HOHOHO. So, I finally went about making one of these--and it's the first I've done, so I'm new to it but I'm also really excited to finally have a RP/awesome-whatever-else blog up. I feel I needed something where you guys could come and holler at my characters anyway since they're so unknown. ;; SO HERE WE GO: whatever you guys want to do on this entry, do it. <3 I'll reply as soon as possible and have whoever you want to toy with respond as best they can at the same pace. Paragraph style, shout-outs, through pictures or video and music--whatever you want. And even if someone has requested to RP with one character and you wanted the same person/deer, I have absolutely no problem with having two (or ten million) things going on at once with them. But also and lastly know that I'll probably be editing the little biographies down below a lot, so I apologize if this bumps up a lot on your track page. Deer and/or human. Other than that, go go go!
hercules rei gracemore
One of the more outgoing of this pact, Her is a self-declared pirate thanks to a thick and gritty love for the ocean--and more specifically, sailing. But aside from being content with ship terms and sword handling, she's a very down-to-earth being and wants nothing more than to make everyone happy. This can get her in trouble, too, however; she often forgets to look out for herself instead and can/has hurt people in the process. Overall, she's the happiest leader of this little family, bright and eager to find study or whatever else gets her sailor's accent going. Slow to anger or depress yet quick to befriend.
human Around 23. Chin-length, layered, brown hair with smokey eyes the same color. She has bangs going across her forehead in a feathered fashion. Her eyelashes are thick and black almost like a fawn's, and her choice of style is vintage--usually consisting of plentiful jewelry (hoop earrings and an engagement ring! <3) and stripes incorporated in the outfit somewhere. Hates heels and miniskirts, preferring boots and knee-length skirts or jeans.
deer Reindeer pelt, whisper mask, and peacock antlers. More detailed to the eyes is a Greek helmet combining both the last two layers. ( preview) Species-wise, she is a sitka deer, though her height and build is about average to a normal, adult white-tailed deer's.
code casimir kulpa
This Lithuanian is the fireball of the family; he has a attitude all his own that can come off as fun, offending, or oddly both, and this is only when he's sober. He does have a very striking personality, however: he loves nothing more than to talk about things he's educated on (like astronomy and minerals) and likes to share his culture with others. It's worth mentioning, too, that he has control over any type of stone and can summon golems, but he hides this from people he doesn't know. The only give-away are his eyes glowing green when these powers are being used. Lastly, he has an accent.
human Around 17. First and foremost is probably his hair--it's long on the left side and cut short on the right, and the layers are almost always gathered in a pony draped over his shoulder. It's color is a deep magenta and his eyes are a complimenting olive; that, and his skin has a bit of a bronze touch to it. He's on the shorter side around 5'5" but his street style clothing makes up for that. He favors ties, gloves, and ripped-up skinny jeans with tall converse.
deer A marsh deer, Code's build as a mammal is just a bit shorter and skinnier (though very well toned) than most of the other forest's. Although he's the smallest of these four characters, he makes up for it with a bold set: the red-striped pelt, the trumpet mask, and the beluga antlers. His tail, in more detail, is actually a ponytail the same color as his hair.
aiden mason king
Strange to say that Aiden is a transgendered name: it could be either a male or a female's, and the factual about that is uncanny considering Aiden is female, but brings herself off as a male by choice. This stems from the fact that she grew up to a mother dieing along the way after having birthed her baby brother; and since their father had long-since left, she had to raise the boy all on her own even by breastfeeding. For this reason, she became unexceptionably attached: and detached when he died of malnutrition and illness caused by their street-living, homeless and dirty. To her, it wasn't fair, so she decided to live her own, self-proclaimed "useless" life as the one her brother didn't get to have but with her same name. It's also thickly worth mentioning that she suffers from Alien hand syndrome on her right digits and palm thanks to an error in brain surgery attempting to fix epilepsy. Currently living somewhere in London with a steampunk, nebula-like life, she strives to find her place and understand confusion with a very sheltered, stubborn personality.
human Around 18. Aiden disguises herself as a male to help play an overbearing role in her life and history. Although, there are things she cannot hide: her anatomy, for the most obvious part, is attempted to be hidden beneath shirts that are too large; though for tighter things (like favored military jackets), she wraps her chest to help keep it flat and unnoticed. Her color scheme is like a jungle's: greens, reds, browns, burnt oranges, and whites, all in a like texture. And, as a man would have, her hair is cut short and is undoubtedly the best aspect of her lie framing sharp eyebrows that define an oddly beautiful male structure, with layered, gold colors sometimes played up by more pumpkin-hued highlights. Steampunk and accented by Victorian dressing without skirts. Both eyes are silver like perfect coins.
