A frown falls flat across Allen's face. "Believe me, I hold no delusions about changing you." His eyes are hooded and unimpressed, and though it reads like Allen's blunt, honest truth, if he would search deeper than the irritation Tyki always stokes in him, he'd remember that's not exactly how he feels.

Of course he wants to save him. He wants to save everyone. And he will keep trying to do so until it kills him, finally. Even wanting a Noah to change sides is ridiculous, realistically, he knows. Still, Allen can't help but remember that man on the train--Tyki's white side.

He wants him to have reasons to not kill. Maybe he won't change, and Allen won't try to make him.

"But I'll--" And just like that, he's cut off as Tyki goes for Allen's throat. His left fist moves instinctively to his throat to avoid being strangled as he realizes too late that that's not the point and Tyki is tugging at his collar. Holding his face, gently. Ugh. He struggles against Tyki's grip, trying to pull back and away and ignoring the shudder that runs up his spine.

"What-- What are you talking about?!" The hell does he mean, Innocence? On his neck? Allen uselessly strains to see, against Tyki's hand and, well, human anatomy in general.

Oh, God. The thought flashes across his face. What is growing out of me now?

The mark, very obviously, isn't Innocence. But it also very obviously is the Musician's Score in a gradient of lilac and red.