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There's three ways you could recognize Evil Personified, wherver she went.

The first was her unmistakable appearance. Pale silver hair and blood-red eyes aren't common features. Since the age of eleven, she hasn't grown an inch past 5'3"; her aura gave her a dangerous glow, dark wings intertwined into one merciless pitch-black night. She always wore long sleeves, long pants, and military-style boots, but when she moved or fought, the strange markings on her arms, legs, and neck became visible all the same. The glint in her eyes, the silver flash of her revolver; it was all a sign that Evil Personified was ready to murder.

The second was the scythe that she carried with her, always, everywhere. It was certainly impossible to ignore; Evil Personified would always be standing over it, sharpening its blade and bragging over how irresistibly perfect it was as a weapon, and others would nod in fear; no one wants a blade in their head. And if there was no one to bother about it, she would simply yell at herself. It was a rediculous sight; most others would just stare in disbelief at her vanity.

The third one was one that not everyone knew about, because while it was just as distinctive as the other two, it wasn't wuite so obvious. Only those who talked to her, on business or on the street, really noticed it, only those who spent quite some time in her presence could identify it. The small scent of steel, overlaid by a whiff of gun powder. It wasn't an unpleasant smell, but others noticed.

She wasn't quite polite to the hotel staff, but she, at the very least, tipped the bellboys who had managed to maneuver the load of cash she had stolen gently enough for her satisfaction. She muttered a thanks to the boy, about her age, who had brought her her food, and encouraged by the slight smirk on her face, he tried his hand at a little flirting with the white-haired demon.

"Why don't you come down to eat in the common room?" he coaxed, cocking his head to the side and smiling. "Iit should be fun tonight; some singers come around regularly, there might even be a show."

She shook her head, fingerless gloves gripping the edge of the tray. "Sorry, I've got work to do." she said.

He pouted a bit, but tried to draw her out anyways. "What kind of work do you do?" he said. "I heard you have a high reputation. Sounds amazing."

"Nah, not really." she shrugged. "I'm searching for someone. Someone very important."

"Really?" the boy asked, confused. A faint smell tickled the back of his nose, something like bullets..?

"Yeah. He's slipped outta my sight for while, but I'm almost there. And when I find him, I can get back what I've lost."

Puzzled, the boy glanced past her, in deep thought. "... Then, are you sure you don't want to come out of that stuffy room and eat with other people?" he wheedled. "Or, I could come in and eat with you. You must be lonely, all alone in there."

She frowned a bit and shook her head again. "I'm never lonely."

-+-

He didn't see the demonic beauty when she checked out the next morning, cash, scythe, boots, and all. But he was the one assigned to clean out the room for the next guest, and when he did, the sheets smelled overpoweringly of gun powder.

-+-FIN-+-


Afterwards ~

This story is based off an FMA fic. Nothing more. Hope you enjoyed. Leave comments. c: