Best Served Cold

It had been around a week since he'd seen him. 'Him' referring to that dark haired jerk he'd encountered far more times than he preferred. His mind had been set on loathing and lamenting in his room, coiled in bed with dark, impure thoughts running through his head.

Unfortunately, thanks to his bravado and enduring the entire event on a foot that wasn't fully healed, he found that it was aching a lot more than usual. And of course, for every moment of pain he found himself pulling through, the more he blamed Leon for it all. Most unfortunate incidents were quickly becoming his fault, albeit indirectly.

But it was Leon's fault. Owen convinced himself that. He could deny it all he wanted, but it was his fault that Jami was in the infirmary. It was his fault for everything. He hadn't had the chance to visit her yet... No, he did have many chances, but he chose to stay here and bemoan his existence. Either way, he still had her necklace, and he didn't plan on giving it back... not just yet.

Owen found himself met with two options - he could either lie here and berate himself on how pathetic he was, and that he couldn't do anything about it. Or he could get off his ass and do something about it. The first seemed much more easier and appealing, but something innate was nagging within him for the second. His fingers clenched the golden chain of the necklace in his pocket. Inspiration struck him.

It was a crazy plan, but damn it, he wasn't about to let Leon get away with the last laugh. Revenge, it was. Sweet, cold revenge. He pulled the Mirror up from beneath his bed - the thing was dusty, he hadn't touched it in months now. He'd been too scared to transform, worried that it might make things worse on his already damaged foot. But he had been walking on it for a few days now, and he deemed it safe enough to transform.

Staring his freakish, lizard-like reflection in the eye, he spoke with a low, clear voice: "Change me." A ripple shook across the back of the hand, like disturbed water. It always started with the extremities. Uncontrollably, it began to clench and unclench, the nails sliding off and turning to claws. The skin was cracking too - break off to reveal a layer of scales beneath.

Then the bones in his fingers began to shift, cracking into place, before it started to move up his arms. He hadn't felt this sensation in so long, and he thought the pain had dulled down, but it hadn't. It was torture.

He could feel a pulling on his face, a searing, almost melting sensation. And he could feel the transformation starting on his feet, and-- oh God. Owen hadn't imagined how it would feel with a broken foot. But this was far worse than anything he could perceive - it felt like it was crushing, deforming twisting. He had to stop it. Now.

A half-morphed hand lashed out to whack the Mirror to one side, where it landed face down on the floor. For a brief moment, everything was completely still. Owen's head was spinning as if he'd just been submerged, and when he looked around, all he could see was dark, shadowy blurs. He breathed, rattled shaky breaths, before his mind finally cleared and he could think again. He hadn’t gone unconscious. That was new. Had he really just interrupted the transformation?

He looked to his hands. They were claw-like alright. But just his hands. By the time it reached his elbows, it was normal, human skin again. He gulped. What did he look like..? Grasping the mirror, he turned it up to see his face.

…He was a freak. One lizard eye and one human eye stared back at him. Half of his face looked like it was melted, his lip pulled right up to his cheek, exposing unruly lizard fangs. His hair was thinning out, and strands were starting to fall before him. His face, his hands, his feet, they were all half-transformed, but everything else was human.

He could’ve sat there and bemoaned… but arrogance surged inside him. So what if he couldn’t do a full transformation. He’d just have to deal with this instead. Despite the protesting of his limbs, he heaved himself to a stand. His broken foot was crooked, yet couldn’t feel as much on it as he would‘ve thought.

Leaving the room, he found that his gait had been reduced to a lumbering, hunched limp, his mind set on only one thing - where the hell was Leon. He found the boy unlikely to be residing indoors - that’s why he made a beeline towards the vestibule, exiting the building into the world outside. The air was cold and biting, obviously still in the thick of Winter. He regretted not bringing more clothing, but he wasn’t about to turn back now. Of course, he had no idea where Leon actually was, so most of his time was spent aimlessly pacing around, searching the cloudy sky for anything winged and black.

It was around then he reached the base of the cliffs - it’s daunting height looming before him. It was where he’d first encountered Leon… and he certainly hoped it would be the last. He was worried. What if Leon really intended to kill him? No. A hand slid into his trouser pocket again, bringing out the necklace to clutch reassuringly in his grasp. He had the necklace, Leon couldn’t touch him.

Breathlessly, he started to trudge up the edge of the ignoring the ache from all over his body. The moment he saw Leon, he was going to give him exactly what he deserved. Payback.

((...Have a picture of roughly what Owen's face looks like now.
[You must be registered and logged in to see this link.] ))

Leon was far too angry with the world to actually want to be a part of it right now. He'd decided it would probably be best, both for him and anyone else he may have encountered, if he just isolated himself. It was what he'd always preferred anyway, before he'd started enjoying himself. He didn't need it. He didn't need anything but the sky and his wings. One could live without other people and material objects. He'd always subscribed to this belief.

