Oh, what a wonderful day for killing things. Well, it was always a wonderful day for killing in Seraphina's mind. She toed the dead body of the dog that had, just so happened, to get too close to her in too quick a time. Gunshot to the head, that was all it took. Squatting down, the woman poked it with her finger, narrowing bright blue eyes. The collar jingled as metal clanked against metal and the Hermes member unlinked the collar from around the dead animal's throat. How low was she stooping? Killing animals. In general, Phina liked animals...but then there came dogs like this. This frou-frou little fucking poodle. It was expensive, probably a thousand dollar dog. Ha, not anymore. Huffing to herself, slender fingers turned over the studded leather collar with the round silver tag that stated the animal's name and where it lived. She smirked, fingered the engraved words, and promptly snapped the collar around her own neck. She'd have to take off the tag, sure, but it looked pretty fancy.
No one on the street seemed to take notice of the girl that stalked from the alleyway. She hummed a little tune to herself, glancing up at the sky as she walked. Her gun? Back in the holsters she kept underneath her jacket, safe from everyone's view. What was she actually doing out here? Seraphina wasn't really sure. She sometimes traveled around the town, collecting information on the people she knew were parts of gangs. She hated them all, with a burning passion. Why that was, well...it was conditioned. Just an automatic response, really. Seraphina didn't know who she was, where she came from, what she was before she acquired this intense hatred for everyone that wasn't Isaiah or Frey.

Contrary to popular belief, Phina did think of more than just killing. Granted, killing gave her a rush of sorts--yes, sexual was included in that rush--but there was more to life than that. Sometimes she wished she didn't have the urge to do away with everyone else, that she could just live normally, without the nagging twitch in the back of her head that demanded they die. The girl had problems, she knew she did...but she took solace in the fact that both Izzy and Frey had them too. Albeit, different problems, but problems all the same. They were hers though, no one was going to tell her otherwise.

Seraphina smiled thoughtfully--an expression rarely seen--at that thought. Yeah, hers. Hell yeah she'd kill for them. The two people that didn't abandon her, that took her in when she was found wandering with no name and no purpose. Reaching into her pocket for her sleek little phone, Phina was about to punch in one of their numbers, when some shots rang out in the direction she was walking. Halting her steps, the auburn haired girl glanced towards the playground in the park. Much to her amusement, parents and their kids were now running in her direction, crying out about some maniac. Well, on the off chance it wasn't one of her boys, Seraphina let slender fingers curl around the handle of her gun as she slipped further into the park.

And there she spotted him, leaning against a tree with his BB gun in hand. A bird or two scattered at his feet, the Hermes' looked somewhat out there. Then again, when didn't he? Releasing the hold she had on her weapon, a smile flitted across her face. Everyone thought her so incapable of anything other than psychoticism. She was human though, fully capable of friendship, humor, even love. Just because she didn't often let anyone rule over her emotions in such a way, didn't mean they weren't there. She was always happy to see a fellow Hermes. Then again, there were only three of them.

"Freeyyyyyy," she cooed, giving a little skip when she got a bit closer. "Shooting birds? Funny, I just killed a dog."

And she said this as if it were the most normal thing to say given any context. Almost to exaggerate her point, she let slim fingers reach up and trace along the jeweled collar around her neck. The tag dangled there, the name 'Fifi' gouged into the metal.