deer Axis deer. She bears the beluga mask slightly verified in mind towards a more warlike, gear-esque look, regular stag's antlers with candles, and the butterfly pelt. Her build and height is average to a normal stag's, although she shows signs of being a bit curvier than what a male deer's anatomy would. Her short tail is seemingly torn.
sortsand kai trevinger
Mysterious. It's very hard to explain Sort without having first introduced his history through story or something else, because it consists of a lot of Danish mythology and reason for a seemingly bi-polar habit. So I'll try and keep it understandable and short without spoilers by saying he has two "sides" to him, although at the current, he has absolutely no idea about his past self up until about a week ago when something occured. He used to be a straight-up, highly driven, and dirty guy that had a horribly obsessive and constant need to do anything concerning sex. As of now, however, he's the complete opposite and is a quiet individual that is still a closet "pervert", or so he shamefully calls it. Sleeping in the same room as him causes nightmares. He smokes and drinks, although little. Danish; he does speak perfect English with a thin accent.
human Around 24. His hair is jet black with very small hints of purple accents; two thin, long layers in the front that lie on his chest, the rest is shoulder-length and feathered. His bangs on the right side swoop just over his blue eyes. Two eyebrow piercings on his left brow and a lip piercing. As for how he dresses, it's pretty basic, and he leans towards darker clothes; long sleeves preferred most of the time. Quite frankly, he's unfairly attractive and tempting in appearance. ( preview)
deer Beluga pelt and orca mask with the default (black) antlers. Red deer; and being from this species means he is the tallest and more muscular of this four-membered, unrelated family. Though not overbearingly. His set is the same without any alterations to the original TEF setup other than the colors on the pelt being reversed, with black on bottom and white on top. |
-runs in- This is lovely!
This is lovely! <3
-runs out, leaving a track behind-
-SHOOTS IN-
LOLSUPGUYS
I should torture Code with
That's my Code whore
lolallthegargoyles ohhh goddd
HEY WATCH IT I prefer the
I prefer the term "skank" thx u and oh lord Camillo, Ellie, Kristopher, Dante... Dante. o Dante. AND CHANSE TOO. ALSO SORT/DEVI WOULD PROBABLY MAKE ME LAUGH BECAUSE HE'S A CLOSET PERVERT. AAHAHksd I am so amused by these possibilities can you tell
MY BRAAAAAAINNNNN @ SORT/DEVI
I'm sorry I can't even finish my comment, TOO BUSY FRYING AND LOLING
Wow. This CSS is amazing.
;; Ahh, thank you
Ee thank you.
Also I know I've said this before but I love your characters. I don't really RP with my deer otherwise I would do so instead of spamming your blog. x"D<3 Do they have biographies?
Hallo~
Mick Kreiger: You Know You Love Me XOXO
@LARUNA :: Ah, no stress~!
oh and you have also inspired Code's set as a deer c: So, I should thank you a bit, hee~
@MIKUUU :: YOU <3 Hi LOL hey my friend keeps making me read her Junjo's and I keep thinking of you so hohohoho I had to mention it. xD Geez that series...... I still have no comment.
egoist is luv. YOU MUST
YOU MUST ADMIT THIS. OR I WILL HATE YOU.
Mick Kreiger: You Know You Love Me XOXO
SURE IDK I DON'T HAVE A TEAM
IDK I DON'T HAVE A TEAM but if it makes you happy. YES... EGOIST.
o-omg this CSS blinds my eyes
but anyways
SOMEDAY
I'll post a roleplay comment on one of these... interaction blog-things
SOME... day;;
but, ah
Just had to tell you that this was pretty. ♥
Oh my god this CSS is
anywayz... I'm tracking this for now till I'll come around to write something x'3
Munkelllllllll
Ysrael, thank you so much ;A; Means a lot coming from you~!
also a bump, because I forgot about this blog as much as everyone else LMAO
I would like to let Crybaby
As human?