Now he flew out over the ocean, actually succeeding in thinking about nothing but the air currents and salty air. He wore his old hoody, not wanting to ruin the new one by giving it holes just yet, and a regular pair of jeans. He wore no scarf today, despite the light snow that was falling. None of the flakes were able to get near him anyway, as they melted once they got close enough to his wings. He wore his over his head in some small effort to preserve it as long as possible. He knew that eventually, like all the others, it would become burned and worn from hanging inbetween his two wings.

Leon glided for a moment, then coasted upwards, flying almost perpendicular to the ocean. Then, he made a wide circle, turning back towards the cliffs, and dropping to gain speed. He was almost even with the flat of the cliff now, but didn't look to see that someone was standing there. He held his arms out directly in front of him, stretching. He looked up when he was about 10 meters from the cliffside and saw the deformity that was Owen Mueller. His eyes immediately darkened at the sight. Was he still carrying that gold necklace?

Leon gave one powerful stroke his dark wings, and brought himself up higher. He continued to rise until he reached the very peak of the cliffs where he landed. Then, he turned to look down at Owen from this post, his wings coming around to stand just behind his shoulders. He didn't say anything, just looked down at the boy, the term being used lightly at this point, with something of an angry look on his face, though it was more controlled than the situation would have granted otherwise.

This was Owen's shtick for now, and for a moment, Leon seriously considered simply flying off to a different location. Deny the kid an opportunity to speak with him. It probably would have been the better choice, especially if Owen was still carrying the necklace, but he saw no harm in sticking around for just a little bit to see what the half-ruckarl had to say. There was no way he could possibly climb up to where Leon was standing now anyway. On top of the world, as it were.

The light snow was a mere annoyance to him. He hated the cold weather, it made him feel so vulnerable. His claws coiled around his forearms for protection, but it did little in terms of warmth. All the while, he still clung onto the necklace, his grip tight, unwilling to ever let it go. After all, he believed his life depended on that thing.

Somewhere near, he heard the 'whoosh' of wings, and he looked upon the cliff to see a sickeningly familiar figure. Leon. Owen couldn't believe his luck... or misfortune. Whichever one it was, he wasn't sure yet, but he wasted no time in continuing to haul himself up the cliff. His foot lagged like some dead weight, which only made it more of a bother. But true to Leon's expectations, Owen certainly couldn't make it to the same level Leon was on.

Breathlessly, he hunched over, his knees supporting his hands. He looked up at Leon, eyes squinting. He'd come all this way and he hadn't even prepared a witty, astonishing opening?

Regaining some of his energy, he held up the necklace in plain sight of Leon. "Look!" he choked, his voice strained, but his tone rather... malevolent. "I got the necklace! What're... What're you gonna do now, huh?!" A harsh chuckle escaped as he glared up at him.

Leon watched as the contorted boy tried to climb up the cliffside and laughed at the spectacle. No amount of strength held within half-lizard would outweigh the power of Leon's own wings. He was currently He extended them out to either side and flapped once, lightly, so as not to take off. It was simply a means of giving Owen some window into his current thoughts without actually saying anything.

The tip of the cliff where he stood hardly had room for Leon's own feet. He stood, one foot perched higher than the other, and one hand held onto the cool stone. The other other was placed on his hip in a rather superior fashion. He didn't mind emphasizing his superiority over Owen. Oh, not at all.

Leon kept a bemused expression on his face as Owen held the gold up to show him. He'd cling onto that thing for dear life wouldn't he? Evidently, Jami had failed to get it back from him. By some odd string of logic though, Leon wasn't altogether disappointed by it. He shifted his position on the tip of the cliff so both his hands were free. Then, he reached into his hoody pocket and pulled out a pair of gloves. They were just winter gloves, but they'd at least serve protect the skin on his hands from touching any gold, though he'd most likely still feel from it. He pulled them on over his hands.

Now, the only skin that was really showing was his face and neck, less with his hood up. He looked back down at Owen. Already his eyes appeared black, but the slightest hint of brown in them indicated that Saren wanted something to come of this but didn't want to have anything to do with it personally. That was just fine with Leon. "You still think that give's you some kind of hold over me." He laughed harshly at the idiocy.

Leon kicked off of the cliff's tip and allowed wings to carry him into the air. He flew downwards, towards Owen, making like he was going to attack, but at the last second he pulled up so he sailed directly over him, out of reach. What Leon was hoping, was that Owen would get caught up in his slipstream and lose balance. Balance was, after all, a crucial part of being at a cliff. Leon would know. He'd been around cliffs all his life.

Oh, that laugh. Owen thought it would be a dull memory by now, but the sound was like nails grinding a chalkboard to his ears. The urge to throttle something - anything, but preferably Leon - quickly rose within him. Old habits die hard.

