Owner	Pose
Spawn	Life in Rat Alley was a miserable one, and that went double when you were no longer technically among the living. So sometimes Al went out wandering, like on this night. Alone in his thoughts, obsessing over the life he'd lost. Thinking of Wanda. Wanda... Al visited her often, watching their house like a man possessed, some nights watching over her as she slept. Some nights he found himself imagining strangling her new husband and his former best friend. When he came to he'd found himself drenched in a cold sweat despite the fact that that wasn't supposed to be possible anymore. So tonight he was staying far away from That House, he didn't want to think those thoughts again. No, instead he was just one of the rabble, an anonymous face to help him blend into the atmosphere better. Yes, tonight he just looked like a homeless former veteran, bearded and sat on a nearby stoop while he just took in the lonely sounds of a lonely world. A brief moment of respite, before returning to his Hell away from Hell.
Jessica Jones	There was a reason Alias Investigations was usually the prefered go to agency for people in need of PIs without fear, Jessica was never one to say no even when sent to dangerous neighborhoods, even when serious gangs were behind a case, it was all a manner of sufficent pay. Oh, and that the client didn't mind a bit of profanity. So what if Hawkeye Investigations were without it, sometimes a well placed swear word could resolve a situation far simpler than needless effort. It rattled people, got them off their guard, and sometime, off their game. Just so happened that the man she was hired to follow went into one house next to Wanda's, allowing someone looking from afar, to potentially mistake Jessica hanging on a rooftop across, for taking pictures of THAT house, rather than the one she actually was tracking. Her lens looked quite expensive, and no doubt a powerful zoom on it, as she clicked away. "Fucking bastards, then again, business wouldn't be as good if it wasn't for dirty cheating assholes..." she muses to herself, already mentally deciding whether she'll dare save for a Yamazaki proper.
Spawn	In life, Al had been a social smoker, and a social drinker. He was not a man ruled by addictions, which made his first few days as a Hellspawn all the more desperate. He'd learned, though, that chemicals, drugs and other things had no effect on a body made of Necroplasm. This meant that he was awake for everything, able to notice every small detail around himself. Like the clicking of camera shutters, like the muttering of a foul-mouthed person that he recognized. Instantly, the man's green eyes narrowed as he reached a calloused, "human" hand up to stroke his "beard". It was truly uncanny that the cape could do this, and do it so effortlessly, but he didn't have time to dwell on the strange impossibilities of his threads. Instead, he called out with an impossibly deep, gravelly voice even as he remained sitting in that little staircase. But even across a distance, that voice of his demanded to be noticed. "I hope you're not trying to hide, I could hear your loud-ass complaining from a block away." Every sound made by the woman had been serving to irritate him just a little bit more, and that was BEFORE he recognized her...hadn't she been somewhere in the bushes, up in Sunnydale? He was sure he'd heard that voice and seen that face before, earlier in the day...
Jessica Jones	"Dude, voice modulators are so last century, you're not going to freak me out with 'I am demon' voice," Jessica stammers while still keeping her eye planted on the viewfinder. "What are you 12? Get lost, I'm working here..." will wonders ever cease? Turns out even with voices demanding of attention, Jessica's isn't easy to sway. She's seen the worst the world has to offer, she lived through it, she hated every moment. She's not afraid to die, that would only serve as a release from the shit everyone wade through daily. Yup, Jessica is a real philosopher.
Spawn	Al, disguised as a regular nobody, leaned back as he watched the raven-haired gumshoe out the side of his eye. He looked back through his memories, fighting through the haze of surrealism that seemed to surround his existence until suddenly it 'clicked' for him. Until suddenly he placed her 'face' exactly where he'd seen her last. The sudden coincidence of seeing her again, and the thought of how close she'd been to his home, to his Wanda. Immediately the "veteran's" black skin, and long hair seemed to lose their shape and color, the same as his olive green jacket and his old dirty jeans. Everything seemed to become a dull leathery red that grew in vibrance until it unfurled like the wings of a bat. The sitting figure stood, and that red spilled around him, the cape draping around the figure in black and white 'armor', that was the only word for it. He was much taller than he'd been a moment ago, seeming to tower whereas before he seemed like he'd been sinking into the earth itself. That masked face looked down at Jessica as he approached her with long, sweeping steps. Those eyes were glowing a menacing shade of green, glowing so bright they could have been radioactive for all one knew. And that voice, before simply deep, was now booming almost violently. "You. I recognize you. Why were you in Bludhaven? Why are you following me?!"