But I'm not really good at beginning... ;'D
(( holy crap ;;
It was pretty. Somehow, the fact that he'd been lying on the ground holding a cigarette up to the sky came off that way to him--a burning orange against a deep navy, the sky cloaked with night and stars. Strange to say it was extremely clear and free of any clouds, too; the smog-less air gave way to the rare sight of not only distant, sparkling objects, but nebulae and galaxies far off also found ways to peek through.
But it didn't last long. He'd finished that cigarette down to a stub, so it's light burnt out quickly and all he had to stare at was the single hue of black flecked with space's distant, white orbs. Pretending to paint pictures in the sky was funner when his drug was actually working and scented with nicotine.
What now?
He sat up. Mentally, the question was repeated. What now...? It's not like he'd had anywhere to go for the past few weeks. He had an apartment, and it repeatedly came to mind as his home, but it was such a cheap and worn-down building that it was almost safer to sleep outside. He only ever visited the dump in order to shower or pick up more stuff to intoxicate his body.
And that was strange, because he hated alcohol and anything but cigarettes. Yet he somehow found himself buying all the more, and some days, the bottles were empty. It terrified him.
Oh, well. It was already too late for anyone to be sitting around in the city's park so he might as well go back and suffer sleeping on his bad mattress again.
With a sigh, he passed a hand through his deep-purple and near black hair, stretching and turning to exit the playground.
((I intended to do it long
And I also have to say that I'm sorry if my English sucks gah >_<' you're writing so well ;^;))
Crybaby wasn't used to walk around alone in the dark after sunset. He had been at a friend's home, preparing some stuff for school tomorrow while they'd forgotten the time. He hoped Sithrim wasn't worrying too much already. It was a bit fresh... good that he was wearing his jacket, the hood covering his white hair, a glimpse of it in the city-lights.
The darkness fell over him, a curtain of unease and slight fear.
His steps were fast... maybe he could take a quicker way through the city park to get home.
He almost started running, only some lanterns guiding his way through the dark. So many shadows already, he didn't dare to look right or left, walking fast...
"Uh!" he only noticed the man when he'd already bumped into him. He quickly took a step back, looking up at the stranger, his sky-blue shining eyes looking up at him with a slight scared glare.
"I-I'm sorry sir..." he babbled quickly, intending to continue his walk as quickly as he could.
(( SORRY FOR BEING KINDA LATE
"Oh--" A chuckle interrupted his interjection, a short, quiet and peaceful sort of laugh. "It's fine." No need to be overly courteous or anything; it was an accident, and he, too, like any other person would have, had plans to just ignore the situation and walk "home".
He would have, anyway, had he not stepped on something. Bending over after tucking a few loose strands of that silken hair behind a pierced ear, he fingered the penny on the sidewalk, heads up. Half a smile was shared as he gave the first lift of blue eyes, blinking at Crybaby. It was only then that he'd noticed their contrasting appearances... while he stood there with one hand extended and the other stuffed in a dark pocket, Crybaby had a more polite posture. White hair was the opposite of near-black, and their ages differed by obvious physicality. Sort looked like some sort of suave criminal that knew how to get what he wanted--CB, innocent, and porcelain skin posing and helping him look like the doll he must have been.
It was funny, then, that despite looking at all that, they were actually a whole lot alike on the inside.
"Penny for good luck before you go, sir...?" Why not? The boy looked troubled enough. Maybe the coin would really bring peace to him like it was rumored to.
((No worries, was doing
Dark, long hair? He only saw the front hair of the other man, not the feathers on it. But there was something about him...
Crybaby looked at him with a more curious gaze now, wrinkling his eyebrows a bit.
"Huh? Oh I uhm. No thanks... I don't need any money..." he murmured embarrassed.
Why wasn't he just continuing his walk? He somehow couldn't really...
(( 8o just so you know,
The taller man gave a brief tilt of the head, looking down and away from CB's sky eyes to drop the penny back onto the ground. Someone else could pick it up that needed it; or, if the other boy was being an introvert, maybe he'd take it up after he left. Which he was planning to do: with a turn and a short wave, he turned on his heel to start up his exit without another word.
There was something about the other that made him feel . . . itchy, to say. It was one of those things that he had absolutely no idea about how he was supposed to react; try to mend his curiosity by talking, or ignoring it altogether as a simple mistake of his mind by walking away?
And, being who he was, he did the shyer approach: leaving.
