Those with Eyes.

The city in the nighttime was just as big of a bustle as it was in the day. Across the city's parkways walked a special individual, he looked normal on the outside, aside from ambiguous species, but for those who could feel magic energies, something very odd stirred within him, not demonic, not angelic, but still strange... He twirled a butterfly knife in hand, the figure was a bit thin, wire-frame glasses with tinted lenses, a small bandanna masking his face entirely and his deep, navy blue hoodie matching his faded jeans and his casual tennis shoes... He was humming, not to anything in particular, changing beats ever so often... He stopped, and let the knife remain out, there was no one out at this time, or was there?

Sleek and silent he was. Calmly stepping along the cobble of the paths was one that almost looked like a dragon. But not quite at the same time, mostly not with it's 'skin' textured like stone, extremely subtle cracks on it's surface. All his colors honestly were grays and black with the exception of those red wings on his back. And the red in his clothes but that was not important. He just walked with his black hair tied back, silently, eyes closed. Yet each step he took, he damm well know where he was stepping.

The ambiguous character, still standing straight up, looked over his shoulder, a glowing yellow haze over his eyes, which faded shortly after looking. He chuckled a bit, and asked the stranger as he turned around, flipping the butterfly knife back into his pocket...

"Ain't it past most'a them bedtimes, stranga? Keheheheh..."

He was old, and clearly his years being in his prime were passed him...


"I ain't had'a good conversation in a while, what brings ya?"

The dragony thing as paused in his tracks. Finned ears on his head twitching as the other approached. Listening to his steps and finally, his voice. "If you are 5 it is indeed past your bedtime. Considering how most don't have a bedtime at all." He started, standing still as could be with his eyes still closed shut. "So with that, your words have no real points to them, nor does the question make sense."

A gently move of the neck to produce a small crack, much like how one could make their neck pop. Because dang that feels good. Right now there was two things going through the gargoyle's mind. The first being, wow this is such an  edgy guy, what a bad ass oh no. The second was more along the lines of 'whatever'.

"What brings me here is what brings any other to the park. Be it a need to just walk, relax or to view the bits and pieces of nature this place has to offer."

The voice of the gray mobian so far had been so smooth, warm and pleasant to listen to, but it suddenly got quite a bit more straight and to the point harsh. "What about you?"

"Relax ya'self, strangah. Was just'a joke."

He turned around, now facing the 'Dragony thing'. He was rather thin, his hands and feet somewhat small to be a Mobian's, but no human would stray this far. What was he? It wasn't clear, but he continued talking, his glasses hiding his eyes as the shadow of the hood hid the rest of his face... That energy was slowly building now, it felt off, and would distort even the thought of it if thought of for too long. As if it held some otherworldly power...

"'m out 'ere 'cause I... Ya won't believe me when I say it, but..."

He pointed to his head, tapping his temple...

"I 'ad a glimpse in the futah that I'd see some'n 'ere. I'd talk 'n 'ave a good time makin' a friend, 'r an enemy, who knows? I didn' see pas' that."

The gargoyles eyes were still closed, talk about rude! Had not once opened them up to look. Not a glance or anything alike at the one standing before him. Just words it seemed the gray mobian gave to him. Honestly, it seemed to not bother him at all that he felt that air around him. Since he had felt so much worse through out his years, mostly the past year. God that was a train wreck.

"I Presume something a normal person would have that you lack. Else the balance sucks with that power." He spoke rather bluntly, resting both hands behind his back, just underneath his wings which gently stretched and flexed to ensure that they would not get stiff in a same position.

"Sometimes it does. Other times it don't. Them visions ain't definite, pal, I can change'm by actin', an' thus another futah is made."

The stranger paced a bit... Flipping the knife back out, twirling it and then putting it back to it's closed position, repeating the opening with a new set of movements, one question was clear. Why was he doing this?

"But strangah, tell me 'bout you now, I told'ja about me."

Calm as could be he stood there as he listened to the odd figured. His own ears making the smallest of twitches with each of the others words. It at least was a clear indication that the gray gargoyle was listening. because honestly besides those tiny ear movements, he seemed as disinterested as could be, arms behind his back, eyes remaining closed still, even now.

And then he spoke, but most likely not what the other wanted to hear. "Could you please stop playing with your knife? The sound is infuriating." He said in a rather 'matter of fact' way.

Straightening out his back slightly before he spoke again. "I'm too dull of a person to truly speak about myself. Because most I could say is that I am made of stone. That's it, what a big twist." A flick of his fingers was given against his own arm, no fleshy sound. Indeed he was speaking the truth. "Now I would have told more about myself if you hadn't just said what your power was and what your saw with it."

"A'ight strangah, I'll put it away."

He chuckled, with that, the knife went back to his pocket, after being twirled a bit more. The being didn't seem normally mobian, but humans were heavily discriminated upon, or so the word was. So he couldn't be either...

"Again, strangah, a'ight... I undastahn that you don' wanna talk to me, if ya don' say so 'n just keep walkin'."