And his posture - Owen wanted nothing more than to pick up a few rocks and stone him done. But, he'd tried that before, and it had reaped little success. It was around that time Owen realised that he didn't really have strategy. He'd wandered out here assuming that Leon would be more submissive in the threatening face of gold, and that Owen would easily be able to overpower him, regardless of his rather weak physique. It was something he was shortly coming to regret.

He squinted (although, his sight was rather sub-par and double-visioned, seeing as he now possessed the eyes of two different species), and he recognised... gloves? He thought gloves were going to save him? Owen couldn't actually be certain about it, but he'd put so much faith into the 'gold' idea that he wasn't about to abandon.

Another laugh. Owen scowled darkly - he, for one, wasn't taking this as a joke. "Yeah, it is," he retorted, before beginning to climb up again, albeit tiredly. Man, he was beat and he hadn't even started yet.

Evidently, it was Leon who made the first move. At first, Owen was like a deer caught in headlights, what to do, what to do?! Again, his instincts immediately retreated towards the necklace, to which he held up again, cringing defensively. However, when it was a gust of wind that rushed passed him instead, it caught Owen off guard. He teetered dangerously, before finally striking out his good foot and regaining his balance in time.

He turned around, facing Leon with fury boiling in his eyes. "Yeah, don't think you can just fly away like that!" he threatened... although they probably were rather empty threats, since Owen himself didn't have any plans. "Stop flying around like.. some sorta chicken! You're not scared, are you?" He continued to wave the necklace in his secure hold.

Leon laughed again as Owen seemed to be trying to hide behind the necklace. He clenched his hand into a fist and opened it again, wondering how effective the gloves would be in preventing a gold-scar. Admittedly, it wasn't really a practiced thing, but he still smiled darkly down at Owen.

"Why are you even here? Looking for a repeat of last time?" His eyes flicked to the ocean to gesture to it. "The water's got to be cold this time of year." He gave another chuckle, deciding he'd toy with Owen for the moment.

Leon shrugged, noting just about high Owen's already climbed. "I can fly wherever I want. That's what my wings are for. For instance, I could fly all the way back up to the tip again," he turned in the air, aiming himself downwards, then landed gracefully down on the flat area of the cliffs where Owen had initially been standing. "Or I could come back down this way. That's the beauty of flight."

He looked at Owen, hands on his hips and head tilted as if to ask what he was still doing up there. He extended his wings high above his head, poised to take off once again, but remained where he was.

At the reminder of the happenings at the cliffs, he followed his gaze towards the ocean, his eyes narrowing disdainfully. Owen didn't need a reminder to know that this was the setting of the last unfortunate incident, he never did forget these things. It didn't fail to make him seethe though - he did not intend a repeat. "I ain't gonna be caught by no dumb spell this time!" he retorted back.

He narrowed his eyes as Leon bragged. Was he trying to make him jealous? Just because he could fly? He tried to suppress the pang that he did feel though. Whatever. Owen still had the necklace, it didn't matter if he couldn't fly.

As he landed, he wasted no time in storming, albeit extremely ungracefully down the cliff towards him. His foot still ached terribly, but it was a feeling he was learning to ignore. "I don't care," he began, his voice raised to a yell, "About your dumb wings! Or your dumb flying!

His outstretched arm with the necklace waved towards Leon. "I'm just here for a bit of revenge. You gotta problem with that?" He sneered threateningly towards Leon, the pulling of his twisting lips making his face seem all the more deformed.

A smirk plays across Leon's lips as the half-boy runs towards him. He finds Owen's promise not to repeat his mistake amusing, and he decided he may put it to the test.

Leon waits until He holds a hand down in front of him, fingers splayed, but keeps his eyes on Owen. Hoping Saren's extra energy will allow him to complete the spell without touching his hand to the ground, he begins casting the same one he'd done at the cliffs before. The gate through matter spell. He mutters the spell under his breath in order to make it more effective. He's saying it loud enough that Owen may be able to hear, but quiet enough that he wouldn't be able to make out the Latin words.

A black lattice blossoms on the stone beneath him, it widens gradually with each repetition of the spell until its nearly two meters out, but remains solid. He continues to repeat the spell, in order to keep it solid, not wanting it to shrink just yet.

Leon shakes his wings out to either side of him, then raises them again, preparing to take off once he stops uttering the spell. He keeps a bemused smile on his face.

His odd eyes squint again at Leon's actions. He thought the boy was going to take off again, so Owen was planning to run to him before he did... but he seemed to be doing something else instead. Owen couldn't decipher just what that he was planning... until he saw a painfully familiar lattice appearing beneath him.