Of course, a part of him wanted to address Crybaby. And it wouldn't leave him alone--it was a rivalry sort of emotion and he needed to push it away, else he'd lose himself again as he so often did. There was no reason to be so against a stranger. Why would he be, anyway? He didn't know him, and he was kind enough to apologize for bumping into him whereas most humans would just budge past with eyes on the floor.
He pressed on in his walk, eyebrows knit in a coming migraine.
It wasn't just an annoying desire to get his hands on the other. It also had a sort of mythical, gritty aspect to it. Something about wings, and the aura about the two--what in hell was that brief meeting for?
Was leaving even the right thing to do...?
It wasn't supposed to be so controversial!
((Uh >A> -feels
And I failed some more geez... I read "good look" and not "good luck" wtf... could someone slap me please? I think I didn't have enough sleep x'D oh man I'm so stupid. He wouldn't have reacted this way. I wrote that answer in the morning before school... bah))
"Uh... wait." he stretched out his arm but the stranger had already turned around and was walking away. Crybaby bend down and picked up the penny, not for himself though. He wanted to give it back.
"Hey!" he ran after him, the hood of his jacket falling back... revealing all his white hair.
He didn't really know why he ran after him, it wasn't really because of the penny, was it? No. He somehow could feel something... something more he hadn't been feeling since longer. This hint of...
He caught up and quickly grabbed the other man's jacket.
"Wait..." he walked to the front of the other man again "Why did you throw it away?" he opened his hand, the penny laying on it so the other could take it back "I don't understand how a penny brings luck..." he smiled shyly "Well... I'm sure you need some luck yourself?"
(( AHA~ xD Youu.
"What--" He closed Cry's fingers around the coin again, still refusing to accept it. It was almost like some sort of gift.
At least, it would have been had he not felt so odd about letting the other have it. He couldn't take his own now-purple eyes off white hair. Not twenty seconds earlier, they'd been blue... and he wasn't feeling himself.
This had happened before. There were some things he could control, and others were foreign to him--not his own actions, not his own words, and then the odd one was that some thoughts weren't his own, either. His psychiatrist was trying to get him to accept something like a bipolar disorder.
But it was so much worse...
Nonetheless, he used what declining energy he had left to fight off whatever wanted out. For whatever reason the white hair upon the other was driving him up a wall. "I didn't throw it away, I just put it back. It's a superstition that if you take a penny off the ground heads up, it will bring you luck, I suppose. I'm not sure how it works either but the thought is comforting." Even with his increasing headache, he managed another smile, tightening his fists hidden behind jacket pockets. "You can keep it."
Why was his voice tensing?
Admitting he felt sick before leaving the child alone again would just be odd--he couldn't do it. There was still something keeping him there, and at this point, he decided to just--
--. . . wings? On the back shoulder blades of this boy, just a little translucent... But before, they hadn't . . they were an illusion, right?!
His eyes beat red then as he hunched forward with a migraine now ripping with stings, holding at his head in absolute silence. Don't, don't, don't...
((Yeah I should sleep more ;;
Can Crybaby see his wings too maybe?))
"Uhm... thank you." Crybaby looked at his own hand which got closed and then looked up, wrinkling his eyebrows when he suddenly saw the other's eyes being purple-ish. Weren't they blue a moment ago?
"Are... are you alright?" he wasn't sure if he was wrong but it seemed that his eyes has gotten red now. But the guy seemed to feel very unwell as well. He slightly touched the other one's arm.
((very short I'm sorry >__<))
(( o8 Of course he can~! And
Contrary to hating Crybaby's own devices of flight having been seen, he sprouted his own.
How...? He was no longer the man he was when this now-familiar stranger had first seen him. It's almost a miserably sad fact to state that this was actually who he truly was, hatching forth. The only differences were his eyes now red as a heart and three wings sprouting from his own back, ripping through his shirt in a manner that only this boy with white hair would be able to see. Unless there were other angel and demon type forces around, these two were in a world all their own that no other human would be able to comprehend or even visualize.
He whipped out a hand to grab roughly the paler one's wrist, pulling the boy forward until their foreheads touched. A lower voice growled, "I never gave you permission to touch me, Angel." The hand was wretched away as he took a step back, rubbing at his lower lip. The more distance he got from his enemy, the better he felt. Once Cry had brushed a hand against his arm, his need to overtake Sort's body just . . . exploded.
No matter. Right to business; he didn't need a young, heavenly creature attempting to kill him, an incubus, off. "Look, just so you wipe that ugly, confused look off your face--you know what I am. In fact, long time no see."
