Kiel watches the boy carefully while he contemplates his answer doing his best to not weird him out by staring. 'Many of the kids have told me that on the streets a lingering gaze normally means trouble.' Over the years Kiel has become a master of watching people while focusing somewhere else. It's always seemed to calm the street kids down a bit when they aren't the direct focus of attention, leading to a lot of the saying he's very easy to talk to. 'Even if he is a little different from most' he muses, looking jut off to the side of the boy, 'Doesn't mean he doesn't have all the same troubles and fears that the rest of them have' Setting his tea down he smiles when Zach finally responds.
'I'm glad he agrees, but something about his response makes me worry that he may be afraid of my fellow priests' His brows furrow slightly as he talks and he can feel his sympathy growing. 'I think I'm right. I think he doesn't want to be preached at. I know a lot of my fellows seem to be nothing more than walking soapboxes, casting judgment and damnation like stale popcorn to pigeons. Perhaps he's already met a few of them' He takes another sip of his tea, making not of but visibly ignoring his blush as he tries to figure out what to say next. Setting down the drink he picks up his fork in one hand, but just as he raises it to grab another bite he seems to hesitate, looking over to the young man once more.
“You will find no judgments in this house.” His voice is soft, but his tone is resolute. “I may live on church grounds, but this is my home. None of my fellow priests would dare speak out against my rules in my own home.” He shifts his gaze to look directly at Zach. “If you'd rather not hear from those of the church all you need to do is come inside. This is your sanctuary. The Head Priest has given me leave to do as I please, and it is my fondest wish to help kids like yourself.” He smiles wide, a slight smirk on the edge of his mouth. “And if that means fighting off each and every one of my fellows to defend a single one of my kids, I'll do it.” He turns to his food, his smile softer but still in place. “You are who you are, and all I want to do is help you become what you want to be, and keep you safe all the while.” He chuckles lightly. “I know you kids are tough, the coddling is an insult, but I can't help how I feel. . .” With that he goes back to eating, the small smile still playing at the corners of his lips.
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Illusion Master - Hides his looks nowadays because they have always gotten him teased(Hair blond, eyes green) but after joining the team will change back to black and red.
Shape Shifting Troublemaker - He would most often appear in his host's dream to cause mischief, but because he never was a part of or caused nightmares, he was rescued by a newbie minion and brought to the dream realm a long time ago.
May I assume if Viltez "Shows him to the bedroom" that Aryx will follow?
Thanks, I will try, and yeah, that's what my sister says. :P
My stomach is trying to come out of my nose and my sister is on the rag so I'm having sympathy cramps even though I'm a guy. She's my twin by the way. Makes thinking very hard.
He gives a little nod when asked about where he keeps his tail during the day, his body still recovering from the feeling of fingers caressing it. Not trusting himself to speak Viltez instead listens, chewing lightly on his lip. 'I could feel it when he flexed his arm, but it felt a lot different than when he used his fingers on it. I wonder why it feels so different. How come I never did anything with it? Somehow I feel really silly now for going so long without using it. . .' His self loathing session is interrupted by more questions from the stranger. It takes a few seconds for him to catch what he was saying and he chides himself for not listening. “Um, yeah, I can feel the cloth against the fur. It lets me know it's in place. I kinda rely on the feeling actually, to stay calm in public. . . .”
His voice trails off as once again Aryx reaches for the appendage. It was just starting to relax when he sinks his fingers into the fur and begins drawing them up the length. He tries desperately to keep focused on tracking how what felt where, but the sensation becomes too much as he begins brushing the part wrapped around his arm. A low keening comes out of him and a flush rushes to his cheeks. Even he recognized the burning feeling the races into his loins at the elongated touch. 'Oh god, I get it now. It's not because it's a new sensation, it's specifically because it's a hand touching it that I'm reacting like this' He turns his flushed face shamefully to his guest and lets out breathy noise. 'How the hell am I going to get him to stop if I can't speak?'
