"Oh no," and it came from the voice of an angel, rolling off his lips in a pout almost sultry in its blasphemy - for his eyes, they burn, and they wane not in the face of the group before him. Green-bright emeralds, set secure in their sights, betraying his expression at every turn as negotiations ... proceeded. "What is Momo to do?" He wasn't so helpless, nor was he in a particular position of power. He skirted a fine, thin line, balanced across with the lackadaisical way he stepped back and forth down its invisible draw. A gun hung from his right hand, twirling the trigger guard with dissolved care - sugar in water, and the oil of his tone that split both.

The situation was thus; he had angered a band of vampires in the Baskan Outskirts, and they looked for him to pay his due before things got worse for both parties. He had no allies, middling combat ability (still in his learning period since his escape from Joya), and was out-numbered by three. It was four of the ghouls in various shapes, stretching thin and tall and stout but untimid. They asked for recompense. Retribution, for those he had slain on a recent hunt. He had taken from their family, and they needed now to take from him - but they weren't willing to risk what they had left, not unless he lit the powder keg further.

The problem came down to that look in his eyes. The way he moved, erratic. He couldn't stay still. Even the light in his eyes would shift, discombobulate, glitch between various states of apathy and mania. He couldn't pin down just one emotional state - he felt so much, all the time! He vibrated with his energy, the hand twirling his pistol like a grandstanding gunslinger beginning to shake and offkilter the motion; so he caught it between his fingers, holding firm to the each side of the trigger. It swayed between him, the way his head would tilt and bare that gaze of consideration - judgment - and the vampire quarry, who hissed when the pendulum gravitated their way. He hummed, and the gaunt leader of the pack spoke. "You terror ... you monster ... If you won't acquiesce, we will take what we need from you. You will feel the fear you struck into our young, and you will suffer in that same torment as we --"

Bang! Went a magic bullet into the skyline, sparkling a new star just above them for the night sky. It silenced the vampire and bent them each into a position waiting to pounce, only for Momiji to watch them with wide eyes and lips parted for a gasp -- having popped his mouth open in time with the shot fired. "Nu-uh."

It was a single word as his petulant reply, his accent thick with broken Fiorian. The language of the land was a process, but the language of their bodies - his actions - served him well where words couldn't. "Momo's not interested. It's oh ⁿᵒ! Oh no, Momo says, 'cause --"

And the gun cocked, pointed their way and disassembling the terse parley. "You're ₆ ₒ ᵣ ᵢ ₙ ₉."