A smile. But it was nowhere near as precious as his other form with kind, blue eyes; this smile was a tease, and almost lustful. "But I don't need you meddling in my life. Stay clear of me and we'll both pretend this encounter never happened, alright? Neither of us are even supposed to be on Earth at all."
He hadn't been out like this in a while. Normally, he'd just been provoked to have this side show once he'd been under too much libido--and even then his wings never came out. But this was an exception. That and he took pleasure in seeing others' reactions to them, especially someone as wrongly beautiful as Crybaby was.
((Not confusing at all :3
and I don't mind if he's even worse towards Cry |D)
Crybaby took a quick step back, his eyes widening when he suddenly saw two, no... three wings spreading on the other's back. Two looked like angel ones... but the third, a demon one?
So this has been the familiar, but somehow awkward feeling earlier.
The next second, the white-haired, smaller boy wrinkled his eyebrows and gasped when Sortsand grabbed his wrist strongly.
"Ah..." his grip hurt. His red eyes so close of his... now somehow the complete opposite...
Crybaby wasn't surprised that the other one knew what he was... he had probably seen his wings.
He took his own wrist when it was released again, looking at the other one with a first still a bit frightened gaze, which became more sad though. He lowered his gaze a bit. Who was the true one, the blue-eyed man or the red-eyed one... both? He took a step forward again but then stood still.
"I'm sorry I caused you uneasiness..." he murmured.
They weren't supposed to be on Earth? Oh yes he shouldn't have been so weak then he probably wouldn't have landed here. It hadn't been his decision to be here... but His.
Though in fact, if he had not landed here, on Earth he never would have met him.
His blue eyes then slowly looked at him again, a little, sad smile marking his gentle face.
"But... maybe we could be friends?"
He couldn't help but bark up
Feeling like he had gotten his point and response to that across, he went on, "You can have a gay old time with my counterpart birthed from some stupid concussion all you want. But with me, no. As soon as I figure out how to claim this entire body instead of just the half, anyway, he won't even exist--so your efforts will be pretty damn fruitless in the end if you try."
He ran his thumb across his lower lip again while red eyes drifted up to the sky in a roll, sighing lazily with a cocked hip supporting his other hand. His bangs fell before his right pupil yet he, unlike his 'other half' would have, didn't push it back. This probably made him look all the more uncaring and crude... "You may be sorry, but I'm not. I am only here to tell you that if you don't get the hell out of my life, then I'll simply make your life the hell you're trying to make mine." Three wings unfolded to their full extent then: one eagle, one dragon, and one angel, as unfitting as it seemed. "Now then, if there aren't any questions, let me help you remember my face."
As if he needed any more emphasis to that, he stepped forward--and extended his hand as if to slap Crybaby. But as a last-second thought, he simply gripped at the back of white hair so that the touch of heavenly skin wouldn't hurt him so much. He glared down at that pale face now wrenched back in a frown, hissing, "I hope all of your nightmares from here on out involve me fucking you until you bleed."
(( ,___," AHH you asked for it... incubus!Sort is a bastarddd . . . ))
((yeah haha |D)) But there
But there still was a good part in him... he wasn't only bad. He wasn't a full incubus was he? He somehow wanted to help this good part, but how?
He looked at him with a more and more worried gaze, listening to his words.
But... couldn't there be any chance?
He gulped and winced when Sortsand suddenly approached, and when he seemed like he was going to slap him at any time he quickly squinted his eyes, but then opened them again in surprise when he felt his strong hand grabbing his long hair. "Uh..."
He started to shiver strongly at his words and his glare.
"B-but..." he babbled fearfully... he wanted to help that man.
(( AHH SO LONG sorry )) His
His frown deepened for just a moment, but he finally let go of Crybaby and his hair after a few long seconds of waiting for more of a response. Granted, Cry was undoubtedly an Angel--but he didn't seem like one he would have to worry too much about. Most would try battling him on the spot. So if this pale boy simply wanted to attempt at making friends and wasting his time, he may as well just return and continue figuring out how to erase this other side of him. So much damn annoyance in his gritty life right now.
A shrug as he gave an over-exaggerated sigh. "Since I take it you've grown to have at least some fear of me... I'll be back."
Sort ran a hand through dark hair as his wings receded, the skin of his shoulder blades tense as they gradually tucked into invisibility. Purple irises, then blue--he had to hunch forward for a moment, tripping limply just once as he hugged at his arms and regained consciousness.
