although she would not have sacrificed the ability to walk freely in the sunlight for something of it's caliber. For now - she would keep Ghiaccio safe from any UV lights, within her home and outside of the walls she stood within.[/i] [u]So that worked. Should we set up a place for you to live?[/u]

[spoiler]which furry ----bag?[/spoiler]

[spoiler]Well, Ghiaccio still thinks and refuses to believe otherwise that it was Quincy who got him crippled. Because he didn't see Grant.[/spoiler]

[i]It wouldn't take long for that psychotic Russian to show his face. After only another half an hour, the crunching of snow was heard rapidly approaching, as well as a string of muttered swears and death threats. He was livid a the Vileblood, as he was practically always. Jason was [b]not[/b] wearing his armour for once, finally having been able to tear himself away from the love of his life. He was mostly unarmed, too, with the only gun on him being a goddamn .50 calibre gatling gun, or a GAU-19/B. It, instead of the traditional belt, had a small box covering the feed, in which was a hardlight printer thing. The giant gun was currently at the ride side of Jason's back, his cybernetic arm being pretty capable of handling its recoil. Now, for clothes, Jason was wearing a simple white T-shirt that hugged his muscular physique nicely, showing them off as if he wanted them to be seen. Which he did, since he was mighty proud of his manliness - especially at forty. On his chest, proudly displayed, were his dogtags, which showed the Russian's date of birth, his full name, etcetera. Covering his legs were a pair of camoflauged pants, with a set of black army boots on his feet. [/i] "Mothafuсkin', black, big tittied whоres in da middle o' fuсkin' Dubai, I cannot believe I'm doin' dis fuсkin' shiet." [i]He muttered to himself, seeming to throw in a swear at every single chance he got. He took a seat opposite of Irina, the chair giving somewhat of a groan in protest under his weight. He then glared at the Vileblood, before directing his attention to his left arm, right hand wrapping a belt around it, in the usual place for injection addicts as well as people who needed to get their blood tapped. [/i] "Fuсk yee," [i]He said, looking back over at Irina, before immediately shifting his attention again as his right hand produced a syringe from one of his pockets. He jabbed the syringe into his arm, the string of curses and death threats still continuing as he injected himself. Soon enough, he pulled the needle out, stuffing it back in his pocket, before taking the belt off his arm and stuffing that away as well. Then, after a few minutes, the string of mean words stopped as the drugs kicked in. Jason had just drugged himself so he wouldn't fly at Irina's throat. [/i]

[i]The outfit definitely surprised the Vileblood, but the gun didn't exactl-[/i] [i]...Oh. It was a gatling gun.[/i] [i]While Irina had gone against gatling gun users in the distant past (Yes, there is a Gatling Gun in Bloodborne.), she doubted that she could reasonably prepare for...well, this. As Jason plopped down and proceeded to take the drug, Irina only smirked as he spewed out insults and curses; she had dealt with that shit for years now. From death threats from furious civilians to nearly being arrested by crooked cops for "Disturbing the peace" (Which mind you, Irina thought that was perfectly fine.), she had dealt with it all, especially what Jason was speaking of.[/i] [u]"Yeah, 'n fook ya too, ya slimeh piece o' shit!"[/u] [i]Irina laughed at her own shitty impersonation of Jason, clearly finding some sort of amusement in the entire situation. Which people usually didn't do when the mother-blam!-er that was angry at them had a big ass gun. [/i]

[i]Jason went completely and utterly dead silent. Even a corpse couldn't be as silent as he was. His eyes slowly looked back over to Irina, both grey-silver lookers narrowed, face expressionless. Then, slowly, the corners of Jason's lips curled up into a grin, before Oldseph Joestar burst into laughter, his right hand slamming down into the table.. Which was a bad idea, as the whole table was utterly destroyed. Though the Russian, in his drugged position, didn't even care or realize. After a while, the laughter died down, and Jason returned to silently look at Irina, a dreamy smile on his face, which showed his perfect teeth because my characters aren't allowed to have flaws. He chuckled, right hand slowly reaching out to the Vileblood.. Before softly poking her nose, the word "boop" leaving Jason's lips, after which he chuckled again. He withdrew his hand, and returned to silently observe Irina.[/i]

