Poorly Executed (Oswald/Salem)

Normally, the petite self-styled Samurai Iris Walker would be wearing her trademark jacket. It seemed matter how hot it got in Death City, she was always wearing that black cloth jacket. In this afternoon twilight, however, the black-haired girl had left it at home in the interests of hiding something. In the place of her standard t-shirt and jacket she was wearing a very loosely-fitting white button-up shirt with black trim, as well as black jeans. As her white tennis shoes let out a slow tempo of steps, Iris found the section she was looking for: First Aid.

The reason for the loose, flowing shirt was because she had some very poor patch work going on her left arm that she was trying her best to not only keep hidden from being spotted but also to keep herself from having unnecessary blood stains on her clothes. Combat was one thing, damage is inevitable and with that comes the penalty of blood, but this...? Iris clenched her teeth with self-loathing anger.

"Can't believe I messed that up...!" she frustratingly muttered under her breath.

The patching on her arm was covering a fairly shallow but long cut. While practicing her Iaido techniques, Iris had managed to truly push herself beyond anything she had previously done, and in a moment of exhaustion she had managed slip up re-sheathing her katana and cut her arm in the motion associated with the action. At the time she hadn't thought much of it, but as it kept stinging the young girl decided to take measures to deal with it. She took a shower first with the intention of bandaging herself after she was done, but then realized she had no first aid supplies in her very small apartment.

And thus, here she was, Looking for the necessary supplies to help heal her self-inflicted wound. The torn piece of white t-shirt currently covering it was barely sticking out of the sleeve of her shirt, and she was really hoping no one would notice it. While scanning over the first aid supplies, a realization came over Iris: She had no idea what would be necessary for this. She stood there, her left hand raised her chin to strike a thinking pose. Some kind of disinfectant, but what exactly? And what kind of bandage would be required? Oh, the problems with being a self-taught martial artist. You make poorly executed maneuvers and find yourself trying to figure stuff out that is far outside of your comfort zone.

Sadly the monster hunter had awoken from sleep that day to find that he had run out of two things that he really needed. The man had got out of his bed, and like usual left his small apartment in order to have an afternoon smoke. As soon as he exited his apartment, and stood on the sidewalk, the man was discouraged when he discovered that he was down to his last cigarette. Oswald decided that he would prepare for a run down to the Drug Store, so that he could grab another pack...but it would be bad for him to forget his inhaler if anything happened. The man walked back in the house, and picked it up from a dresser...It was empty. He wanted to laugh, but now he had a larger incentive to get to the store...Though some may mock him for this. The predicament would have solved itself if he didn't smoke...If that were the case, then he would need neither of these things right now.

Slowly the man made his way to Drug Store...It was darker now than it was before, and Oswald was glad for this. He could actually start his day once it was dark, and it was good that he was getting his supplies now. After making it inside, Oswald walked back to the counter, and discussed with the pharmacist about his prescription. Since coming to Death City, he had become well acquainted with him, and they often had brief conversations about the same thing that Oswald had acknowledged earlier. No smoking would mean no inhaler, but the monster hunter always left feeling the same...One guilty pleasure with one small sacrifice wasn't that hard to bare. After he agreed to refill the prescription, Oswald took it upon himself to go look around the store. Sometimes there were interesting sweets, or something that would catch his attention.

In order to make his way to that section, the hunter began to pass a woman who was standing in the first aid. Being who he was, Oswald quickly looked her over, and noticed a small bit of torn t-shirt that was sticking out of her shirt. It wasn't very hard for the man to piece two, and two together... While this wasn't a normal assumption to make, he noticed something about the girl that he saw in himself when he woke up in the morning...Or in his younger partner Drake when he trained. This woman probably followed the Path of the Warrior...If she wasn't simply a student. Most likely a martial artist...but Oswald didn't know enough about that to make those types of assumptions. "Training accident...? You need to keep it moist, and clean it...but don't use rubbing alcohol, or peroxide...That actually irritates the wound, and makes it take longer to heal...Just water, and soap."

Oswald didn't want to bother her if his assumption was wrong, but he also didn't want to miss out on the chance to help another person. Especially a person who had such a strong, and appealing demeanor. She had the aura of a warrior. "I'm Oswald von Huntcraze. Don't take this the wrong way...but I'm assuming that you fight for the same things I do. The same things I fight."

Iris almost wanted to smack her own forehead. She was trying to hide the poorly implemented bandage with her shirt, so why would she raise that arm up?! It would seem that old habits cannot be suppressed so easily. There was an outward expression of frustration on the young Samurai's face, even though she was actually touched that someone took the time to notice her predicament. She shook her head a couple of times very quickly to clear the expression and then nodded to the very pale man before her. As she analyzed the man with her gray eyes, her expression was very neutral, trying not to give away anything she might be thinking.

"What kind of a name is Huntcraze...? I think he might actually be more pale than me, too... Still, he is offering advice on this. It's really creepy that he was able to pick up on why I'm here, right down to the reason for it..." she thought to herself, running over everything her mind was trying to process about his man. There was a few moments of silence between Oswald's introduction and when Iris finally decided to speak up. "Iris Walker. ... You fight evil creatures as well?" she asked in her quiet, raspy voice.

Iris's gaze narrowed as she asked the question. This man looked extremely dangerous, and it was likely that last name was self-appointed. What was needed in this situation was caution. The man seemed sincere but if he was this astute in his observations then he had the mind of a fighter. The question that really mattered here, however, was what side of the fight he was on.

