Checking out the night life (st?, open)

The youth let out a low sigh, filling the air around him with a soft velvet smoke as he moved the cigarette from his lips and exhaled. He was standing on a corner, one hand tucked in the pocket of his trousers, his back against the wall of the building as he watched the night life, what little there was of it.
The Germans had finally moved into town, the Sabbat like wise, meaning night time hunting just got a lot more interesting. For the time being he was simply observing though, perhaps if the right person came his way he'd make a move, but the waiting was half the fun. Specially if he could make them come to him.

Charlie reached up, pushed his sixpence back a little so that his features weren't obscured by the shadows so much, and let his steel blue eyes sweep across the street. Maybe he'd get lucky... He'd been feeling itchy ever since the damn Wraith started showing up so a distraction would be a welcomed change of pace. Preferably a bloody one..

The streets were almost completely empty this time of night. The footfalls of a few Germans could be heard off in the distance-- it was their boots that made them recognizable by sound to Charlie. Down several of the streets, there came a clattering of metal on stone as stray cats knocked over God knows what, their yowls carried on the still night air.

A cool wind tugged at Charlie's hair just as something else tugged at the sleeve of his jacket and scarf, pulling downward. Something... young... cleared their throat at about Charlie's elbow.

"Huh..?" the youth's eyes was drawn to whoever it was that had managed to sneak up on him without him noticing. Though his body language remained the same calm as before.

"Can I have a cigarette, sir?" Asked a filthy, raggy dressed boy of about 11 or 12. His face was covered in soot. What appeared to be a split lip was oozing just a small amount of blood.

He looked the kid over for a moment before reaching into his back pocket and producing a slightly crumpled but half filled pack of cigarettes.
//"Take a couple kid"// the youth replied in French, the dialect not local, but sounding definitively French none the less as he tucked his own cigarette back between his lips and fished out a match box and an unused handkerchief. //"Here"//

"Merci!" The boy exclaimed with delight, but in a whisper. He took two cigarettes, sticking one into the sleeve of his own raggy jacket. The other he placed between his lips and took a match which he struck on the walk at his feet.

He simply looked at the handkerchief and shook his head. "Non... If I appear clean and whole, the soldiers will... put me to work..."

//"Yeah..."// they would, wouldn't they?
Charlie pocketed the items again and lifted his hand to his lips to take the cigarette between two fingers, exhaling again.
//"They started rounding up people yet?"// he said, eyes once again back to scanning the streets, once again listening for sounds although he made sure to keep the kid's shadow in the corner of his eyes.

The boy shrugged, looking around nervously and making sure to keep well outside the light, disallowing for any sight of his shadow. He leaned his back into a wall and took a short drag.

"It is possible. Some of the orphans that did not get evacuated are missing. But I've kept hidden in the sewers. I've heard tell of things that go bump in the night."

Speaking of which...
Charlie turned to the boy again, eyeing him for a moment before reaching out with a manicured hand meaning to place it under the child's chin so that he could lift it slightly, preferably in such a way that he could place a finger against the side of his throat. Because while the Colonel was most definitively the most direct of the two, the youth was no less paranoid.
There was nothing threatening or rushed about the way he did it though, most likely it could come across as him wanting to take a closer look at that busted lip of his.

The heart beat that Charlie felt raced. The boy looked at him with a curious gaze, having no problem finding Charlie's eyes as he stared. The busted lip, upon closer inspection, appeared to be infected.

Human at least, or so it seemed.
//"You really should have that looked at, kid"// Charlie said, letting go of him again as he pulled his hand away and corrected the collar of his shirt with a light tug. //"That's going to get bad if you don't get it cleaned up. Wash it, put some honey on it"// because while scarce there was still a better chance of finding that around than any actual medicine, and the honey would keep the wound from getting infected, not allowing any bacteria to grow in it.
//"Trust me"// he took a lazy breath of his cigarette. //"Otherwise you'll get sick"//

The boy stared stone faced for a moment and his head tilted to the side.

"But sir..." He grinned. "I'm already sick..."

Steel blue eyes drifted to the kid again, though he didn't move his head and he sure as Hell didn't look him straight in the eyes.
//"Sick? How?"// he had a feeling the answer might decide whether or not the brat got to keep his head.

"He said it was tuberculosis," still he smiled. And then faked a cough. "It comes in fits and spurts, sir. And it keeps me away from the soldiers who wish not to be sick."

//"And who told you that?"// he asked, arching an eyebrow at the kid as he reached inside his jacket for something. //"The doctor?"//
And subsequently quickly jerked his hand back as if having cut himself on something as a thin line of blood could be seen dripping from one of his fingers.
//"Ah shit.."//

"I wouldn't let that drip onto the ground if I were you sir," still he smiled a wicked smile. "It was not the doctor-- not in the sense that you would understand. I am but a pet project."

//"You know.... I almost figured it was something like that"// the youth smirked as he put his finger between his lips.

"You are smarter than you appear, then," the boy simply laughed an insane laugh that still only came out as a whisper.

What happened next happened fast, a lot faster than most people would've been able to react in fact as the youth slipped his left hand in under his jacket, pulled a sleek blade from it's hidden sheath and pressed it to the kid's throat in one liquid movement.
It wasn't hard enough to draw blood, but the edge of the razor sharp weapon suggested that even a little movement might be a bad idea at this point as steel blue eyes stayed locked on the child.
//"So tell me then, kid. About this little project"// Charlie said calmly, licking the last drop of blood from his finger while holding the blade with a steady hand.

"You are what I thought you were!!" He was positively gleeful as he bounced, scraping his flesh on the blade and allowing for a line of his own blood to trickle down the steel. "He will be thrilled!"

His face went dark.

"I cannot tell you about the project, unfortunately. You'll tell."

//"Is that so...."// he threw a very brief look around, grabbed a hold of the kid and dragged him around the corner into a slightly darker alley. //"One chance kid. I want a name"// the youth pinned the kid to the wall, the blade still to his neck.

"Gerard," he smiled, eyed wide. "That's a good name."

Funny, the kid was a regular comedian wasn't he?

Charlie moved one hand over the kid's mouth, using his strength to keep him pinned and swiftly cut the knife into his arm.
//"Who?"// he hissed again.

The boy let out a gasp from the pain of the cut, but quickly relaxed, almost as if Charlie had hit some kind of release valve. He continued to grin.

"Oh, Gerard," he mused, his eyes going upward. "This isn't the right kind of one, I don't think..."

There was a sound of a fluttering of wings and then a sharp cry of a bird from above.

More?
The Hell he was up for playing games.