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It's only a matter of time; if someone were looking to find the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, they only need to follow the sound of violence. Given the mounting mob tension around these parts, it's only a matter of time.
It's been a quiet night, but that won't last for long. Outside a corner pub, three men argue about something. They're Irish; it probably has to do with vice. Within moments, mobsters begin pouring from the shadows, guns and knives drawn. The shouting intensifies; guns are cocked, knives waved in a threatening manner.
Then, a billy club whips through the air and knocks a six shooter right out of some guido's hands.
In a flash, the group is engaged by the man in red. He moves with feral intensity caged only by his martial training, throwing punches and landing kicks, leaping over bent backs and landing on irish faces. Within the span of twenty seconds, the group is on the ground, broken, bleeding and moaning.
*
The Devil was being watched by the Serpent. She doesn't interfere, not does she get into a zone that would mark her as a pending victim. She keeps her distance and gazes on as the figure in red does what he does best. Her smell carries, sticking out after all the blood and sweat and cold 'sting' of winter air. It was warmth and of flora far away.
She didn't speak, nor interupt, and after a few moments of second guessing herself, the nervous 'thumping' of a youthful heart start to fade as she moves to walk away. Her steps press almost without sound, but now and then, they send ripples through puddles of melted slush and snow. He could hear her voice muttering to herself, but even that was as clear as day to the man without fear. The tone, the inflection? Even if it was in a different tongue, he could tell she was berating herself.
*
For a long few moments, Daredevil simply stands there, looking at the mess he's made. Or rather, the mess he's prevented. Faces appear in the window of the pub, pressed against the glass, staring. He cannot see them, but he can hear them. Along with something else.
Turning, the vigilante stalks toward the shadows cast by poor, underfunded lighting. He follows the Serpent, his mouth contorted into a frown. Only when he's close enough does he raise a hand, cupped around his mouth, and murmurs a quite word.
"Stop."
The sound bounces off a window, through a pipe, and directly into Lynette's ear. Louder than it should be, seeming closer than it really is.
*
As if they had traded places at the gala, just hours before, the girl freezes in place and lowers her gaze down at the ground before her scuffy-booted feet. She does as she's told, even as her body shrinks up a bit more in her comfortable winter coat, her face pressing into the folds of her blue scarf. The shift of her heart tells him everything he needs to know in that moment; she was afraid.
Turning in place, she stares down at the darkness around her, and out toward where the voice came from.
*
"Here. Into the shadows." Daredevil lost his grappling club to that troublesome odor, and is worried about it, but more than that, he's upset. No way to easily climb to the rooftops and out of trouble's way. So, into the darkness he goes, and the voice beckons her clear as day. "You're afraid. Don't be."
*
The girl follows after, turning this way, and that. Soon, she would come up upon the 'source' or close enough to it. Once there, she moves her hands into the brisk air, blanketing their space with even more darkness. None could see through it, pass it, into it, and just maybe, their voices were silenced as well. "Why not?" She questions, her hands slipping back into the warmth of her pockets. "Y'ran off on m'earlier. Hell, 'verybody did. N'y'workin' pretty hard out dere. Got me t'inkin' y'was upset wit me." A pause. "I c'm t'say m'sorry…"
*
"There are many reasons why I am upset," Daredevil murmurs, no longer throwing his voice. As the shadows creep in, the masked man becomes more visible. He's perched up against the wall, still as the night itself, body and face masked in blood red. "But I can't fault you for being clever enough to figure it out," he tells her. His face contorts; he can't perceive the darkness, but the muting effect on the noise around them, that he can discern. It's almost comforting in a way, having the noise of the city blotted out, now leaving only what exists within that short distance for him to hear. "You came looking for me?" he asks quietly.
*
"Why y'upset? What'r de reasons?" She girl questions, looking up and toward the man directly now that his voice comes from one spot. Snake like eyes watch him ever so carefully, and her attention is on him alone. He can hear her heart skip now and then, a clear indication that her nerves were still jumpy. "I ain't cleva, beau. Jus' lucky, I t'ink. Dey was dis…hint of y', on m'tongue." A pause, "I, ah, c'n smell good wit it. 'nyway…yeah. C'm lookin' f'y'. T' 'pologize. I don' got m'ny friends, Devil. 'n, well, I liked talkin' wit y'de otha night. Guess I ain't ready t'piss dat chance 'way jus' yet."
*
Lynette takes Chalk.
*
"Why y'upset? What'r de reasons?" The girl questions, looking up and toward the man directly now that his voice comes from one spot. Snake like eyes watch him ever so carefully, and her attention is on him alone. He can hear her heart skip now and then, a clear indication that her nerves were still jumpy. "I ain't cleva, beau. Jus' lucky, I t'ink. Dey was dis…hint of y', on m'tongue." A pause, "I, ah, c'n smell good wit it. 'nyway…yeah. C'm lookin' f'y'. T' 'pologize. I don' got m'ny friends, Devil. 'n, well, I liked talkin' wit y'de otha night. Guess I ain't ready t'piss dat chance 'way jus' yet."
*
"Someone stole one of my clubs," answers Daredevil easily. "It will not be easy to replace. And the Mayor…" He shakes his head. "This Powered Police force is not going to be a good thing, in the end." He draws in a long, deep breath, then reaches forward, trying to find the woman's arm. "I am sorry to have run off on you. But… nobody knows who I really am."
That's not entirely true, of course, but… Matt would ultimately prefer it to be that way. "I need you to keep it a secret, Anima Sola."