As realisation lit up in his usually inanimate eyes, Owen's staggering gait immediately stumbled to a halt, before retreating back a few steps, far out of reach. Did Leon really think he'd fall for that again? Just what sort of idiot did he take him for? He let out an audible huff, and not just because he was winded. There was simply no way he'd easily allow himself to fall for things like that again.

He turned his glance to Leon. "You planning on flying away again?" he questioned harshly. "Running away from our little showdown?" He raised both of his arms in a taunting gesture. "Don't bother! Y'know I'm just gonna find you again." He wasn't sure how far yelling taunts was going to get him, but for now, it was one of his only resorts. He at least hoped it would rile the demon to coming a closer distance. Unfortunately, it only seemed to be aggravating his own mood instead.

His brows were furrowed, and his claws would occasionally clench, gripping the necklace tightly. If he didn't approach him, Owen knew that he would have to act first.

Leon's smile widened a bit, but he didn't stop saying his spell long enough to reply to it. He'd fly whenever he wanted and wherever. If he didn't want to be found, he wouldn't. It was as simple as that. Leon's passion for flight outweighed Owen's passion for revenge, if the boy was even capable of any kind of passion.

But no, he wasn't planning on flying away. He closed his eyes a moment, concentrating. He was calling on his methods to bring him anger, to remind him of the things Owen had said at the party, to remind him why Leon wanted Owen dead. This wasn't something he should ever do. He knew it, but he needed something to compel him to get in close and get that necklace out of the picture. His growing anger was audible in his voice as he continued to repeat the gate through matter spell. His free hand clenched into a fist and he opened his eyes again, all humor aside.

Though he hated to admit it, the use of his methods to make him angrier was a direct call for Saren's help. A pair of words floated into his and though he didn't know their or what effect they'd hold, he already decided he'd use them.

Finally, Leon stopped uttering the spell, and the ground under the lattice was no longer solid. Given the size of the lattice, he probably had about 2 minutes before it closed entirely, maybe less. He lifted himself into the air and rushed towards Owen in two flaps of his, dropping just over his head. As he dropped, Leon wasted no time in aiming a kick at Owens right shoulder, remaining in the air as a means of confusing him with the aerial assault. Simultaneously, he made to grab for Owen's right wrist, the hand holding the gold necklace, hoping the kick would throw him off enough for his wrist to come right up to him. His other hand loitered at the ready, instinct taking over in preparation for the new spell.

Leon's barely audible muttering was starting to annoy Owen, if for the fact that he couldn't hear what he was saying. He was more than ready to just hurl the necklace at his face and scar that stupid smile right off. But he knew not to. He may have been unwitting, but he wasn't dumb enough to chuck away his only defence mechanism.

But... there seemed to be a notable change in Leon, and it wasn't a pleasant one. Was he really going to flee? There wasn't much Owen could do but wait to see what happened, his gaze mistrusting.

When he launched himself into the air, Owen instinctively raised his arms to shield himself with. His eyes still kept a lookout for the dark-haired boy, watching his actions. But he was quick, and his movements weren't too easy to track with rather inefficient eyesight.

A foot slammed into his shoulder, causing him to stumble backwards unsteadily, unable to stop the panicked flail of his arms. He probably would've fell if it weren't for the hand that latched onto his wrist. At first he confused it for rescue, but upon remembering who he was dealing with, he managed to regain a somewhat lopsided balance. His right foot didn't seem to want to support much weight at all.

It took him a moment to realise that his necklace was in danger, and his hand clenched even more tightly onto it. It was vice-like - it would not be an easy task prying it from his hold. With an angered growl echoing from his throat, he threw up his other hand to try and pry Leon's off his wrist. His attention seem glued to protecting the necklace, he didn't seem to be paying much heed to what Leon was doing.

Leon used his wings to help him move, pulling them in close so they weren't quite so cumbersome. He turned in the air, moving to bring his other foot hard across Owen's face and put him in a better position to grab the necklace. His wings move dangerously close to Owen's figure, and Leon extends them a bit more. He absolutely could not allow the gold to touch his wings.

This train of thought conjured up memories of Feign, and the time she'd attacked his wing with gold. The scar was still there, still crippled him in his flight. He absolutely would not allow that to happen again. The memories sparked a new anger in him. An anger he didn't need to trick himself into feeling. He caught a glimpse of Owen's hand on his own, and the words floated into his mind again.

Leon focused his energy into his hands, specifically the tips of his fingers. "Manibus Luporum!" What the words meant, he didn't know. In fact, he wasn't even thinking clearly enough to care. The energy at his fingertips burst through cutting through both the fabric of the gloves and through his own skin. A black spike, entirely solid extended from each of his fingertips. Each one was about 3 inches long. Without taking a second to think the spell over he brought his now clawed fingers down in an attempt to slice into the skin on Owen's left hand.