[i]Irina hadn't moved at all as Jason had slammed jammed that table - but she certainly did jolt from the sudden "boop". She almost jumped away, still remaining in her iron chair's seat.[/i] [u]"...What...the hell."[/u] [i]To say the least?[/i] [i]Irina was hella confused. She figured that it was a trap of some kind - that the Russian man had set up some sort of trick so he could tear her to shreds with the gun he had, or crush her head as her back was turned, or...Irina didn't understand it at all.[/i]

[i]Well, you see, you wouldn't even reply if I did ANYTHING like that, and don't even try to tell me otherwise. So.. Jason only grinned, clearly drugged out of his goddamn mind if his dilated pupils and dreamy expression were any indication. He chuckled softly, slowly inhaling, and then exhaling a few times. Once he had calmed himself down, his left hand started to fidget with his right.[/i] "But, uh, how're ya? 'Nd, yes, before ya ask: I will resume mah witch hunt once I'm sober. Cuz I realleh don' like ya. 'Nd, I mean, y'definiteleh deserve it, with da whole mass murderin' shenanigans y've got goin fo' yerself. I mean, if it weren' fo' tha' incapable heap o' scrap Tesuto or wha'eva his name is.." [i]He snorted, a toothy grin on his face as he continued to fidget with his hand, which was already detached from the wrist, with it being a grappling hook and stuff. Handy arm, definitely. [/i]

[spoiler]JT, Treyman, both, neither. Take a pick. [/spoiler]

[spoiler]http://66.media.tumblr.com/de5e51bfb16f7542c29a7a1e30a823b5/tumblr_nmmavtAKhq1rnskvzo4_1280.png[/spoiler] [b]The man, by definition, was massive, and even more so, the sword he carried on his shoulder. He wouldn't need to worry about hitting anyone, as his right foot body usually kept the sword from hitting others. He was tan skinned with a jaw line that was clearly defined in a square head. The start of a beard grew on him, seemingly but multiple times, unlike the somewhat long brown hair, in a peculiar style. Despite the temperature, he wore no under shirt beneath the unzipped leather jacket. The jeans fit loosely, like the cross necklace wrapped around his neck. A massive scar was upon his face, going through one eye, yet it still remained active. He lumbered over, taking a seat opposite of the woman, somewhat uninvited. He simply stared for a moment... Before finally speaking.[/b] So, [b]His voice was probably the deepest, most gravely voice ever heard, to a point where it was hard to understand.[/b] You're the woman behind the slaughters... [b]Once again he stopped to look, simply gazing at your hat, then face, and finally away to the people around.[/b] Arena, it's not exactly a pleasure, but I can say hello.

[spoiler]Don't wanna describe her every time.... https://www.bungie.net/en/Forums/Post/219056443?page=0&sort=0&showBanned=0&path=1[/spoiler] A fair light blue skinned woman walked in towards the door, past Irina wearing a fitting combat dress. She passed the pale woman and entered the establishment. But before the door could close. It quickly opened back up. And Anne was poking her head out of it and looking at Irina. "...Are you Irina?"

[i]To absolutely -blam!- with Anne's head, Irina wanted to try out something.[/i] [i]As soon as Anne appeared, Irina whistled in an almost flirtatious manner, before replying with a wide grin.[/i] [u]"Hey..."[/u] [i]She even added a wink, before actually replying.[/i] [u]"Yep, I'm Irina, honey. Whatcha need?"[/u]

Anne raised an eyebrow as she walked out of the door to meet with Irina. "I...uh...was just...wondering?" Anne was definitely confused.

[u]"...Wondering?"[/u] [i]Irina's tone became slightly more serious, although that familiar tint of sarcasm remained in it. She began tapping the iron table, as if waiting.[/i]