Baymour Research Facility

"Dying it a slightly different color to hide it doesn't make you not old." The siren says so matter of factly.

Emory make a noise of frustration, why is this dude so dense? "I'm not old either! And I wouldn't talk if I were you, you- you guppy!" she sputters at him, gesturing at his gills and skin.

"Guppy?!" He gasps, his eyes widening.

"Yes, guppy! With you're flat-!"

"Do not finish that sentence!" He suddenly shouts, his gills fluttering as he breathes hard. Her mouth snaps shut and they glare at each other. For a long moment that's all they do, neither one of them wanting to be the first one to cave into this little match with each other. Finally, he closes his creepy blue and pupiless eyes and the gills on his neck expand.

"It seems we have not made a fair impression of one another-" He begins, opening his eyes to look at her.

She scoffs because he totally started it first. If he hadn't been so creepy on looking at her ugliness than this wouldn't have started out bad. 

He continues, "So I believe you would say I want a truce?" He says it more like a question, like he isn't sure about himself.

"A truce?" Emory asks slowly, her shoulders slouching and her eyebrows furrowing. That is not what she expected him to say. It's not an apology, not that he was going to, or more mean words to continue their little argument, it's an agreement to neutral ground.

He nods his head, pupiless eyes blinking. Her eyebrows narrow as she tries to decipher how sincere he's being. 

"I'll only accept if you can answer a question." she eventually sighs.

"Very well." He nods at her to go on.

"Where am I?" she asks, trying not to cringe when she looks him right in his eyes. She needs to be able to decipher he's telling the truth or not, and she can't do that if shes not looking at him.

"You're in Oklahoma." He answers without hesitation. Her eyes widen, she's in Oklahoma? Her nostrils flare as the need to cry overwhelms her. Why in her Goddesses name of Life is she in Oklahoma? Why is she outside of Arizona, she's never left her home state.

She's very, very far from home, she's three states over than where she's supposed to be.

Oh shit. 

"Can you be more specific?" Emory pushes, her voice is high, and she wonders if he can hear the panic in it, "Like what is this place?" she waves her hand around to the very white room they're in. She pushes the thought of everything away. She can't, she won't let herself focus on that. Emory needs to be in the now. Just because she's not in the presence of two demons anymore, doesn't mean she's safe now. 

She's alone in the world now, and she is in a strangers room, with a stranger, even worse a siren. And she doesn't know anything about what's going on.

He gives a sharp tight lipped smile, one full of malice, "Oh honey." His voice lowers to a strange purr, and goosebumps rise from her skin. And not the good kind, the one that has her hair standing on end because she's in the presence of a true predator. "This is Baymour Research Facilities. Or simplified, Hell." He growls the last word.

Any fear he brought out of her disappears, her eyebrows raise as she stares at him. "Hell?" she asks, her voice dripping with skepticism. She's starting to see a theme here, and she fears his words only confirm it. The demons, the demon hunter - or maybe not since he's technically not a hunter. She honestly doesn't know what to believe. Maybe the demon did kill her back in the covens basement, and this is her strange hell. She wouldn't be surprised, that would make more sense.

"I'd rather watch you find out." He smirks, pulling Emory away from her thoughts. "It's been a terribly boring day, and your about to make it much more entertaining." He smirks, his mouth full of sharp teeth. 

Her entire body shudders with terror, and she immediately steps back. His teeth are nothing like Walker's. This sirens teeth are literal needles, long, thin and sharp, and she wonders how it doesn't hurt him. And then she remembers Walker, his head rolling away from his body from a severed tear through his neck.

Emory's best friend is gone. He protected her till the very end, even when he lost himself to that weird demon glob. And that horrible, horrible demon hunter killed him. Her fists clench tight, she has no one now. No family, no friends, no coven. Just her. Just her curse.

The rage she feels before Rome knocked her out - the filthy bastard - hits her with full force and a sob wreches from her throat. 

"Oh no," The siren mutters, "Don't cry, you're making it awkward." 

Instead of getting offended, Emory laughs, "Are you always like this?" 

"Like what?" He frowns at her, and she thinks that if he did have a nose on his face, he would sneer at her with it. 

Emory hums and pauses, trying to find the right word that would best describe it, "You're very blunt." 

"No. Sharp, see?" He smiles again and points at his needle like teeth. 

"Oh my goddess, just leave." she's exasperated at this point, but the ache in her chest eases a bit.

"No." he crosses his oddly moist green tinged skin over his chest and cocks a hip. Emory ignores him. She marches to the bathroom and closest he door behind her.

What the hell is this dude's problem?