When he'd opened eyes the same shade as the Angel's, he found himself on his knees with that very same feeling of a back bleeding slightly about the slits his wings had flowered from. It stung like something unexplainable, yet it was the only sign he had of knowing that he'd just gone through that 'bi-polar' thing his mental doctor was trying to persuade him into believing.
Two personalities, right...?
It wasn't possible.
Sort looked up suddenly, taking in a short, cold breath as he stumbled up to straighten himself. Instinctively, he shuddered through a wince as his back stretched through the flex and more burned pain. The stranger was still here, but--why? He looked so confused yet relieved about something. Granted, he'd blacked out for a time, but . . .
. . . he pulled his shirt closer about his chest as if that would be able to hide the new, red-stained tears in his shirt, walking backwards in a voice drowned with embarrassment. "I'm sorry--I'll go."
Crybaby couldn't say anything
His own breath got calmer though when he noticed Sort being back to normal again. He watched him with a worried gaze but didn't dare to move, not wanting to cause any more trouble.
"M-maybe... I could help you..." he babbled quickly.
What? He had been leaving.
He had been leaving. For the second time, now--even though this stranger now seemed so familiar to him that 'stranger' seemed the wrong title, he felt the need to make his exit. He felt he had been bothering him. He felt . . . so odd. But how was this boy able to make that out? Were his eyes really so expressive that he figured he needed the help that he truthfully and really did need?
"Help me?" It sounded off to ask something so simple, but he couldn't make sense of what this new acquaintance of his was trying to do. That, and he needed to find bandages for his back. This wasn't going to be a waste of time, right...? But it was his fault for being polite and waiting for an explanation at all, so he turned to allow a few more seconds of speech to pass between them. It was only fair.
"With what? I'm fine, sir..."
A lie.
Crybaby had eventually
"You have a dark shadow in your inside... which hurts you." he said slowly. He really worried for this man... what would happen if the dark side would take over?
"Don't you... feel it?" he asked curiously.
Sort's pupils dilated for
A shadow...?
Moreover, could he feel it? No. Not at all. Of course he was aware there was something wrong with him, and that there was "something" there, but a shadow? It didn't make sense. If this was some sort of American humor then he didn't understand it at all and felt awkward for not laughing at the younger boy's joke. Truthfully, he muttered during a shrug, "I have no idea what you're talking about. Look, I--have to aid to my back, so..."
...I want to go home. To a home...
He didn't seem to know
Of course Crybaby could help him with his back... but what if he would touch him again. He didn't know if it would only make things worse.
"Huh... " he lowered his gaze, he knew he couldn't help this man right now.
"You must not let it oppress you..." he looked up at the man again with worried eyes.
((Trackitytrack~ I feel like
(( GingerNut~! 8D You ARE at
Sort stood straighter. "Opress me..." A pause, swallowing his own whisper--then, "How can you sound so certain that there's some shadow in me?"
Granted, the fact that Sortsand was questioning this option at all only proved how much he knew there was something ill about his mind, and how much he craved obsessively for an answer. Any theory would do. Whereas most people would find Cry a bit of a creep for mentioning a 'shadow' in them at all and simply walk away from it... the darker character here needed him. He didn't know it now or yet, but he did. Would.
It was uncalled for. Questioning a stranger quietly through an exhale something like this just because he had such a 'meant to be' aura about him... but he couldn't help it. If there was just one adjective to describe our taller male, it would be desperate. "Can you... help me...?"
"It happened some minutes
He sighed and lowered his gaze. He first didn't know if he should tell him but it probably was the best he could do.
"It's... it's an incubus... it wants to take possession of you're mind and body."
Help him? He lifted his gaze towards the other man again. He would help him at any time, but...
"I would help you. But it seemed like I brought him towards the surface when I touched you..." he said slowly and insecure.
Unless the boy with white
Despite a stinging back still bleeding--if not, oddly, more now than it was before--he had to press on. He had to fake like everything Cry had just told him was normal and refuse breaking down as much as he wanted to. The only change were his eyes sharper than before out of realization, and a voice still tense with nerves. The embarrassment also lingered. "It must have been a mistake; when you touched me, it just happened to come out with ironic timing." A pause. Why did he have to be such a liar about his own confidence? He wanted to ask questions, not try to get this stranger to take part in figuring out what in heaven or hell was wrong with him. Trying to persuade physical contact again so that the other could tend aid to his wounds was so off-cue, even now... he was just as much of a stranger as he was when they'd walked into each other.
