[right][h2][color=8493ca]Damien's Catharsis[/color][/h2][@Stanifly][@Tlazolteotl][@DaftJive][/right]

[color=8493ca][b]"Ahhh...."[/b] Damien's gaze slid downward to the side. The wyrm was speaking to him but after catching his name, Damien was unable to hold onto the rest of what Vicis said. It was like each word increased in physical density in succession before melting and sliding off of his brain without being retained. [b]"...Yeah,"[/b] was what he eventually settled on.

He spotted the human in their company out of the corner of his eye. Weird. He hadn't seen a human look so, well, [i]human[/i] before. Maybe this wasn't really Hell, or another Hell. Or, actually, maybe it was the next Hell and all the sinners ended up looking like themselves again. But whatever this "wyrm" thing was? He hadn't seen anything like it in any of the seven rings. At least, he was sure he didn't remember seeing anything like it.

Damien took another sip of his drink. The alcohol was warm on its way down. Sluggish. Damien set his glass down heavily and pushed it toward the bartender. [b]"Actually, could I have something else? Do you got coffee?"[/b] He spoke with the slightest slur, but he was nowhere near buzzed. He labored to speak. His bones felt like they were made of stone. It was honestly a bit hard to keep track of everything happening in front of him, and he was aware that there really wasn't that much going on. [i]Oh Satan.[/i] He was really hoping to not have to feel like this anymore.

Remembering he was in company, Damien spoke again. [b]"I don't think it's much of a 'grace' to your presence. Where I just came from..."[/b] [i]...I'm the fucking lower class.[/i] But he stopped talking. It was effortful and meaningless, anyway.[/color]