#/ wolfgang in japan is so surreal to me because there's a lot 511 has probably drilled into him about the country

[dernarrleid]

no man’s land. | @badheart​

     Wolfgang does not lose control. He groans and broods and slouches with indignance, denying all involvement in murderous activity when officers question his presence at recent crime scenes. He’s very careful about speaking of details and the who’s of what he’s seen, but Wolfgang manages to slip under the radar most times, because it’s not hard to stay hidden in plain sight when you’re a simple man on the streets of Germany. Tokyo treats him like a different beast entirely. He nearly suffocates at the presence of law enforcement and watchful citizen perched at odd corners and streets ends. He can’t breathe. He can’t feed. Wolfgang feels like an animal — all consuming of instinct, want and need to —to feed. He concentrates and finds it’s a lot easier to do so in the black of the alleyway far into a neighborhood so dingy it reeks of urine and beer and — and meth?

     His hand reaches of the wall, fingers gliding between the brick layout. His other hand comes to his face, holding his forehead, thumb barring sharply to his temple. He waits and wants. The smell of blood fills his nose while the almost distinct chatters of men fill the alley. They sneer and laugh, wondering if he’s just a lost foreigner, wondering if he’s got enough cash for another bottle of that retched smelling beer. Wolfgang would love it if they all disappeared and the dark of the alley gave him enough room to breathe — if the alley were long enough to give time for this affliction to pass and not consume him. Wolfgang does not lose control, but he was never that lucky. He remembers his fingers piercing something gooey. The glint of streetlights hit a piece of metal in one of the assailants pockets and lots of screaming. There was a miserable sort of sobbing noise and he was confused since the only one standing seemed to be him in a pool of blood and another presence too overwhelming to ignore. 

     “Long way from the Sky Tree it seems,” Wolfgang mumbles, gaining his bearings. He has a ghost of a smile when she reaches from her gun, amused at the threat knowing he’d just massacred an annoying gaggle of men. “Would you believe I’m not from here? The hospitality didn’t live up to my expectations.” 

     Wolfgang summons the will of smile fully. He breathes deeply and can finally turn to meet the gaze of a woman who at the very least isn’t perturbed by his outburst enough to tremble. Good, he thinks. Someone he can talk to without having to hide that pesky side of him. “Kind of embarrassin’ to be caught in the middle of a tantrum. I don’t usually like travelling to the city often and, well, as you can see there’s a reason,” Wolfgang looks down to the twitching hand of a man way beyond the grave. “Albeit a very dangerous one. You wouldn’t maybe forget I was here, would you... Officer?”