He knew it was weird. He got the same feeling. But he was pressing his luck, still desperate as ever. "You could always try again, or... I really--if--I'm annoying, or something.. I can help myself; I usually do. I..." ...sound like a fool.
Ceasing to talk anymore, he hung his head, running a hand through his hair to push the bangs out of his right eye with a loud exhale of discontainment.
Another cigarette craving went ignored.
(( oh man, long again D> I'm sorry. ))
"I'm afraid it will happen
"I could help you with your back... I just hope it won't come out again." he looked up at the other's face, giving him a comforting, little smile.
"You're not annoying at all. Hm by the way... I'm sorry that I didn't introduce me yet. My name is... Crybaby. What is yours?" he was a bit reluctant to tell him his name... but he didn't want to lie now. He walked around him to look at his back, frowning when he saw the bad, bleeding wound.
((It's okay :3 I'm often writing awfully short ;;))
Without thinking, his name
He was stupid to be giving out his full name like that. While his first name was the same entitlement of his "blue-eyed self" and "red-eyed self", his last name had been an accidental mumble of disbelief when the nurses asked for a surname. If anybody knew the Nordic language, the whole meaning would come out as an eerie black sand, three wings.
Something about knowing Crybaby's name brought more confidence to him, however--first and foremost being he wasn't so embarassed about his own name, either. Not after hearing one like that. But he said nothing of it out of odd taste for that being somewhat adorable and fitting for the stranger. Very easy to remember, anyway.
He trusted him. So much. And he'd no clue why...
Standing still, he continued, "He will not come out." A soft fist was placed over his heart, back still straight as a pole for Cry to examine. "I can feel it. It's just me, for now. Maybe he's... asleep, or something..." But how could he be? Saying all this made it sound like he accepted the fact that there was, apparently, a damned demon. Inside his own skin. Didn't this have something to do with... exorcists...?
Impossible.
Still, he refused it's existence--in the conscious, anyway. Unconsciously, he believed... and he knew. But he went along with it for now despite that.
Sortsand Trevinger... what a
"Hm then I shall try it... stay still." he faced Sort's back, slowly approaching his hands on the wounds. He carefully laid them against the spots where the wings had showed up earlier. This was going to be difficult... he could feel the bad energy in it.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, fully concentrating on the healing-process.
He let his own, yes... his own energy flow into the body of the taller man. There was nothing to see but the slow recovering of the wounds. He had to repress the bad energy of the incubus, clearly feeling it.
He slowly felt this headache coming again, dizziness as well. But he tried to ignore it for now, he didn't want to help him only halfway. He wrinkled his eyebrows in concentration, his own energy slowly decreasing.
Had Sort any idea that
Whether Cry was done or not yet, he uttered, "Thank you." Still straight and unmoving. Just in case.
The usual feeling that sat in his stomach--his incubus, to name it loosely--also went just a bit limper upon having an Angel's power rest upon him. It wasn't enough at all to kill the other side altogether--and never would be--but it helped. Everything his new friend did could help.
If he was enough to be called a friend just yet, anyway. They'd only just met. And there was a side of them that feared the other; wasn't that just . . . wrong? That wasn't friendship.
Acquaintance, then. A familiar face and name. Maybe that's all they ever really would be to each other...
Crybaby, in fact, would
"Y-you're welcome..." he murmured with a weak smile, slowly taking his hands away. The pain in his head strongly hammered like a circle around it...
He blinked a bit. Too bad he always was too weak to do something properly, he hated this so much, he couldn't even take a full use of his pathetic healing powers without getting worse himself. And this here hadn't just been a small wound, it was the one caused by a creature from Hell itself.
But he didn't mind as long as the other one got less injured.
"I... I hope you're feeling better..." he mumbled slowly, taking a step back. His view was so blurry, Everything seemed to displace and swivel around... not that he saw much anyway in the darkness. But nevertheless...
"Uh..." his view completely blackened the next moment... and he fell.
The moment he'd heard the
As he spoke he had taken out another cigarette. It was rare for him to smoke twice in a day, but with his anxiety--
Shit--!
