[HappyHappyHierophant]

Her heart had been broken. She had been in love, whether blessing or curse; though surely curse in her case, and had been utterly rejected; humiliated even. And that's what she thought of as she picked up her tray of scones, each shaped perfectly into a heart, with deep red strawberry marmalade richly over it, and threw them toward the chickens, for not one boy in the village had called on her. And she was ghost white, every last part of her, there was no pigment whatsoever in her body. In a place where there was so little color; she had even less. She hated the slums. She hated them. A place where everyone hated, everybody was so horribly violent. She longed for someone to take her away.

[Boredum]

Kirale was always part of the Slum's regulars. He, with the wild hair of black and any other colour stretched across his face, was one to be noticed. The young nineteen year old already had a long mass of wild hair, stretching down to his lower back.
The man was, also, a rejection to life. He had been ruined as a boy, and the scars had never quite healed too well. Oh no, I do not speak of physical wounds, but of dangerous mental ones. He had been diagnosed with dissociative identity disorder, mania, and even schizophrenia. Kirale was a sick one indeed.
Enough with the ramble. Let's get on with the story.

The Slums were a terrible place to be, but Kirale loved it all the same. As of now, he had walked literally in a circle, staring up at the sky and whispering words to his own self. The young man sighed, stretching as he passed a pastry shop, barely recognizing a girl standing right outside. If seen, the biolune human would be an extremely odd sight. Rainbow hair, olive skin, and dangerous, multicoloured eyes. What a darling.

[HappyHappyHierophant]

The girl quickly took her multicolored silk cowl and hid her face, only her brilliant blue eyes peeking out of the ochres, and burgundies, and olives. "Hello." She acknowledged the young man. "Would you like to buy some pastries?" she said. Her cowl contrasted with dull colors of the slums, the mud, and the ugly torn-up cobblestone path.

[Boredum]

The young male turned his head, his rainbow eyes glittering. Finally, he paused. "How much for a pastry?" he purred, walking over, his black and rainbow hair running over his pretty eyes. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, withdrawing a few Keystones. He watched light reflect off of them before glancing back at the lass.

"I am Kirale."

[HappyHappyHierophant]

"Well, everybody needs a little pick-me-up in this ditch," laughed Salina. "I'm Salina. First cake's on me. I'll make you pay for it after you buy the second, only 'cause I know you will." Her silk cowl flapped in the breeze.

[Boredum]

Kirale chuckled lightly before pocketing the money. "Sounds fair," he said with a grin. As soon as he smiled, he paused. A frown appeared, and the young man took a step back.
Not now.... His mind raced with homicidal thoughts, only to be abruptly changed with thoughts of... Of, well.. Things that cannot be spoken about.

Finally, Kirale looked back at Salina. "Sorry. Shall we go inside?"

[HappyHappyHierophant]

"NO! ... I mean sure--I guess."

The look on her face flashed through terror, then horror, then disgust. She had seen his face. She feared it. She had seen it on the murderers, before she-- she-- she had killed them back. She was horrified that this charming young man, so normal, yet so charming...