Owen's arm writhed rather helplessly in Leon's hold, trying to jerk free, but unable to find the energy to do so. It was frustrating - Leon was so close, yet at the same time, so far away. There was no way his incapacitated hand nor the necklace could reach him.

The kick across the face caught him by surprise. The foot smashed into his cheekbone, his head snapping to the side with the impact. For a moment, he was disorientated, unable to discern which way was right before he finally managed to regain himself. ...Ow. That hurt. He could feel the side of his face throbbing uncomfortably. Leon wasn't going to get away with that, or so he planned.

He flinched as the wings neared his body - he'd touched them before, although very briefly, but he'd felt their burning effect. Luckily, they didn't make contact.

Hands of wolves! He heard the words echoing clearly in his head. What was that meant to mean? However, his thoughts had little time to linger on it, and he caught sight of the long spikes protruding from his fingertips. Oh no.

His eyes tightly shut as he anticipated the blow, and he tried to pull his left hand out of they. It managed to escape from being severed, but he couldn't evade the blow completely. He felt it immediately - it was like a searing hot, burning sensation, yet at the same time, icy and stinging. He winced, unable to contain the gasp that caught his breath. He dared a glance at his hand, and watched with horror as the bloody freely seeped down it. He couldn't see it clearly, but he could imagine that there were four deep gashes in his hand now. Just great.

Amazingly enough, Owen's grip on the necklace was relentlessly stubborn. He wasn't letting up. Not just yet. His gaze turned to glare Leon in the eye - although his expression poorly concealed his pain, it would show as much hate as he could possibly summon.

Leon pulled his clawed hand back out of Owens flesh as he felt the boy's hand pull away from his own. It was to see blood drip from the solid black spike. He cut off the energy supply to his fingers and surprisingly the solid energy retracted back into his body, rather than dissipating into the air like it normally did. He'd never seen that happen before. The tips of his fingers bled.

Leon wrapped this same hand around the chain of the necklace, immediately feeling the sharp burn of the gold through the fabric of the gloves. He noticed, however, that his wings didn't flare wildly like they would have normally, though he could still feel the energy draining from his body. He released his grip on Owen's wrist and focused some of his energy, with difficulty, into the tips of the finger on his free hand.

"Manibus Luporum!" He repeated the spell, but this time the spikes came out shorter, each one being about an inch in length. The energy wavered slightly, not as tight as it was before. It would burn hotter, but not be quite as effective in tearing. Leon didn't care. He'd hack Owen's hand off entirely if it meant getting that necklace away from him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the gate through matter spell closing.

Leon brought his hand back down onto Owen's, attempting to slice through the skin. As he did, he brought his wings down hard in hopes he'd be able to tear it right out of his hand. The gold seemed to grow hotter in his hand. His own energy was rushing into it, probably burning through the glove. Pretty soon, he'd feel the gold on his skin. He wasn't even sure he remembered what it felt like to touch gold directly. He didn't want to remember.

The left side of his face was still aching, and his left had was still cascading red. It was twinging painfully, but Owen put in his best effort to disregard it. Adrenaline was already coursing through him, numbing the sting. For now, his attention was completely focused on this tussle.

When Leon gripped the necklace, his eyes widened. Was it affecting him?! From where he was observing, nothing was happening, and it baffled him. Was it the gloves? How can something as meagre as gloves halt his plan? His expression was immediate despair, but he tried to shake it off. He'd just have to try it on skin instead.

At the repeat of the spell, he looked up. The claws again. He was not going to let himself get hit this time, lest both of his hands be rendered unusable. Thankfully, the grip on his hand had been released, so he was free to move his arm more.

A rare, unusual sort of plan sprung to Owen's mind, and he didn't have much time to think it over before he put it in action. He didn't want to let go of the necklace nor did he want to be struck, so he summoned all the strength in his arm to hopefully pull the necklace into the path of the incoming claws instead. He didn't know what to expect, but he hoped it would be beneficial.

Leon's clawed hand continued to plummet towards Owen's, but now instead of a hand, there was a length of gold there. One would have expected the necklace to be ripped the black spikes, but as they crossed over the gold, the energy immediately loosened. What wasn't absorbed by the necklace dissipated into the air. All that was left of the set of claws were Leon's bloodied fingers.

His hand, however, kept moving forward and the gold chain of the necklace got caught between his index and middle fingers. Going along with it, Leon closed his fingers around the necklace. It seemed the moment he did, however, his wings began to flare uncontrollably. The solid energy immediately began to loosen. It was easily capable of igniting any flammable material. The gate through matter spell dissipated without having closed all the way. He let out a cry of pain that at first he didn't realize was his own voice.

Leon instantly released the necklace with both hands. The fingers of the glove on his left hand were slit open at the first joints. Under each slit was a red mark that actually gave off a bit of skin-colored smoke. Once the gold was no longer touching his skin, Leon's wings returned to normal and he felt in control of his energy again.

