Way Down on the Bayou

When you're a woman like Essmerelda, there wasn't much going on family-wise. Her mother left her in an orphanage, her father was probably in jail, her foster parents were probably getting on with their lives and whatnot, and then there was her. The orphan no one really cared about. Of course, now with her new boyfriend, Essa had something to look forward to every morning, somewhat. Relationships were a blessing and a curse. But she liked a good game once in awhile.

The Brooklyn oriented woman was only down in New Orleans for a little 'business trip'. She wasn't sure why SHE was sent there alone, but hey, she'd always wanted to visit the rag-tag town of New Orleans. A capital of voodoo, magic, ghosts, and witchcraft. It was all interesting--But then again, WEIRD always interested the weird woman. She was in a nice pair of blue skinny jeans and a tank top--Currently just walking through the quiet, almost ghostly town streets. The street cars were silent and not moving in the cool, brisk night and the harvest moon shone eerily between the cities beautiful, ancient buildings. Resturants had lines outside--the only source of chatter and disturbance in the air. Ah, yes, the food. New Orleans was most notible on their strange and wonderful food choices--No wonder all the lines were so long. Seeing a dark alley way and needing to call back to her boss, the massive woman slowly made her way towards it.

She figured that after she made her call, she'd get dinner, but of course, she didnt expect to meet someone else. Well, not meet persay, but rather, run in to. Not seeing where she was going in the dark, she ran smack into a man of the same height and she backed up defensively. "Shit, sorry, man. Didn't see you there . . . " She muttered, running a hand thruogh her bleach blonde ringlets.

Rascalov, who was currently in control of the two-man body, was currently walking along the streets of New Orleans, a cup of coffee in one hand and a paper in the other. He seemed to have the ability to duck and dodge through the crowds as he expertly alternated between drinking and reading. His hands were covered in black leather fingerless gloves, with rebel spike bands around his wrists, a spike choker around his neck, black leather pants and black combat boots, though he had decided to forgo a shirt(like usual) and his trademark leather trenchcoat. Yeah, he was feeling rebellious and like a headbanger today. He read through the rather bland newspaper as he stuffed his coffee-cup under one arm and combed his black-clawed fingers through his long, spiky white hair.

He let out a small 'oomph' as he collided with someone. He blinked in shock and surprise as he was forced to back up a few steps from the collision. The gentlemanly hero's mind registered the voice of a woman apologizing to him and he looked at the woman he collided with. He raised an eyebrow and gave her light smile, his fangs peaking out of his upper lip. "Why, that's quite alright my dear. I was a little preoccupied with the paper and wasn't watching where I was going either" he said in his rugged, but silky and suave and easy-on-the-ears voice. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Rascalov, pleasure to make your acquaintance" he said as he gave her a classy smile and kissed her on gently and smoothly on the hand.

"Sup, I'm Essmerelda, Essa, Silver Hellfire, 'that white bitch', anything you wanna call me, hun. Sorry I didn't see you again, I'm a tourist here, I guess you could say." She shrugged a shoulder slightly. Jerking her hand from his grasp, the massive woman crossed both arms stuotly over her chest. She had a suave, slick, charming boyfriend--she knew plenty about his type.

"You don't seem like your typical rag-tag, New Orleans guy--Where're you from? I'm from New York, obviously. The accents too hard to miss . . . " But then again it was true, Essa had lived in Brooklyn all her life and felt a bit out of place in Cajun Country. Whatever, she thought to herself, she was on a mission and got to tour as well--A win-win ordeal.

He looked at her with a raised white eyebrow as she told him about herself. She was an unusual woman to say the least, amazonian-like and obviously a superhuman. She was almost like a female version of Pain. He just certainly hoped she wasn't similar to him in personality. That would make his skin crawl in horror, since one Pain was already too much for him. He smiled in a charming manner at her when she asked him where he was from. "Well, it is a divine pleasure to meet you, dear Esmeralda. My birthplace was Washington D.C my dear. Unfortunately, I don't have that many memories that far back and only remember things after I went to New York when I was 20, which I find strange as because my name is Russian and I don't remember anything about my parents or my nationality" he said with a dismissive shrug, only partially lying since he never had parents and his nationality is that of a superhuman/mutant really. He certainly wasn't going to divulge that much about himself to this woman who he has only just met. He may have below average intelligence but that didn't mean he was a complete dunderhead.

" . . . O . . . kay . . . ?" She blinked those ridgid sapphire blue eyes at him cautiously and almost curiously. "Hey, wait--" Picking up her phone and turning the screen light on, she held it to his face. "Oh, damn, your hair's whiter than mine. Do you bleach or are your like me and have no pigmentation in your body?" She questioned in an almost sarcastic tone. Essa never particularly liked talking about her strange and unexplainable case of albinism. BUT, she enver insutled people based on looks and when she did speculate about someone else, she always put herself as an example so the other person could hopefully understand that she didn't want to start comparisons. She was merely curious.

{(Gonna head out now--I'll reply when I get back from the movies ^_^})

Rascalov looked at her as she blinked in what was probably confusion or nervousness, which one he couldn't tell. He was about to give her a polite and gentlemanly goodbye before she asked him to wait. He stood there as she took out a phone and shined the light on him. The completely white woman asked him about his hair and he touched his mane of white in an almost insecure manner. "My hair is naturally this color" the extremely pale superhuman said as a frown made it's way to his face. He was a little surprised someone asked that, since most people that he conversed with usually commented on his paleness, his claw-like fingernails or his fangs, since he knew very well he was unusual and almost villain-like in appearance.

