Snippet #2364313

As the Slayer filth had grown gradually but steadily closer and closer, Nirvana became more and more certain, due to the relatively faint scent of human (blood, to be more precise) that was intermingling with Slayer stench, that said creature had either just killed someone, or the human had arrived as well, and was... bleeding, for some reason. He supposed that they might have gotten into a small altercation. Either that, or the human had shown up that way, which was a little perplexing as far as the "why" of it.

The two were nearing (or the one, depending) and Nirvana found himself curious, and more so with each passing heartbeat. What would this Slayer be like? Surely, it would appear to be the bane of all demons (as, naturally, it was). Perhaps tall, even taller that Nirvana himself maybe. Muscle-bound or lean? He supposed either would be appropriate. In his mind's eye, he saw what he'd always thought of Slayers being: tall, dark, intimidating, and an immediate threat to all those around it. The Champion Slayer would most certainly be one who, despicable alignment aside, would probably be, dare he think, an honor to engage in combat with. Someone he couldn't wait to see. Nirvana leaned forward in his seat, eyes glued to the door, curiosity begging to be sated.

With all of his wondering and assumptions, one can most definitely surmise Nirvana's reaction when he saw the figure who had kicked the door right off of his hinges.

He tilted his head to one side, eyes narrowed and one sleek brow raised quizzically. How... How... How...

...disappointing.

Nirvana relaxed himself and let his brow drop, sighing softly. The Champion of Slayers was little more than a whelp that had just wriggled from the confines of its mother. If this was the best that BLOOD could do, a damn near child, then the rest of the Slayers were obviously nothing more than weaklings themselves. And here, all his life he'd thought Slayers were to be avoided, that they were a threat. This creature hardly looked old enough to tie its own shoelaces. Pathetic. He'd seen humans more dangerous than this. Hell, he'd killed some of them. BLOOD was either a daycare center in disguise, or they were purposefully insulting the strength of everyone else present. Either would not have surprised him anymore.

Furthermore, took all of his self-control and then some to keep from striding over to that let-down of a Slayer and backhanding him right across the damn face. At SPARK, outside of the arena or any battles, you did not enter a room in such a cocky manner when your betters were present without facing severe... discipline. As it appeared, not only was BLOOD a daycare, it was a rotten one at that. Their filthy charges didn't even know basic manners. Several parts of his mind told Nirvana that it was just a cultural difference, while others egged on his irritation. In the end, one of the only things that stopped him was the fact that it was common knowledge that making any sort of physical contact with a Slayer was more unsanitary that wallowing in the blood and entrails of a thousand slaughtered pigs for a day, and Nirvana didn't have a handkerchief on him at the moment to clean his hand off afterwards. Damn. He should've brought one. Little known fact: outside of a fight, and the occasional hunt that got a bit too messy, demons were some of the most hygienic beings ever created.

When the disgusting creature began speaking, Nirvana payed less attention to the words as he did the voice itself. Subsequently, he was forced to hide his face by slouching forward and harshly biting his tongue in an attempt to hide how hard he was trying not to laugh. If he had started laughing, it would have looked rather childish of him. But how was he not supposed to find this funny? It sounded like a female! He'd been under the impression that there would only be two girls present, and there he was having ended being the only man to show! Not only was the "Champion" of the Slayers a young imp, it obviously couldn't even decide whether it was a boy or girl. Nirvana couldn't figure it out either, the creature was so confusing.

Rather than retort verbally and sink to the juvenile's level, he satiated the very slight offense he'd taken to the boy's (or hermaphroditical.... creature's) attempt at condescension with a mental comment of his own, swimming amongst his sea of other thoughts. And I, CHAMPION of Demons, am supposed to COOPERATE with prey, MORE prey, and a pretentious CHILD? And here I THOUGHT you, CREATURE, were to be a THREAT. With that he sat up straight again, a light smirk upon his face. If this boy (thing) was going to be an issue, he decided, he would deal with the Slayer worm later. Nirvana found it difficult to shake his disappointment, though. He supposed that he deserved it for not paying more attention to the information SPARK had provided him with earlier. He promised himself to actually look at the Slayer file next time, assuming there was to be a next time (which, of course, he knew there was not).

It was then that he remembered there was a human nearby. When he caught sight of her entering, Nirvana pursed his lips this time to kill off a snicker before it had even lived. She looked like she had gotten herself caught in some kind of really bad train accident, or maybe an explosion, even. He allowed himself to scoff instead. And here was the best the humans had to offer. It wasn't so much disappointing as it was a pain to look at. He'd never expected much from the poor humans to begin with, but this was almost to the point of ridiculousness. She didn't even look that appetizing, body-wise or soul-wise. She looked too scrawny to be anything meal- or even snack-worthy.

He frowned slightly as he berated himself for going down that road again, almost right after he'd told himself he wasn't going to eat anyone. He still fully intended not to satisfy his lying palate, or at least, the palate he assumed was lying to him. Nirvana was most certainly not hungry, and that was what he held himself to.

When he heard the human lass speak to the Slayer regarding its stunt with the door, Nirvana couldn't hold him his small snicker this time. "Impressive?" he managed to keep his voice at a tiny murmur by some miracle, and mostly to himself. "Not even." Over the top, maybe. Unnecessary, yes. Impressive? Well, to the human female, perhaps. But who couldn't kick down a damn door? He almost sighed as he felt a pang of pity for the human girl. It probably wasn't her fault she was impressed by the juvenile spectacle; she probably just didn't know any better. Humans were notoriously naïve. Nirvana supposed it was duly appropriate, though. After all, they obviously didn't have any concept themselves of what was proper and what was not. That was supported by their Champion's appearance. Where Nirvana came from, there was no way in hell (literally) that any self-respecting Champion would present themselves at a professional occasion in such a beyond-disheveled state. He was learning more and more with every passing moment, Nirvana decided. He'd already gained more evidence than he needed to prove that humans were little more than a glorified pity case.