In a ditch effort to get away from the gold, Leon kicked off of Owen's shoulder, pumping his wings to get him moving. At the angle however, he'd just end up landing on his shoulder some feet away.

Owen watched with interest as his had descended, cringing in anticipation. What if it did nothing? What if this gold thing was all just some fluke? Some conspiracy to fool him into believing that he had a chance? However, what he saw wasn't what he expected at all.

He had to shield himself with an arm from the sudden flare of the wings. What was going on?! However, his brief moment of panic vanished as he heard one glorious sound. That cry of pain. A wide grin stretched across his face. That's exactly what he'd been waiting for. Some indication that he was able to hold his own in a fight. Something that told him the gold was actually working.

He tried to keep his balance when Leon kicked off him, although he did teeter backwards. But when he landed not far away, he couldn't help but let out his own laugh - the first laugh that he'd been allowed to have. It was satisfying. "How'd you like me now?!" he spat with a rough, harsh voice, staggering forwards towards him, still clutching what remained of the necklace. What he didn't notice was the small ember that flickered behind his shoulder from the earlier ignition.

Leon extended his wings and gave light flap to help himself up. He kept a watchful eye as he ripped the gloves off his hands, storing them back in his pocket for the time being. He didn't need to see the scar to know what it looked like. A thin line, interrupted here and there by what must have been the fabric of the glove, that flared an angry red. It would flare up just like that over the next few weeks, and then again whenever he sustained an injury to any one of his gold-scars. It wasn't going to go away for as long as he lived, and he intended to live for a very long time.

With a flourish, Leon summoned some energy to his right hand, and applied to the scars on his left. For a moment, his face convulsed in pain. Any gold that had been caught in his skin precipitated out and once it was all gone the effect of the energy on his skin was soothing.

Leon's eyes didn't shift to the fireball currently on Owen's shoulder. He was an not to have noticed it. Leon hoped the black energy burned even hotter on human skin than did on demon skin. He hoped it left a permanent scar, or at least one that would remain for the duration of Owen's short life. And if it didn't, well intended to remedy that.

Leon his foot and placed it over the gold that had fallen out of his skin, stomping it out with his heel like he would a cigarette. His wings arranged themselves in an odd position, one that couldn't possible take him up and into the air. He was seemingly running on instinct now, his body making plans before his mind registered them. Or maybe it was Saren's influence. Either way, he didn't mind it.

Leon extinguished the flames at his right hand and retrieved the gloves once again from his pocket. Some protection from the gold was better than no protection. After putting the gloves on once again, he allowed his left hand to fall at his side, and placed his right on his hip. A malevolent smirk grew on his lips, but the effect was somehow thrown off-kilter by the darkness in his eyes. A stood like this, prepared for his body to take wherever it wanted to, whenever it needed to, and waited for Owen to notice the dark flames eating at his shoulder.

Owen looked expectantly towards Leon as he removed himself from the ground. Wasn't he going to do anything? At least, anything but smirk. That victorious feeling still flowed through Owen's veins, and he wouldn't have been surprised if the demon just turned tail and flew away.

But he didn't. He just seemed to stand there... waiting. Waiting for Owen to strike again, perhaps? He still had the necklace, and nothing was stopping him from adding another scar to Leon's growing collection.

He felt a sort of tingling sensation on his shoulder, but Owen disregarded it. There were more important matters. It was when that tingling turned to something more intense that he turned his head to see what it was.

The fire flowed in his face. He couldn't restrain the horrified shriek that burst from his mouth. The black energy seemed to be growing, and it was starting to spread to the rest of his back. He twisted and lashed, trying to one-handedly pat the flames out, all unsuccessful. He panicked. Finally, he clutched the back of his collar, before pulling the shirt over his head and throwing it to the dirt, where it continued to sizzle. Letting out a frustrated cry, he stomped over it with a lizard foot until the fire dissipated, leaving behind nothing but a rather holey grey shirt.

Heavy breaths left his mouth. Despite being topless, the cold air didn't deter him much at all, which was likely due to the searing hotness he still felt on his back, but it did reveal a faded horizontal scar on his abdomen. That's it. Leon was dead.

Giving him a dark scowl, he surged forward, ready to get close and shove the necklace directly into his face. However, after around two steps, his running faltered as if his leg was failing him, and he collapsed onto his knees. His whole body ached. He couldn't run at all. Even if by some miracle that he did get close, he'd only fly away anyway.

As a reminder, his fingers stroked against the remaining chain of the necklace. He was down, but he wasn't out.

Leon watched in sheer amusement as the half-lizard danced about, trying to extinguish the flames. It was interesting to see his own energy - or mostly his own, anyway - growing without him having to feed it. Of course, he could have extinguished the flame currently consuming Owen's shoulder at any time. He did have that ability.