The man looked at her, and then scratched his chin. This woman in front of him seemed to understand what he was talking about, so that was a good sign...but he couldn't determine whether or not he could trust her entirely, yet. When it came down to people like them, it was excessively difficult to determine where their allegiance was. It was difficult, until there was a blade protruding from your stomach. With the question that he had posed, he was well aware that she could be using her question to bait him...Being an evil creature herself, or perhaps just working for one. While it was true that he had a good feeling about her, he also had enough experience to know that looks are never exactly as they seem. Leonardo Montinegro was a decent example of that, and the Sorcerer had proven that it was nigh impossible to really understand how someone was on the inside, without knowing them for a while. Even then you couldn't be certain.

"Good, and evil isn't set in stone." Oswald figured that this was the proper response, and then put out his hand with an attempt to imply that he wanted to see her arm. While it was true that he couldn't necessarily trust her, it was also the proper thing to try, and help someone in need. Though this girl might be stubborn, and avoid accepting his help. At this point in time the man realized that he wanted to get his cigarettes, and he hoped that if he could help her then she wouldn't mind waiting for him to finish with his purchases.

" I'm sure that you think that it's strange for me to be so direct, Iris. I understand completely...but I'd like to help you in any way that I can. Helping your wound is already placing itself on my list of priorities, and I'd like to have the opportunity to inspect it." After this the man, looked down the aisle, and then scratched his chin again."Though...I'd like to finish my purchases as well."

It was a cautious answer. The kind that she would give if asked the same question. So many people turn out to be more evil than any Kishin and claim to be on the side of justice. It's not only a cautious answer but a truthful one. This man has clearly been around. As he reached his hand out, Iris twitched and started to take a step back, but from the gesture she could tell it was a motion asking to show her wound to him. Iris glanced back and forth a couple of times in a nervous fashion, and before she decide what to do, Oswald made his intentions a bit more clear.

He wanted to help. Someone that could help her...? Father Kotomine might have helped resolve her self-doubt, but she hadn't seen the young priest since their initial meeting and couldn't rely on him as an ally. And ally... is that what she really wanted, or did she just want someone she could consistently consider a friend in this City? Her father certainly would be wary of a friend who was clearly older than her, and that thought made her slightly uncomfortable.

Kimbel "Phantom" Walker was capable of being just that: a phantom. He had years of service as a Navy SEAL, where his infiltration capabilities earned his nickname among his fellow team members. When Iris was born, he retired from the SEALs and took up a job opening at the Kaneko Corporation as their chief of security, where his reputation was more than enough to intimidate any potential illegal activities in their premises. Iris's tomboyish nature was fueled by her father, but he was less than pleased with the life she had chosen for herself. He acknowledged her need for it, but didn't like it one bit. It may not have been the fighting so much as not belonging to an organized force, like a military. Maybe by making some allies... no, some friends, Iris could show her father that she isn't being stupid about this. Iris nodded her head at Oswald once, though realized he had turned his head the other direction, requiring her to speak up again.

"All right..." she said, still as quiet as before. She grabbed a pack of gauze pads and a bandage roll from the shelf in front of her and was ready to follow Oswald.

The girl didn't seem to give him as much trouble as he thought she would. The moment that she said responded to him, he turned back to her, and nodded as he walked forward to the counter. The man the purchased his cigarettes, and bit his lip in anticipation. He truly needed these things right now, but it was obvious that they weren't necessarily his just yet...The man had to finish with Ms. Walker before he would be able to smoke. While he didn't know what her personal preference was, he himself never liked to smoke when it caused the discomfort of another person, so he would wait until he was alone. You could never be entirely sure when somebody had escaped the addiction themselves, or if they simply found it intolerable.

"Nasty habit, right? Though I don't mind it so much...It's soothing for the most part. No one really thought it was that bad when I was growing up..." Oswald was partially speaking to Iris, as he walked back over to her, and partially trying to justify to himself why he continued to smoke. The monster hunter figured that he should try to make a friend, as well as help her...Considering the fact that the only person he associated with now was a Shibusen student. Breaking the ice would certainly be better now...Considering the fact that she may end up back at his apartment, which was already awkward enough...Not knowing anything about her would make the situation much less desirable.

"Who trained you exactly, Iris? Or...Are you still in training? I suppose that everyone still has things to learn..." Oswald trailed off for a moment, and then shook the pack of cigarettes in his hand. It wasn't like him to be so nervous, but he really wanted to smoke. He put the cigarettes in his pocket so that he wouldn't be bothered by them anymore.

He's a smoker. Lovely. That wasn't going to set will with Iris at all, seeing as she has enough problems with her throat without clouds of toxic materials being puffed out around her. Her black hair shook with her head a couple of times while Oswald's back was turned, showing her disapproval but at the same time really not wanting him to see it. Help was hard to come by out here, so she was willing to hear him out despite having a habit that she didn't agree with. He didn't really seem too sure of it himself, acknowledging that it was a nasty habit then immediately trying to justify it. He smoked to relieve stress from the sounds of it, and Iris knew a few people like that. In her mind smoking couldn't be justified. She'd accept that other people smoked, just as long as they didn't do it around her.

Then the question came about her training. How the hell does she answer that? Does she give the laughable explanation that she taught herself to fight by trying to mimic things that she watched Samurai-styled characters do in TV shows and movies? Does she mention her father's military experience? Not that he ever taught her anything about fighting. He always concentrated on stealthy takedowns rather than a stand-up fight, something Iris was awful at. Any explanation she was thinking of right now would likely be laughable to an adult fighter. She lowered her head, not sure how to respond as her hair hid her gray eyes. The silence lingered for nearly a minute before she finally coughed it up.

"... I'm self-taught. I'm training myself in Iaido, if you've heard of it." she spoke nervously, not being sure how it would be taken, and as a result of that nervousness she didn't raise her head as she said it.