Jessica Jones	The whole transformation sequence is one entirely missed by Jessica, who snaps the last few pieces of evidence. Adultery was the easiest case, but always one that felt terrible to undertake. She knew nobody was perfect, and exploiting that for earning felt bad, but the money was good. Before she could settle to leave, however, that other guy from before made a very spectacular appearance right next to her on the roof. Looking up at him, Jessica let her camera hang from a neck strap, as she took measure of Spawn. "So it wasn't a voice modulator, huh? Paint me shocked," Jessica sighed, somehow expecting a fight would somehow ensue, "look, I'm just doing my job, I don't know who you are, don't care who you are, and definitely wasn't following you...so how about we each go our own way, and we skip the whole dick measuring contest?"
Spawn	This close it would have been easy to see the way that the armor seemed to move and shift every so often, even as the various chains wrapped around his body as well as that almost impractically long cape seemed to follow suit, as if they were more than simple pieces of clothing. At her words, his eyes narrowed and he quickly closed the distance between them with his massive, oversized right boot launching out to knock her across the impromptu upper story battlefield that they were apparently standing on. Whatever he was, he was FAST, and he was STRONG, and he didn't seem to be showing very much restraint. Which was confirmed when he next spoke. His voice was lower-pitched than it used to be, anger mixed with an icy quiet. "Then you've got a new job: Staying the hell away from her. If I so much as catch you within a country mile of her ever again, they're gonna be fishing pieces of you out of the Hudson river."
Jessica Jones	Jessica proves that she's no normal woman herself, when her response is simply to grab Spawn's foot as he reaches to kick her, and apparently she can manage it quite well. Her feet remain planted where they were. She absolutely glowers at Spawn, visibly unimpressed with his fearsome and somewhat demonic looks. "Away from who?" Jessica groans at Spawn, not liking the typical bigger man thinking he can intimidate a smaller woman, she hated that sort. "If you're talking about the poor girl Esteban is with, fat chance, I do my job when hired...you want to shake me for it? You're welcome to try, doucheface." Yeah, Jessica doesn't scare easy, and judging by the way she's squeezing her hands around the leg she just grabbed, she's fully prepared to fight back, her demonstration suggesting she just might break his leg before she gives it back.
Spawn	Well. This was awkward. But if the tall masked figure was worried about this new situation, he had a good poker face. Which, considering he was wearing a full-face mask, was perhaps self evident. Strangely, those glowing green eyes narrowed at her words and actions, his ankle creaking and groaning threateningly in those impossibly strong, narrow slender fingers. For one or two moments he hopped there in place before deciding to take matters into his own hands. Literally in this case, when that right, impossibley large gauntlet of his started to glow with bright green violent energy. Moments later he threw out a backhand aimed at around her face area, nothing designed to destroy her, but if this hit, it would hit much harder than his boot had previously. He was now using the Necroplasma in his body to boost his own strength and speed for a few moments, more than enough time to get Ms. Jones away from his leg. "Don't play dumb with me. I saw you in Sunnydale. I know who you've been spying on. And if you don't want an express ticket to Hell, you are going to stop. Right fucking now."
Jessica Jones	"Why do most men have to be assholes like you!?" Jessica hisses through gritted teeth, as she flips the leg with force to make Spawn lose his balance the moment he shifts to attempt the punch. Could she take a punch from him? It's possible, but that wasn't the point, he was delaying her when she had to go finish the case and get paid. She had no time to fight cosplayers, or whatever the fuck he was, "play dumb? If you were anywhere related to Hell, you'd be here to give me a reward, not threaten me," she considers fighting back, but instead she points down at street level, "while you're dealing with me, looks like your lady friend is getting attacked." Jessica figures if he really cares, he will look, which should give her enough time to do what she hates doing. Take to the air and fly away from there, and the freako in a mask and cape.