Didn't your parents tell you not to talk to strangers?

Vincenzo woke up... somewhere.

It was pretty standard these days. He would sleep, Algrogath would take over, and he would wake up like bloody hell, not at all rested, with his body aching in so many ways he couldn't even count them. Today, he woke up someplace with a lot of dirt. The dark blurry edges of his vision suggested that it was dark, so night or the afternoon. Vincenzo pushed himself sideways so he was lying on his back, bumping onto branches and rocks. It took him a bit before he realized he was deep inside the heart of the city park.

He probably didn't look good, what with dirt staining his clothes and his skin deathly pale from pain, exhaustion and hunger. He didn't feel good either. He felt his neck with the back of his hand and noticed he was getting the early signs of a fever. That was a bad sign. The entirety of this situation was terrible, but he didn't have much choice other than to put up with it. That was how it worked. In the dark edges of his mind, he resented people that had it way too easy — people with friends and emotional connections that were there when they needed them. Those people never learned how to grow, he thought. They were weak. Dependent. They cried about every little thing that happened to them, and that was why they deserved to get hurt.

It took all of Vincenzo's willpower to lean against the base of a tree trunk. He couldn't die, but god, this was the opposite of better, and he was too damn proud to contact the hospital or something. He didn't need it, anyway. He just needed to catch his breath, and push came to shove, pick up a cab around the corner. That was all.

There was glamour around Vincenzo's neck that disguised any signs of oddity in his appearance. The monster eye was replaced with a matching bright purple eye, the monster claw into a regular arm, and the patches of black gunk pouring out of his clothes looked like normal skin instead. By all means, Vincenzo looked like your run-of-the-mill pretty boy, dressed vaguely like a casual gentleman who was unfortunately covered in dirt at the moment. He smiled at her, and it was the sort of smile that reached his eyes. Being a liar has trained him to be convincing.

In truth, he resented this. Helpers and the helped were as bad as predators and prey. It set the powerful person in a pedestal. They got their kicks off being a bigger person. She might not be hurting him, but she was establishing her dominance by being bigger than him. Let her play the angel for now, he thought. He made a mental note to get even some other day.

"It's just a fever," he said softly, in a sweet, airy tone. He reached out to grip her hand. "My powers send me to unfortunate locations when I'm asleep and I, ah, think I'm starting to get a fever. Can you help me back to my place? I think I just need proper bed rest."

Vincenzo, as much as he hated to admit it, weighed almost nothing despite his imposing height. The process of getting on his feet was painful, but less so when he was finally standing straight. He gripped her shoulder for a few seconds, closed his eyes as his mind rung in loud, uncomfortable tones, and re-opened them when that was done and over with. He was suddenly reminded of how much he hated this.

"Thank you for the offer. You're an angel out of heaven. But I already have medicine in my house." Despite the pain, there was still room for emotional manipulation. He smiled meekly. "I... think I can handle reaching the medicine box at the top shelf. Maybe. I might also fall over the wooden table again, but live and learn, right?"

He started walking to the direction of the corner street where the cabs were, practically wobbling in his step. He considered the question for a moment. Well, he supposed telling the truth wouldn't hurt. Annoying women found the helplessness and humiliation of it to be sad and endearing. "When I'm asleep, an Eldritch Abomination takes over my body and does whatever he wants with it. It's... as ridiculous as it sounds. He doesn't understand exhaustion very well, so after he runs around and plays with it, I wake up injured at unknown places. I'm just glad I'm still in a relatively busy place at the city, you know?"

"Vincenzo Maria Fontana," he said with a hint of pride in his name. He might hate his family, but the name Fontana was famous in many wealthy and magical circles. Vincenzo was the rightful heir of a sizable mansion, hundreds of acres of land and many farms in Italy. Nobody had known about his murders other than the whispers of ungrateful servants. "Please, call me Vincenzo."

As soon as they got to the cabs, Vincenzo offered Mochi his hand like a prince leading a princess into a carriage and stepped inside. "Residential Area, Street Beta, 12-A," he told the cab driver. He pulled out his wallet from his coat and saw... that all his paper money was gone. Shit. There was also a ridiculous number of toothsie rolls in his pocket. He rubbed his face. "I don't suppose you take debit or credit, or even a stack of toothsie rolls?"

This girl was such an angel. He had to admit that much. He wanted nothing but to clip her wings with a pair of scissors and leave her in the dirt, but he could wait. There was a right time for things, and he could wait for it like a viper in the grass.

For now, he could be as pleasant as his appearance suggested. The car made its way through the city streets and into the residential area. He smiled at her sheepishly.

"Thank you, angel. You're too good to me." He held her hand gratefully. He didn't stop holding her hand. "I don't have a sweet tooth. I'm afraid it's that cursed Eldritch again. I don't know what kind of shenanigans it's been up to, but I swear it exists to torment me. You are a futakuchi-onna, yes? Does your hair want these tootsie rolls?"

His eyes were fond as he looked at her. "Tell me about yourself, Mochi. I'd like to know you a little better. It's so rare to find good people these days, and it looks like I lucked out."