[center][color=gold][h1][b]Giovanni Lionson[/b][/h1][/color] [img]http://img05.deviantart.net/3193/i/2015/109/2/9/jah_by_daver2002ua-d6u3tah.jpg[/img] [hr] [youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2fx7p7TEi6M[/youtube][/center] [hr] There was a deep, low grumble. A fiery predator, claws, eyes, spikes and all jumped out at him with a menacing hun- "[color=gold]Hey mon, do you have any idea where the Palepi Imps are?[/color]" asked the brightly coloured Giovanni, standing in front of a very old homeless man. Well, man wasn't really the right word. More like [i]lizard[/i]man. The lizardman looked up at him with wide eyes and pointed at his face, dreadlocks and all. He tried to calm the bearded dragon-thingie but he just picked up his things and ran like no tomorrow. The adventurer merely looked down at himself, muscled body, bright green sleeveless shirt, shorts and sandals. There wasn't anything threatening about him, was there? '[color=gold][i]Oh yeah, I'm a bloody lion.[/i][/color]' He had arrived at this damnable place three days ago, having awoken in some dingy town after his resurrection. He thought it was a joke at first, some reality show about what a man would do when he thought he died and awoke in a fantasy world. Well, that's what he thought until he looked into his reflection. He was shocked, at first, he thought that the "create a character" deal was some vision from all the joints he'd smoked a night before. Then the shock turned into pleasant surprise. He had based his face on the famous reggae lion, dreadlocks and all. Though he didn't have any headphones to listen to any beats, he looked cool. And he had powers. His stomach growled once more, his hunger for meat grew. His eyes flickered tiredly from where the homeless man was, dreadlocks raised in the wind. It was one of the lonelier parts of the city, dark alleyways, thugs and all. It was what he was used to. Sighing, he shoved his hands into his pockets and walked through the lonely streets. With each step, the beast inside him grew. His mouth salivated at the sight of meat, from the birds in the sky to the children playing in the playground. With hunger, came the thirst of blood on his fangs. With the thirst, came disgust in himself. Three days of no food would be discomforting but not difficult for humans. For Leon's however, no food meant deathly hunger. The pain was excruciating, he always had that urge to bite into anyone's open neck. '[color=gold]Maybe I didn't choose the right race...[/color]' His thoughts were full of doubt as with each step, the pain got worse and worse. Passing by a dark alleyway, he heard screaming in the dark. Peering into the shadows, he found a horrifying scene. Two large oafs cornered this little girl or maybe a Halfling woman? He was never sure in this world. The dark gleam in their eyes, large hands reaching out to her. He had never been a hero before. Why start now? He could walk away and look for food and ignore this girl. Food... He grinned. He could do both. He leaned on the wall next to the entrance, hearing the screams and struggles of the girl inside. Feeling the power inside him, he began singing. He started the beat of the song, his soul flaring slightly. He had experimented with this trick, it was useful. He felt a small tingle inside, heart pumping a little faster than normal. He sang, hands beating on his muscular legs. [center]"[color=gold]I know this little girl Her name is Maxine Her beauty is Like a bunch of rose If I ever tell you 'bout Maxine You would a say I don't know what I know (But)[/color]"[/center] He sang quite loudly but not enough to put the oafs out of there stupor. A birdman took notice of him singing and raised an eyebrow before continuing it walk. He was mostly alone. He felt a tingle on his fingertips, heart pumping fast-like. [center]"[color=gold]Murder she wrote (Fi real fi real) Murder she wrote Murder she wrote Murder she wrote[/color]" "[color=gold]Watch ya now, it name A pretty face and bad character Dem the kinda livin Can't hold Chaka (Follow me) A pretty face And bad character Dem the kinda livin' Can't hold Chaka Seh gal yuh pretty Yuh face it pretty But yuh character dirty Gal yuh just act too flirty flirty Yuh run to Tom, Dick An' also Harry An when yuh find yuh mistake Yuh talk bout yuh sorry Sorry, sorry (Come now)[/color]"[/center] As he sung longer, the power in him grew, green and red flecks of power flickering around him. His skin had barely visible golden aura about it, glowing in the dark streets. He was beginning to gather a crowd, the strange and almost sweet sounding reggae was new to the people of this city, his voice echoing against the walls of the narrow street. The crowd began smiling, feeling a new type of happiness listening to the music. They felt a warm soothing feeling inside, feeling tingling in their fingertips. As he continued to sing, he felt stronger and stronger. He felt like he could lift a car, jump onto a two story building, run a 24-hour marathon. He felt the power seep everywhere, his voice getting louder and louder. He felt his head bob, dreadlocks going with the flow. He began dancing, inviting ladies up to dance with him. Or the common people, reggae was freedom. To these people, the rejects, the drunkards, the homeless, the prostitutes and the criminals, it was [i]power[/i]. He roused the crowd to sing with him, drowning out the screams and cries. He started to reach out towards her, filling her with power and strength. He felt one of the imbeciles grab her, putting rough hands on the soft, tear-stained cheeks. They haven't touched her much yet. '[color=gold]Let them feel the power of my reggae music![/color]' He was starting to finish, pumping the woman up with even more of his power, singing at the top of his lungs. The crowd gave him money, believing that he was a desperate, young singer, wanting some money. As he sang, he felt the girl in the alley realising her power, fighting back. A fist burying in a gut, a kick to the groin, a slap to the face. Teeth flew, blood splattered and bones cracked. Vanni laughed as he felt himself finish the song, the beat slowing down. As he finished up, he begun picking up the money and pocketing it in his pockets. Stealing from the poor? Maybe, but these people chose to do it. Sure they were hazed but even high people had consciousness. Kind of. [center]"[color=gold]Now yuh heard about This little girl her name is Maxine Her face is like a bunch of rose Man a if I ever tell you bout Maxine You would a say I don't Know what I know[/color]"[/center] There was a loud crash boom as one of the two thugs flew out of the dark, crashing into the wall. The crowd separated, coming out of the musical trance and running out of their. Moments later, as the street cleared, an irate near-naked woman, now identified as a Halfling, marched out dragging one of the oafs out of the alleyway. Clearing his throat, Vanni looked at the woman with a predatory grin. "[color=gold]Ma'am, I believe that they are [i]mine[/i].[/color]" She may not have understood what he meant but he flashed a fang. She understood perfectly. She raised a fist to punch the living shit out of him but it was held by a held out hand. Her power had been sucked out of her, returning her to her normal state. And compared to the highly muscular, powered Leon brawler, a Halfling's punch was nothing. He flashed another fang, scaring the woman away. He looked upon his prize, hunger like fire in his eyes. He opened his mouth, grabbing the thick man's head and placed it in his crushing jaws. And then he paused. "[color=gold]What the fuck am I doing?![/color]" He jumped away from the breathing man's body, wide eyes. His hunger pushed him on, telling him to deal the killing blow. Feast on his corpse, it said, quench your thirst. His humanity stopped him. He stared at his hands, flesh and human. But it was lie. He was no longer human. He was some lion vampire. So why did he stop now? Giovanni stared at the oaf's unconscious body before shaking his head, stripping the man of his trench coat and put it on himself before turning around. His stomach was growling again but he wasn't about to bite someone's head off. He buried his head into the coat, grabbed a joint from his short pockets and lit it up, taking a long drag. It was time to visit Yazai's largest arena.