Carefully he brings up a hand, begging for a halt, but at that point he's already reached the end of his tail. Using his well trained control of himself he managed to mumble, “I, um, gimme sec.” before turning all of his will on to the tail, trying to force it to let go. It does not react immediately but after half a minute it begins uncoiling and sliding back across the table. By then Viltez once again has control of most of his faculties. Shifting a bit uncomfortably he gives the man a smile, his cheeks still rather red. “Sorry about that, the feeling was just a little too much. I, uh, did notice that right around the end, the last few inches or so, were definitely less sensitive. Thanks for your help on that.” He realizes he's rambling, but for the most part it's a desperate attempt to calm his body down.
Glancing at the window he notes how dark it is, but with the rain there is no telling how late it really is. He hums lightly as if trying to think of something then slowly stand and with a little bow excuses himself to the washroom. Once inside he begins breathing hard, wandering over to the spigot and pumping the handle so he can get some cold water. As soon as it starts pouring he hold his hands under it and begins splashing his face. It's not the first time Viltez has felt like this, but the experience if far more intense than the short little thrills forced upon him by some of the town girls. Soon enough his breathing returns to normal and he lets the water stop flowing. After drying off carefully he gives himself a little nod in the mirror and moves back into the little hall. Stopping by a little alcove filled with shelves he grabs up a could spare blankets and takes them out into the main area. He smiles as if nothing happened and shows him his armload of blankets. “Got some extras in case it gets chilly tonight!” Moving over to the bench he sets them down at the foot before moving around tot he table. “Done with your drink? Or would you like another before we settle in for the night?”
His voice trails off as once again Aryx reaches for the appendage. It was just starting to relax when he sinks his fingers into the fur and begins drawing them up the length. He tries desperately to keep focused on tracking how what felt where, but the sensation becomes too much as he begins brushing the part wrapped around his arm. A low keening comes out of him and a flush rushes to his cheeks. Even he recognized the burning feeling the races into his loins at the elongated touch. 'Oh god, I get it now. It's not because it's a new sensation, it's specifically because it's a hand touching it that I'm reacting like this' He turns his flushed face shamefully to his guest and lets out breathy noise. 'How the hell am I going to get him to stop if I can't speak?'
Carefully he brings up a hand, begging for a halt, but at that point he's already reached the end of his tail. Using his well trained control of himself he managed to mumble, “I, um, gimme sec.” before turning all of his will on to the tail, trying to force it to let go. It does not react immediately but after half a minute it begins uncoiling and sliding back across the table. By then Viltez once again has control of most of his faculties. Shifting a bit uncomfortably he gives the man a smile, his cheeks still rather red. “Sorry about that, the feeling was just a little too much. I, uh, did notice that right around the end, the last few inches or so, were definitely less sensitive. Thanks for your help on that.” He realizes he's rambling, but for the most part it's a desperate attempt to calm his body down.
Glancing at the window he notes how dark it is, but with the rain there is no telling how late it really is. He hums lightly as if trying to think of something then slowly stand and with a little bow excuses himself to the washroom. Once inside he begins breathing hard, wandering over to the spigot and pumping the handle so he can get some cold water. As soon as it starts pouring he hold his hands under it and begins splashing his face. It's not the first time Viltez has felt like this, but the experience if far more intense than the short little thrills forced upon him by some of the town girls. Soon enough his breathing returns to normal and he lets the water stop flowing. After drying off carefully he gives himself a little nod in the mirror and moves back into the little hall. Stopping by a little alcove filled with shelves he grabs up a could spare blankets and takes them out into the main area. He smiles as if nothing happened and shows him his armload of blankets. “Got some extras in case it gets chilly tonight!” Moving over to the bench he sets them down at the foot before moving around tot he table. “Done with your drink? Or would you like another before we settle in for the night?”
I'm not feeling well, so sorry it may take a few more days to get up a response, sorry again. . . .
It's not actually an RP, it's the OOC FOR the RP, and it's starting to get ridiculous. But, that is neither here nor there, so let's get back to us! So, um. . . . .I think it's almost character time.
No problem, I am patient. I'm not mad.
