Though the brief exchange between Asmodeus and Ashil was spoken in the low turns of intimacy and embarrassment respectively, its intensity allowed Phobetor to hear. The God of Nightmares, forgetting his current shadow puppets -gorgon and a scorpion, the latter of which had been losing badly- listened in. To hear the bashful-sounding blonde speak so differently practically screamed something unusual. Maybe the kid was a schizophrenic? Phobetor always enjoyed the dreams of the mentally ill the most, since he didn't need to do much to make them a wild tumult of chaos and madness. It was like being a director and sitting down to enjoy a movie made by someone else, though understandably more horrifying.

Phobetor turned away from the conversation, making sure not to look at Ashil's. He was pleased to see the brute finally get a little of what was coming to him, but in the wake of such a humiliation he would probably be even more of a pissant than usual—this sentiment had settled in his mind even though he'd only known Ashil for a few minutes. Phobetor's hand had already returned to their original positions before he realized how incredibly bored he was with shadowplay. A lone, brilliantly pink cherry tree on the side of the road caught his attention, and he watched it until the bus left the pretty plant behind. 

Just then a girl's voice reached him from a few seats over. He practically whirled to face her, and was met with the same plain face and brown hair that belonged to Evera; he had marked her name when the shrine-maiden had called it out. Instantly he felt that his privacy had been intruded on, like a child trying to play his game away from the prying eyes of his fellows. Why would someone else be interested in what he was doing? Why would she be watching in the first place? He decided that she must have some sort of angle. With a flick of his wrist, the shadows vanished. "Killing time," he finally drawled, purposefully filling his tone with the idea that he didn't want to be disturbed. Unfortunately, he was sure that such an answer wouldn't satisfying this girl's curiosity, and he had better fill her in. "I bring darkness to life," he added cryptically, holding up a open hand and making sure his disfigured, clawlike fingernails were visible. Perhaps that would put her off.