Nodding slightly, she told him quietly, "I didn't mean it in a rude way--I was curious. See, I'm a mutated freak. Mom tried to abort me, but I lived, instead the chemicals made my limbs grow larger. When I was 10 or so, I was involved in that massive chemical spill in Brooklyn and it bleached me to . . . this color. I used to be tan with black hair . . . green eyes. So, don't think that I'm trying to make a joke out of you--Im not. How could I joke about you when I'm worse off, hm . . . ?" Essa knew well who and what she was--Nowawadays, she just didn't care. She was definately insecure, but she knew showed it. It was all part of her character, after all.

Rascalov offered her a comforting hand on her shoulder, hoping it would help ease her mind somewhat. He certainly felt like a freak at times, those times being when his alter ego was in control. He certainly would have rather not existed at all during those times, since he remembers everything his alter ego did while he was in control, the guilt and his self-hatred constantly eating away at him. "I know how you feel my dear. I have an alternate personality that is rather infamous. He is a deranged lunatic that kills because he finds it fun and he's even eaten babies. I try my best to stay in control and the guilt and disgust with my shared existence with him eats away at me all the time" he said as one of those cartoonish emo clouds appeared over his head and showered him in imaginary rain, an expression of pure guilt, depression and self-disgust on his face.

Glancing at his face, she blinked a few times. " . . . Really . . . ? Look, I don't . . . tell many people this, so pay attention." Glancing around, she took a little breath and leaned in a bit closer. "I'm the Silver Hellfire. I was a highly notable criminal for many years in New York . . . I've been to prison for 5 years and I've been from hell and back . . . I know I just met you, but you're interesting. If you ever need to talk, I'll be here. I get what you're saying . . . "

Rascalov looked up at her with a raised eyebrow, looking very interested. They were kind of alike, only she was in control of her actions where he wasn't in control of his alternate self. He felt a little better that she wanted to talk with him so they could ease each other's insecurities a bit. He gave her a grateful smile, feeling like he wasn't completely along in the world. "I thank you. Most people would run away from me or try to capture me if they were aware of who my alter ego was. I can't tell you who he is, but I'll give you some hints He's extremely well-known in New York, he's the first villain to show up in New York, he has single-handedly killed thousands in New York and he's the only villain in New York that hasn't been permanently taken out, he's also a mutant that loves to sing to himself and make stupid jokes when he's doing his mindless rampages" he said, hoping she would connects the dots to that of Chaos, the Big Bad, a legendary supervillain of New York that was considered a boogeyman to residents of New York, whether they were heroes, villains or innocent bystanders. He had racked up more kills, stole more valuables and cause more property damage in New York then any other menace and was even around when Esmeralda was just a child. Children are constantly told stories about the rampages and psychotic drivel and lack-of-regard for life as horror stories when you're a New Yorker. If you were aware of who he was, it would be hard to imagine for such a psychotic, babbling mutant freak of nature to be an alternate ego of this gentlemanly, guilt-filled hero.

Severl moments passed in eerie silence as the pale woman recalled her younger years as a criminal in New York . . . The tales of a criminal similar to his description reminded her of--"No. No way, man. It's . . . That's CRAZY! Uh uh, I'm not believing that." She snickered a bit, not thinking it to be very possible for a man to be . . . Chaos. A beast she knew about adn heard the boys talking abuot back in middle school . . . Everyone feared him. And all the young kids were terrified or interested in the Fiend . . . . Essa refused to beleive she was talking to one of the best criminals New York had ever seen. "Now seriously, who are you . . . ?"

Rascalov looked up at her with a frown before deciding that he only had one way to prove it to her. He grabbed her by the hand and lead her to an abandoned alley. There, he let her hand go and his body started to change and contort until it turned into the familiar gray-skinned beast with tentacles for a quick second before quickly changing back. He then looked at her with an expecting look of fear on his fear, as if fearing she would try to attack him or run away from him as he waited for her reaction, an elegant eyebrow raising up, as if to ask her 'Believe me now?'

" . . . . Well fuck, I think I just shit my pants." She admitted completely wide-eyed. "Uh . . . I believe you now, bro. Just . . . don't eat me and suck my blood and we can be odd friends, m'kay?" Shaking her head, still not sure WHAT the hell she just saw, she took a step back and gazed at him. "Chaos was terrifying . . . How do you like . . . Change and control yourself or whatever . . . ?"

Rascalov cleared his throat as he fixed the hair that moved about when he transformed and quickly straightened out his clothes. He then gave her a sheepish look and scratched the back of his neck. "We are two different personalities. Our personalities and thinking powers and even our powers change between the forms. We are basically like Jekyll and Hyde, one good and one evil. Where Chaos was pure evil, I've been going around trying to absolve my soul of my other self's sins by becoming a hero" he explained to her in a much calmer manner as he sighed in relief, thanking the gods above that she didn't abandon him. Chaos was his biggest secret and biggest shame, one he would like to just abandon for good but feared that they would be stuck together for good.

"Oh . . . I completely understand triyng to repent, hun. When I got out of jail I became Catholic and . . . yeah. I'm 'good' now and have an alliance with supers. So, you could say I turned my life around. I wish you the same luck . . . Your case seems more extreme . . . " She admitted, glancing at his face and holding his gaze for several moments before glancing back at the ground.