. . . Caught. Though his drug's lighter had just barely sparked against the other's shoulder out of a fumbled attempt to catch Cry, the cloth on the boy's shoulder had burnt a bit. Not too noticeable, but at the moment, that was the least of his worries through accident. "Crybaby?" Weird name, he had to admit. It was cute when the white-haired other said it, but once he himself uttered it, he felt like he was putting the other down.
Right--fainting people. In a mental hurry, Sort had to try to recall any information from his forgotten past and some knowledge to try and remember what to do about helping them. Pushing away the wonder over why he'd pass out like this in the first place was difficult yet he managed to at least hypothesize that Cry was going to need somewhere to lie down. And depending on how severe this was, he might need a bed and a washcloth on his forehead...
...but that would mean having to carry him home. "Home"--that run-down apartment that was as cheap as dirt came was more of an embarassment than he'd bargained for. But wasn't his new friend's health so much more important than how he felt about where he was forced to sleep?
Yes. Well--yes . . he shifted to kick his lighter out of their path, dropping his pack of other cigarettes as well in order to gingerly pick up the fallen Angel. Had his back still been wounded while doing this it would have been impossible through pain.
What an opposite outcome this was.
Regardless, all he could do now was start up walking home again in a quicker pace.
(( UNNECESSARILY LONG AGAINNNN I MUST STOP THIS LOL ))
((HOKAY. I'll stop bein' all
((NO DON'T STOP THE LONG
This gonna be short |D -fails-))
Crybaby didn't hear him calling his name, drown in complete darkness for now.
Thanks God Sort has not just let him go by himself, this would have turned out bad.
Well he didn't really have another choice, the strength Cry had been using has been huge, no wonder he has gotten unconscious quite quickly after healing.
Sithrim wouldn't like this... he surely was worrying for him already. But at least he wasn't alone... at least someone carried for him.
(( 8'D AHMG
This was his usual outing. Having found the fridge empty of any beer, our character took no thought at all in deciding it was time to drop everything and buy another case. Really, it was some new wonder of the world how he and his roommate could down so much of it and not have any side-effects. Sometimes it was nothing but pure ecstasy to be so Lithuanian--and his partner, German. His Baltic country was completely overlooked when it came to people who could stomach the most alcohol.
He liked to gloat that he could hold it better than anyone with a serious lip and eye.
...Honestly, it could be the truth. It just seemed impossible with his toned build.
To add to this day's rarity came the fact that he was wearing his hair down (probably out of laziness) rather than in it's usual pony, pulling it's holder out to run a hand through the layers. He got a lot of looks from the few people out so early in the hour thanks to it's unique cut and color.
After this--in a jacket just barely unfitted for extra comfort--he slid both gloved hands into its pockets, exhaling a cloud of warmth into the chill. There was something pretty about the crispness outside on this morning that most other people would find annoying; and as cocky as our near red-headed Code was, he did find beauty in things. Deep down, he was actually somewhat borderline feminine.
Yet, despite this, he became quickly bored. To this he decided to cover the quiet with a skilled whistle of Vaidas's Tiktai Tu, slowing his stroll to the market in order to kick a small pebble down the sidewalk with every other stride.
It took a few minutes to get
If they asked, he'd lie that they were brothers. He'd fallen asleep after playing at the park.
Though that wouldn't cover the scratched in his still-stained shirt.
No matter. He had sat up front with Cry leaning against his side for the short ride, avoiding the driver and other in silence. Some turns later he'd found himself outside with the run-down building he slept in finally on the near horizon. Good thing, too, because the stiff air of that transportation was slowly getting to his head; outside was much better. He'd always favored the night's cricket lull.
Inside was just as you'd expect. Some poorly-lit, wooden, old, stuffy, four-walled home about the size of any other child's room. But adding in the fact that he had to fit a bathroom and kitchen all into this space came the sad realization of very little space, cramped with dust and stains everywhere that he had no idea as to where they'd come. It wasn't his house; he was renting it. Which made him poor. If he had money he'd install another window, too, because the only one that was in there was small and had a poor excuse of a view.
Crybaby was set onto his bed hardly even comfortable enough to be called such. Maybe it was a cot. Whatever it was, the mattress was flat and lifeless--so the pillows were fluffed and any blankets he found were used for better support. Anything to cover up this trash of a place, anyway...
Bringing back that thought-up wash cloth wet with cold water, Sort drew a chair up to the bed's side, draping it over a paler forehead after having moved white bangs out of the way. "Cry...?" he tried again.