*
"M'sorry." She begins, and her head gives a light nod here and there as he continues. "I-I don' t'ink it is, neitha. Don' t'ink dat May'r fella likes me." A smirk, but the somewhat pleased, tired, expression fades as quickly it arrives. He finds her arm, even if she moves it slightly to allow him touch. "Dey don' gotta know n't'ing, Devil. I ain't 'bout t' go screamin' it fr'm de rooftops. Jus' like I tried hidin' myself 'way, too."
Her hand moves up, resting on his wrist, and then his hand, as it grips her arm. "I ain't gonna tell n'body." Watching over his face, the part that she can see without its cover, she glances over his lips and then stares at another set of crimson-glass eyes that show her face back at her. "I seen 'lot of y'already, Devil. I don' mind knowin' who y'really are. Maybe, maybe y'havin' s'mbody out dere t'trust ain't bad. 'member, we gotta look out f'one 'notha, non?"
*
Daredevil listens carefully, though he does look down to the woman's hand when she finds his own. It's likely different for her, touching the glove, but for Matt, he can feel everything. The unique leather he wears only serves to mute some of the sensations that would have otherwise overwhelmed him.
With a slow shake of his head, he takes the woman's hand with his other one, holding it on either side. "Of course we do," he tells her. "But no one can be there, all the time. Do you know why I chose to represent that monster, Cavassini?" he asks her quietly, knowing that she won't know the answer.
"I was trying to get close to him. To his associates. So that I could bring the mafia down, eventually."
He shakes his head, looking down and sighing deeply. "Now, it's only a matter of time before they do that themselves, or someone else comes to power." He looks back up to her. "How many innocent people will die in the process? We can't be there, all the time, for everybody."
*
Lynette is silent for some time, glancing at their joined hands, even as her own digits tenderly grip around his own. They squeeze now and then, offering him silent support and comfort. "If y'know dat, why y'sound like you don' wanna b'lieve dat?" She inquires, her voice almost a whisper between them. "Y'sound…I dunno, guilty? Like y'takin' de blame f's'mt'ing y'got no powa ova."
Another squeeze, the snake-eyed girl glance down the mouth of the alley way, only to look through the shadowy guard that moves about them protectively. "I don' like it eitha, chere. De ones dat suffa, n'I t'ink y'know dat. But y'right, we c'n' be dere all de time. All we c'n do is what's in a'power t'do so. Dat ain't 'nough f'ev'rybody, but…s'nough f's'm. Don' dat make all de diff'rence? Y'doin' when y'don' gotta."
*
Daredevil smiles in a sad way. He doesn't remove his mask, but he does lean a bit closer, his voice becoming a whisper. "I believe there will never be an end to this violence," he tells her. "And I'm worried that one day? It will make monsters of those it does not kill." Yes, he will fight against that for the rest of his life, but the fear is there, deep within. He's seen what he can do, he's known those moments intimately, where he's stilled his hand from the killing blow. It doesn't change the fact that, every time he's wrestled with the choice. It would be so much easier to just… remove the threats. But, he won't do it.
*
She frowns, keeping her gaze set on his masked features, and his lips when he speaks. The hand not holding to his own reaches up and timidly brushes over the stubble along his jaw and chin. Without pause, or hesitation, she pulls him close and slips her arms around his torso, hugging him close, and pressing up on her toes to help ease the foot length gap in their heights.
"Dere's calms, n'den dere's storms. Y'keep goin', even if y't'ink y'sinkin'. Ain't easy, f'it was, den de world wouldn' need pe'ple like us. Don' f'get, dough, y'c'n have de darkness wit out de light, n'dat's true," She murmurs, her lips close to where his ear should be. "Even f'a blind man."
*
Arms slip down to his side when she jumps up and hugs him. For a moment or two, they just hang there, aimless, fingers still trembling a bit from all of the violence. Then, when she murmurs into his ear, his arms leap up and pull her close, a sharp breath being drawn in. So guarded, so detached, splitting everything he cares about away from what he does when he's out here like this.
His head drops down into her shoulder and he sighs deeply.
*
Lynette keeps her arms around him, squeezing, one foot coming off the ground once his own arms link around her petite form. "We people, Devil. Jus' people. We ain't gods, even if s'm t'ink we are. We people, n'people? We make mistakes." She explains gently, her head resting against his with a gentle lean. "M'here, ok?"
*
"Yeah," Daredevil answers, quietly. He then gently makes to set her down, and unwraps his arms, pulling back. His chest rises and falls in a steadying manner, and he seems to steel himself from all of the emotion, growing cold once more. His mind is conflicted, and when his mind becomes conflicted, he simply… shuts it down. "I… have somewhere I should be."
A lie.
*
Before he had pulled away, the girls hand was resting on the back slope of his covered skull, caressing in a tender, soothing manner. Now on the flats of her feet, she takes a step back and places her hands back into her coat pockets. She notices the shift, her brows furrowing as she studies him, giving Murdock the very know feeling of being 'watched' or 'measured'. "Y'runnin' 'gain?" She asks plainly. "Y'don' gotta, y'know. We c'n get outta de cold, n'jus'…talk." A pause, she at least takes a step back, giving him physical space. "Y'know…if y'dam breaks, y'ain't gonna be good at catchin' de flood watas no mo'. Don' let y'self crack, chere. Not when y'don' gotta."
*
That last remark brings a smirk to his face. "It's… complicated, Lynette," Daredevil answers. "I'm sorry." He turns, ready to do just what she expects, before he thinks better of leaving on such rude terms. He turns back around and grins a bit. "It's Matthew. The other guy." Just to be clear.
And then, just like that, he's running off into the darkness.