A rather sinister laugh escaped his lips as the boy stomped the flames out. No doubt he'd feel the burns later, when his adrenaline wore out. He smile extended so his teeth were visible when Owen fell. What? Was that it?

Leon ran a mental checklist of his own energy. With Saren's immortal energy included, it was difficult to tell how much more he could handle. That was the bad part about the whole. So far he'd performed one very large gate through matter spell. The gold, that it had only made actual contact with his skin for no more than a second, had been draining his energy steadily the whole while he had his hands around it. As for the new spell, the first time the energy had actually recycled back into his body, the second time it was lost to the gold. There was no way of knowing how much energy he'd lost to the gold. It mostly depended on quality of the gold.

The gold had sent something of a shock to his system, though. It was that first warning, the one that was supposed to tell him to get the hell of dodge. He felt his wings, almost like an itch, wanting to get into the air, but he stayed where he was. He blinked once and his eyes quickly went dark blue again. It seemed Saren had lost interest.

Leon looked back his left hand, as it suddenly hurt again. He took off the glove, discarding it, and summoned some energy to the hand. His own violet-tinged energy didn't burn as hot as Saren's immortal energy, and therefore did a better job of soothing the scar.

Leon began to stalk toward Owen, slowly. His wings arranged themselves in a more natural position, their plan foiled by Owen's weakness. Leon refused to leave now. He needed to get the gold away from Owen, now more than ever. He stopped about two feet away from the boy. His wings rose momentarily, then situated themselves out to either side of him. They were angled towards Owen, but kept their distance, as though they could feel the heat of the gold even from as far away as they were.

The smiling and the laughing again. Owen honestly considered just throwing himself over the edge of the cliff. It would save Leon the hassle of finishing him off, and Owen wouldn't have to endure the humiliation any more. In a way, it was a win-win, just in the worst way possible.

But even so, he seemed to bereft of energy to even scrape himself from the floor. His right leg had given up on him apparently, and his left hand was still a gouged wreck. Funny that. Both of their left hands were busted up now.

His clawed hand fiddled with the necklace. Yep, it was pretty much unwearable now, at least by girl standards, he believed. Would Jami be mad at him? Well, of course she would. But he also sort of wishfully hoped that she'd be the least bit proud - he'd come so far. He recalled Leon promising to kill him - and he'd either done a lame job of it, or Owen was actually good at not being killed. He really wanted to believe that it was the latter.

He looked up as Leon approached him. A familiar scene played in his mind... his own words echoing in his head. Why don't you just kick me while I'm down? The Halloween ball... the memory of it brought back the reason why he'd wanted to get rid of Leon in the first place. Cold blooded revenge of course.

He looked to the necklace again. If it was ruined anyway, then Jami should certainly have no objections to it being further broken. He brought it to the right side of his jaw, clenching his teeth over it before pulling and snapping the necklace in half - his strengthened lizard teeth made the job slightly easier. Finally, he reared his arm back with one half of the necklace, (the other half still dangling from his jaw) before tossing it towards Leon's face. Despite his slightly off aim, he hoped the close range would make it more difficult to avoid.

Leon caught the necklace in his gloved right hand and promptly squatted close to the ground, keeping an eye one Owen. Now with Saren out of his head he was finding it easier to think straight again. He placed the chain on the stone of the cliff before it could burn through the glove.

Leon extinguished the flames at his left hand now and kept a straight face. He made a big show out of casting the spell. He identified three points, forming a triangle around the gold, with two fingers then allowed his hand to hover over it. It took a lot of concentration, but he managed to manipulate the spell to cycle within the imaginary points, a second later the points he'd identified glowed violet. It seemed to be a lot of work on his part to get his energy to do this, especially with the gold lapping it up, but Leon convinced himself it was worth it.

Finally, he thought the spell in his head, mouthing a random Latin phrase that didn't match up with the one he was thinking. The necklace vanished, seemingly being eaten up by the energy. In reality, though, it was the same spell he'd performed earlier. The gate through matter spell. The necklace hadn't been destroyed, it had simply fallen through the cliff. The extra manipulated energy, however, made it appear like an entirely different spell, and Leon was grateful that Saren's dark energy had hidden the lattice so well before. He wanted Owen to believe that it was as simple for him to destroy gold as this spell appeared.

Actually, it took a lot more energy than Leon let off. The speed at which the gold absorbed the energy surrounding it drained him as much as it if he had touched it. Now, with the gold gone, he no longer had to feed it energy. It was just matter of maintaining the shape.

Leon gave Owen an utterly neutral look, and held out his free, gloved hand, asking for the other half of the necklace. "Quit while you're ahead," he advised, his tone almost sagely. Leon's logic told him that, maybe, if he acknowledged that Owen had indeed been ahead for any length of time, he may actually give him the necklace. His wings still rose instinctively, however, not wanting to trust Owen. He overestimated his intelligence once before.

