Cross, for once, had a day where he cared about nothing. He had no job to do that day, he had no 'shopping' to get done, he had no people to visit, no messages to deliver, no one to fight...He was utterly bored. Something that didn't happen often for this borderline sociopath. As he walked blankly through the Open, he was aware that he was approaching someone. He didn't care. If they didn't want to be bothered, they could move. Yes, Cross was a bit inconsiderate. So what? He stopped not too far from the person as they asked who was there, making sure to be in the person's view, so that they didn't attack. Well, if they had attacked it would've at least given him something to do. "No one you need concern yourself with," he answered carelessly.

His dark wings were folded against his back, and his grayish blue eyes were blank and careless. Most people found Cross to be extremely intimidating. Those people were mostly women and children, but men usually tried to show machismo and stand up to him. Those who tried to fight him on sight usually ended up in one of two conditions: dead, or severely wounded. Cross didn't normally attack those who didn't strike first. Unless he was delivering a message that called for it, this fallen angel type tried to stray from conflict. Not to say that he didn't enjoy a good battle every now and then.

Cross looked at the man as he stated the obvious. His eyes narrowed at this guy's ignorance. They were not the same in any way, even if they did both have wings. Cross's wings were the result of something entirely experimental. "You may call me Cross," he told the man as he asked for his name. No. He never gave out his real name. Cross was the name he went by, and it was the only one he ever gave out. The man he used to be was wiped from existence a long time ago. "Indeed, we have not met," he confirmed. It seemed this guy didn't really know much about Cross except that he was a messenger. It almost irritated Cross to know that this man grouped him with the rest of those messengers that the villages hired on a normal basis.

I am no ordinary messenger. Cross wasn't just a messenger. Well, okay he was. But verbal and written messages were not the only ones he delivered. Many deaths were on his hands, but not his conscious. Many wounded souls had their blood spilled by his hands. Nobody to whom Cross was supposed to deliver these types of messages escaped from him. Yes, he did his job, and he did it well. "If you didn't care, then why bother mentioning it." Cross stated as more of a statement than a question. This man was annoying. But Cross's cool cover never faded, even if this man was...irritating.

"Of course it isn't my real name," he stated almost bluntly. Why would he ever give his real name out? He'd admit to anyone who asked that it wasn't his real name. He had no problems with it. Cross looked the man over as he introduced himself as the assistant of the Crested. "Ah. So you're the one who disappeared." Yes, Cross kept up with all events. He had to, otherwise, what good would he be when people came about asking him for information? Cross almost smirked as the man stated that he might've been one of those assassins. "Assassin? No. But you are correct about one thing. I do deliver more than just letters." He didn't like that term; assassin. Had a nasty ring to it. He preferred to be noted as a Messenger, though occasionally he'd get irritated when people grouped him together with other simple messengers. He raised an eyebrow only slightly at Lucifer's last statement. "Aren't you observant." Oh yeah, there was heavy sarcasm in that one. Cross didn't care for being polite. He didn't care for making friends. He didn't care for making allies. He needed none of those things. All he needed were jobs. Paying jobs.

Cross looked at the man as he laughed. What was this guy's issue? Nothing was funny. Big old mister mysterious...? What an idiot... He thought bluntly. "You're right. I don't really care." So he was an ass. He knew it. He didn't care to change it. Come with him...? Why in the hell would he come with someone he didn't even know? It's not like he took orders from this man or anything, because he didn't. But he was bored, and if it gave him something to do...Cross simply shrugged and beat his wings down powerfully one time and he shot up into the air, but stopped himself before he got too high, his wings beating at a steady pace to keep himself at that same height. He looked at Lucifer. "So you are asking for my services then?" Cross clarified. He'd better get something out of this. He didn't do these kinds of things for free, even if he was bored. He had to make a living somehow.

Cross had no issues with doing research. In fact, that was part of his job most of the time. "No one said that the only thing I did was kill people," he stated matter-of-factly. Being so powerful, Cross's wings only had to beat down once every now and then to keep up with Lucifer. He didn't care that it paid a lot, just that it paid. He wasn't really all that greedy, but he did indeed like jobs like these. It gave him enough money to live off of for a good while before he had to take another job. Cross did have a lot of money saved up though, just for a rainy day.

He nearly forgot to beat his wings when he'd frozen at Lucifer's comment about having used a jutsu to learn about him. He flew up next to Lucifer and looked at the kid through narrowed eyes. "Don't do that again," he warned. He didn't like people knowing about him. He almost thought of killing this kid for doing such a thing. The more people knew about Cross, the worse. He nodded as Lucifer finished explaining. "Understood," he answered simply.

Cross almost cracked a smile when Lucifer commented on his flying. He'd just been taken off guard by that comment of the boy's. It wasn't normal for Cross to do such a thing, but his past was something he did not want revealed. At least not his past before his messenger job. All after that he didn't care much, but to have someone know more about his was a definite negative in his book. "Had you asked whom I killed, most of my answers, if not all, would've been honest. The only thing I cannot discuss with you are my current and future missions. And as for my personality most people seem able to recognize it at first glance," he said, letting slip a chuckle.

Yes, it was true, Cross was the type of man that, as Lucifer said so sarcastically, gave off a rather intimidating aura, which, combined with his blank expression, led people to believe he was something of a cold-hearted killer. And they weren't too far off in thinking such things. He nodded when Lucifer said that Cross had his word that he would no longer intrude on his past or future. "Much appreciated."

"Now, allow me to assure you something," he said as Lucifer finished warning him. "I do not stray from my mission once it is given, although I've had attempts in the past to difer me and turn me against my employer. That has never happened, so you need not worry. You have my word." Although the word of an 'assassin' may've not meant much in appearance, Cross was indeed a man of his word. If he had nothing else, no morals, no friends or family, no reason for even continuing on in this mortal plain, there was one thing he did have: Pride. And he would not allow that to escape him either.