Danger? I hope so.

Green eyes scanned the area, a bored look on the male's face, the corners of his mouth turned downward into a small frown. Well, this place didn't seem too scary. Hopefully it would be better than forbidden; in fact, he was sure it would be, seeing as how his alternate personality had decided to get out of there before anything exciting could happen. Perhaps the mutants that were supposed to live here would make an appearance.

Tristan shook his head, moving his black hair out of his face so he could see more clearly. Dark red wings folded neatly upon his back as his hands found their way to the pockets of his black pants, and he started walking through this wasteland — well, it was a wasteland in his opinion, at least.

Can we go back to the school? Please? I don't exactly want us getting killed! Damien's voice shook as he spoke, knowing his other side would get angry with him for saying anything.

"Shut it," the seventeen-year-old said, and to anyone that may have been watching, it would have looked as if he was talking to himself. "While I'm on the outside, I'll do as I please... and right now, I need some danger to brighten up my day. If it gets boring, you little coward, you can be on the outside again."

The boy on the inside who wasn't visible at the moment sighed quietly in agreement, and decided to say nothing more.

As the young man continued walking, the corners of his lips turned up into a smirk when he saw the fighting. Even if he wasn't involved in it, he had always loved watching violence. Damien, on the other hand, had always been one for peace. The original part of their soul had never liked fighting, and had never liked to see people turn to fighting to solve their problems.

Damien couldn't keep his mouth shut when he noticed the violence. He wasn't on the outside, but he could still see and hear what was going on. He didn't even bother using English; he went into French, his and Tristan's original language. Tristan! AIDEZ-LE! NE VOUS TENEZ PAS JUSTE DEBOUT ICI ET LA MONTRE!! he yelled. He didn't understand how his other side could just watch this...

"Why should I help the fellow? He seems to be able to take their hits. Plus, such things amuse me... you should know this, Damien," Tristan said.

Parfait! Si vous n'aiderez pas, être impliqués! Recevez leur attention, n'importe quoi! S'il vous plaît!

The green-eyed male rolled his eyes. "Fine, if I must." With that said, he decided getting involved couldn't be that bad. Maybe he could get into the fight as well. If they were beating up this other unfortunate boy for the colors he wore, then they surely would do something because of his wings. His wings were maroon colored, after all, and further more, it wasn't even that normal for people to have wings.

Tristan walked over to the group, watching them with an emotionless look on his face, his smirk having disappeared a while ago. When the man with the brass knuckles starting hitting Fenris in the stomach, the black-haired boy shook his head, sighing. "Foolish messieurs..." he said, his French accent thick, just like it always was. "Yes, go on, fight the poor, defenseless boy. Because really, there's nothing stranger than colors, right?" After saying this, he spread his wings, unafraid of what they might do to him; in fact, he was excited to see whether or not they would ignore him. "He's done nothing to you, now has he? It isn't my place to get involved, I realize this, and I don't care for the one your beating up in the least. But honestly, are you really so savage as to beat someone without a good reason?"

Tristan sighed upon hearing what Fenris said to him, but didn't respond. He merely kept his green eyes on all the people, waiting for their reactions. His wings twitched and he began to smirk again as they began to circle him now. Good, a chance to fight himself now. He hadn't had a good fight in so long, hopefully these people wouldn't disappoint.

As the one was about to strike him, Tristan readied himself, surprised Damien was being so quiet. He thought nothing of it, though, and was ready to unsheathe his sword if he needed it. It seemed that none of these people had actual weapons, so he wouldn't use his sword unless and until it was needed.

"however; this is no reason for you folks to attack him...."

"You needn't worry about me," he said. "I, at least, know how to fight and when to do so. Now why aren't you running away while these people are occupied? Idiot. Fine, whatever. Get yourself killed."

"You do not understand then red wings... I was given a gift by god and if I am to die then let it be but I do not wish for anyone to die here today so I must take the only action left..."

Red wings? Well, there was a new name. His left eye twitched a bit in annoyance upon being called something other than his name, but shrugged it off, deciding that it didn't matter. He cared little, if anything at all, for him having a 'gift from god' and wanting no one here to die. "Oh, whatever," Tristan said.

The young man watched with an annoyed look in his eyes at what Fenris was doing. He was confused, seeing as how he didn't know his power and such (nor did he care), but also quite angered by the fact that this other male wanted to do everything by himself. Once the two were separated from the more violent people, the seventeen-year-old finally let out a frustrated sigh. "Do you like taking away others fun? In case you hadn't realized, I kind of wanted to fight, and it was actually kind of amusing watching you get beaten."

Tristan, don't say such things! Damien scolded quietly, knowing that he was going to get yelled at for saying that.

The male's hands went to the sides of his head, covering his ears. "Shut it, Damien! You know I'll say and do what I please," he hissed, knowing he had said that loudly enough for others to hear. Too bad, though, if others thought he was crazy; he was sick of sharing this body. The two couldn't be separated though, unfortunately.

He sighed and kicked the ground beneath his foot, but returned his hands to his pockets when Damien went silent. He bit the inside of his lip, looking from the people that had been violent to Fenris.

".... If you like seeing me getting beaten so much why not do it yourself; better yet use your sword if you like...."

The boy raised an eyebrow. "It would be my pleasure... though the fact that you're willing bothers me somewhat..." He hesitated, seeing Fenris's smirk now. Alright, something was officially wrong if this kid was willing to be beaten and was smirking about it. "What? Do you enjoy pain or something? Is that why you're smirking?"

Don't you even dare try and hurt him, Tristan. I'll take control if you do. I'm not just going to watch while you try and harm someone...

At this, Tristan scowled, and again kicked the ground beneath his foot. "And even if I did hurt you, I would literally lose control of this body, which I really don't want. So, unfortunately, you won't get beaten up again. Sorry."