In a shadow-filled alley, a man sat atop a Dumpster, one leg curled up, arm resting on his knee, while the other hung from the edge. From underneath long, black bangs, a pair of strong, steel-grey eyes peer at the ground, not focusing on anything in particular. All was quiet, except for the incessant complaining going on within his head. However, instead of his voice, the voice that was speaking was harsh, the words seeming to drip with malice even as he says the words one would normally hear from a small child, with a whine appropriate to the phrase: [i]I'm booored...[/i]

For the nth time that night, Isaac Ryder sighs. [i]I'm sorry, Vincent, he tells his other self, [i]but I don't trust you enough to let you out.[/i]

[i]But, Isaac,[/i] Vincent goes on, [i]I promise, I won't kill everybody! Just a few people, that's all![/i]

[i]How many's a few?[/i]

[i]Maybe one or two...hundred.[/i]

[i]Even just one or two are too many![/i]

Before Vincent can reply, the sound of shuffling, as well as several solid thuds drift through the night air. Dropping to the ground, his cloak ruffling as his boots hit the pavement almost silently, Isaac walks briskly to the opening of the alley before pressing himself against the wall. Peeking around the corner, he sees a woman surrounded by several, swaying men, the scent of alcohol wafting off of them so strongly, Isaac finds he can pick it up even from where he was, yards away. As he watches, the man behind her lunges forward and Isaac moves to stop him, only to find that he can't move. [i]Slow your roll, dude,[/i] Vincent says. [i]Something tells me she'll be fine. Just watch.[/i] Reluctantly, only because he can't move, thanks to Vincent mentally holding him back, Isaac settles down and watches the fight unfold.