[center][color=gold][h1][b]Giovanni Lionson[/b][/h1][/color]
[@Medjedovic]
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[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rNYo6UFYCsM[/youtube][/center]
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Vanni frowned as he waited quietly. As he leaned against the warehouse, he had seen some boys fighting it out in the streets. He stopped them but he knew they would do it again. His dreadlocks swayed in the wind, eyes unblinking as he stared at the large, wooden doors. Such youth had no place fighting in a gang but this wasn't Earth. This wasn't some moral utopia of rainbows and unicorns. This was some bullshit afterlife that replaced heaven or hell. He was never going to see his loved ones, see how his child grow up, watch as his wife got even more beautiful after every single day. No. Instead he was in the streets, as a fuckin' fantasy creature, doing quests.

'[color=gold][i]It isn't fucking fair![/i][/color]' He was the one chosen to do menial work. He was the one chosen to die in some fantasy battle somewhere or bleed out in a quest. He was chosen to be a monster, chosen to leave his family and everything he knew. He was never going to see his uncle again, as he told him a story about his drinking adventures. He was never going to see his mother again, as she greeted him with a crushing hug after a year of not seeing her. He was never going to see Sophia again, as she held him tight in her arms, breathing softly against his chest. He was told to leave that all behind to help some other shit world.

Emotions ran wild after his life vanished before him, the weight of his situation had just hit him. Over the past four days, he had worried about food and water, to find shelter among the looming towers of Yazai. He had worried too much about his own insatiable hunger, his thirst for a sweet nectar his lips had never touched, to bite the neck of some beast or even a man. To sink his teeth into flesh. And now that his hunger has been satisfied, he had time to think. And he hated thinking.

He felt this ripping in his chest, the painful, constant arousal and the butterflies he felt as he thought about Sophia. How she smiled at him as she walked down the aisle, her flowing white gown giving her an ethereal beauty. How her breath felt against his chest as their bodies melted together. How she kissed him everyday, one before work and one after and how it still meant something after three years of marriage. The constant throb of a headache mixed in with the absolutely painful, straining erection added to the emotional pain that he felt as he thought about the life he left behind made him angry. Angry at how unfair it is. Angry at how he was chosen.

"[color=gold]Dis is sum fuckin' bullshit right here.[/color]" He muttered quietly, arms crossed against his chest, golden aura flaming around him. As he mourned about the loss of his life, his ears twitched as he heard the sound of footsteps coming from the inside of the warehouse. He stepped away from the wall and stood across the door. He heard a timid, youthful voice filled with fake bravado speak up. "[b]Who are you?[/b]"

He frowned again but kept his thoughts to himself. Another youth? He flexed his fingers, joints cracking. How should he respond? Introduce himself and say why he was here? He thought about it for a full thirty seconds before readying himself. He was to go the friendly route. There was no point in enacting hostility. But even still, he began singing [i]Buffalo Soldier[/i] by Bob Marley, using his layering voice so it could only be heard if someone was too listen carefully enough. His aura flickered, finger tingled but nothing major yet. He introduced himself "[color=gold]I'm Vanni, an adventurer and came ta help ya mon. Heard dat ya havin' sum trouble with da bigger gangs mon.[/color]"

He wasn't sure if he should help these upstarts. Maybe he should just kill them all and take their leader's head to the highest bidder. They weren't even real. Just some NPC's in some bullshit afterlife. This was not Earth. It was a game some omnipotent God made to screw with him. Still, he hesitated. As he waited for a response, he wondered where the thought of [i]killing children[/i] came from. It was frightening.