The other side of the project.

Catalina's smile didn't widen any, but her eyes laughed. Yes, she liked him better than his other, kinder half.

In the next breath, Catalin's glamour dropped, leaving her as a 4'7", petite, green-yellow looking creature with pure black eyes, long claws, and leaves and foliage growing along her legs. Her hair stuck up, taking on a shape more similar to flame. It was the same green color as her skin.

It wasn't so much that Catalina worried what people might think of her pure form, but as a fae, she had gotten used to blending into society. It didn't feel particularly freeing being her true self. Honestly, she didn't feel much different.

She motioned for him to go on. "After you." Even her voice had changed. It was more of an echo in this form. And small, sweet almost.

Catalina watched silently. She had climbed to one of the apartment stairs above in what could only be described as amphibious. The metal was rusted and rickety; she imagined no one had lived there for a long time.

Her claws made sharp sounds on the metal when she secured her grip. Her smile was gone. With such wild eyes, it was hard to pinpoint what exactly she was feeling then. The look was almost predatory, but that might just have been from the lack of irises. She looked predatory like this one a good day, small as she was.

In the darkness of the alleyway, the yellow color of her skin caught any light there was, and the light reflected off it, showcasing foaming and soft it seemed to be. In this form, Catalina thought herself beautiful, but she understood normal people would not. She just looked too different from them.

Even the clothing she had been wearing was different now. It was just a series of leaves, bark, and weeds. It covered her perfectly without being restrictive. It seemed to move in perfect unison with her body. Maybe it was merely a part of her, more like skin than clothes.

Catalina smiled, a smile that showed teeth. Her teeth weren't sharp like some of the fae, but the look still would have likely been uncanny to a human.

Vaguely, Cat said, "I want to bathe in blood."

It was hard to say whether she was being literal or not. The way she watched him as she said this, it seemed like some test.

"No," Catalina said.

She remained where she was, somewhat crouching as if ready to pounce. Catalina was not brutal in her method of killing. She murdered with poison or deceit. She did not mind blood, but she would rather it not be on her hands. It was just easier to remain a secret then.


It was at this time that that a drunk stumbled along the sideward in their direction. He smelled of alcohol and was watching his feet as he swayed. He was singing something out of tune and with a voice fit for a grizzly bear.

He was a stout man, with broad shoulders and an all around thick body. In his right hand, he loosely held a bottle covered in a brown paper bag.

For one seemingly endless moment, the man just stared at his arm, eyes wide. As if this were all some dream. It had been cut at the elbow and was bleeding profusely.

Realizing that what happened really did happen, the man let out a strangled cry. Few people in Manta Carlos were human, and this man was no exception.

As if on cue, his skin fell off him like a shell. What stood in front of Eden then was an eight-foot high troll.

His skin was grey and looked thick. His bottom teeth peeked out from his lips and his eyes were small and shrewd. His intoxication was still apparent by the redness in his gaze. His arm didn't return, so it was evident he had no rejuvenation powers, nor did it heal.

The troll ran at Eden like a football player, one shoulder ready to take the impact and his head low and tucked in toward his chest. His wounded arm trailed behind him, leaking blood as he ran.