When Leon's hand caught the necklace instead of his face, Owen's expression fell into despair. Okay, that move had sort of been a last resort, but Leon was too quick in reacting to it. What else could he do now? Not much but hope whatever Leon would do next would be merciful.

He watched without much intervention as Leon disposed of the necklace, not recognising the technique he was using. Just how much was he able to do anyway? And, despite the previous harming of Leon's hand, Owen's confidence of the necklace's power was wavering once again.

As Leon held out an expectant hand, he remembered that the necklace was still dangling from his mouth. He pulling it out, looking it over. He was stubborn, there was no way he'd willingly hand it over. Doing that was just like admitting defeat (despite the fact that he was practically defeated now). He clung to it in his grip, looking over the gloved hand mistrustfully.

He tried to focus on a plan, but his line of thought was constantly being interrupted by signals of pain. The adrenaline was wearing off, and Owen was starting to gather himself again, and the injuries sustained were becoming a lot more prevalent. His expression was distorted with visible discomfort.

Eventually, he arrived at the conclusion that it didn't matter if he handed it over. He could get another one when he was better. Maybe not from Neferure, but someone else might be willing. Yes, this was just one lousy, broken necklace. There was more gold in the world than this.

With a scowl, he unsteadily raised his arm and plunked both his hand and the necklace into the other boy's hand. "It doesn't mean you've won," he rasped ungracefully. "It just means I'm letting you off."

Leon's surprise didn't show on his face as Owen handed him the other half of the necklace. It wasn't that hard really. He didn't understand why Owen thought it was a good idea to piss him off. Though, Owen didn't understand how difficult it was to push Saren out. The thought reminded him of their discussion at the cocktail party, but his methods quickly diverted his attention back to the necklace.

Leon looked at the charm that hung from the broken chain momentarily. It looked to be valuable. Without dwelling on the thought for more than a second, he dropped the chain into the decorated spell. He held on to the charm, however, so the chain simply slipped through. He blocked Owen's view of the charm with his hand, hoping Owen wasn't perceptive enough to notice he hadn't dropped it as well. The spell closed automatically, the gold absorbing the energy required to keep it open. Leon wouldn't have been surprised if the chain had simply gotten stuck somewhere in the middle of the stone rather than going all the way through.

Once again, Leon used his wings to help himself up, superstitiously, slipping the charm into the back pocket of his jeans as he did. He didn't entirely understand the action at the moment. It was probably for some vain reason he didn't care enough to think through at the moment, but he'd realize why he'd chosen to save the charm later.

Leon's eyes returned to the deformity that was Owen, and he fought not to let out a sigh of exasperation. His methods seemed doing a good job of blocking out whatever memory he was trying to avoid at the moment, since he couldn't help feeling a sense of pity towards the boy. He did, however, remember the day in the dining hall. He'd decided he'd make a valiant attempt at using his methods. Well, it seemed to be working.

He closed the distance between himself and Owen. "We'll call it a stalemate." He held a hand out to Owen, offering to help the boy up to his feet. "So what happened to your face?" He wasn't asking in a particularly mean fashion. It was simply out of curiosity. Leon could recall only one instance where he'd seen Owen looking anything like he did now. He was some kind of lizard. Now it seemed only half done, though, and the effect wasn't an attractive one.

He watched again as Leon did his little disappearing trick. He did sight Leon palming the charm, but had assumed that it vanished with the rest of necklace under his blocked view. His thoughts didn't dwell on it for long, there was little he saw was suspicious with it.

Owen subconsciously found himself cringing away as Leon neared him, not entirely enjoying how close they were. Something within him almost expected him to launch a surprise fireball at his face, even though the conflict had apparently ended. It wouldn't be the first time that he'd unjustly strike him.

Stalemate? Owen couldn't quite recall what that word meant, but he felt that it had something to do with not tearing each other's faces off. Whatever. He wanted to question it, but he didn't want to appear as much more of an idiot as he already did.

The hand was given a blank look. Again, Owen wanted to reject it entirely. But he'd done it before, and it hadn't done him any favours. His clawed hand gripped the other boy's, before summoning the remaining scrap of his strength to haul himself to his feet. He was notably unsteady, his head spinning, and he did almost lose his balance a few times before he finally found the confidence to let go of the boy's hand.

At his question, he frowned... at least, one side of his face did. The lizard side still seemed stuck, expression-wise. Did he really want to tell him? After a moments consideration, he realised that he wasn't about to be honest. He hated this guy. His raised his chin - despite his beaten, wobbling form, he still tried to maintain a sense of superiority. "The same thing that I'm gonna do to yours."