Name: Kurotama(Kuro for short)
Race: Demon
Age: Unknown
Height: 6' 7”
Weight: 156lbs
Hair: Black, strait, waist length in the back, shaggy on top but still at lease four inches long just messy looking.(Punk rocker without the frizzyness)
Eyes: Very dark red.
Skin: Very lightly tanned.
Build: Slender but with broad shoulders.
Clothes: A white loin cloth. The dangly kind.
Accessories: None.
Powers/Skills(If Applicable): Can traverse the interdemnsional pathways, steal human souls, and manipulate energy to create anything he wants. Has a retractable set of black bat wings that allow him to fly and increase his power when exposed. Uses black energy created from human souls to fight with.
General Personality: Kurotama is a bit stubborn and obstinate. He hates being treated like a child and his temper flares often when teased about being the baby in the “family”. Otherwise he is a rather calm guy who prefers either intelligent company, or to be alone. He doesn't trust anyone, having never been given a reason to, and around his older siblings he acts much like a drenched cat. He loves animals and has always wanted ones of his own, but his position has made him hide this love for a long time. He is unapologetic for what he is, but he bares no real strong negative emotions towards those on the heavenly sphere.
Background: As the youngest son in a long line of children sired by the king of hell, Kurotama has absolutely no real standing there, and his birth was rather unexpected. He was allowed to grow up in the palace for no better reason then there are plenty who would love to get their hands on his to force his father's hand. No matter how it came to be, the king of hell is obligated to take care of his own, even if the extent of that is simply to keep them alive. He was tormented and picked on not only by his siblings, but many of the higher level demons that would visit the palace would make sport with him, which is what lead to him spending most of his time in hell's library. It was there that his love of books was born. After reading everything there he used the Rosetta tome to read books from earth. Once he was old enough he began traveling to earth itself, sight seeing and library hopping. He would take souls as they presented themselves, but he did very little actual hunting. He was too busy having fun and only took souls to keep his father from calling him back to question him on the matter. However his rather complacent attitude caught the attention of heaven and after a particularly lean stretch where he was most vulnerable he was captured and dragged back to heaven for questioning. He was stripped of all his belongings including his family crest which identifies him as Satan kin, and now just lives in fear. His will remains unbroken, but at times he can not hold back the tears brought about by the pain.
Race: Demon
Age: Unknown
Height: 6' 7”
Weight: 156lbs
Hair: Black, strait, waist length in the back, shaggy on top but still at lease four inches long just messy looking.(Punk rocker without the frizzyness)
Eyes: Very dark red.
Skin: Very lightly tanned.
Build: Slender but with broad shoulders.
Clothes: A white loin cloth. The dangly kind.
Accessories: None.
Powers/Skills(If Applicable): Can traverse the interdemnsional pathways, steal human souls, and manipulate energy to create anything he wants. Has a retractable set of black bat wings that allow him to fly and increase his power when exposed. Uses black energy created from human souls to fight with.
General Personality: Kurotama is a bit stubborn and obstinate. He hates being treated like a child and his temper flares often when teased about being the baby in the “family”. Otherwise he is a rather calm guy who prefers either intelligent company, or to be alone. He doesn't trust anyone, having never been given a reason to, and around his older siblings he acts much like a drenched cat. He loves animals and has always wanted ones of his own, but his position has made him hide this love for a long time. He is unapologetic for what he is, but he bares no real strong negative emotions towards those on the heavenly sphere.
Background: As the youngest son in a long line of children sired by the king of hell, Kurotama has absolutely no real standing there, and his birth was rather unexpected. He was allowed to grow up in the palace for no better reason then there are plenty who would love to get their hands on his to force his father's hand. No matter how it came to be, the king of hell is obligated to take care of his own, even if the extent of that is simply to keep them alive. He was tormented and picked on not only by his siblings, but many of the higher level demons that would visit the palace would make sport with him, which is what lead to him spending most of his time in hell's library. It was there that his love of books was born. After reading everything there he used the Rosetta tome to read books from earth. Once he was old enough he began traveling to earth itself, sight seeing and library hopping. He would take souls as they presented themselves, but he did very little actual hunting. He was too busy having fun and only took souls to keep his father from calling him back to question him on the matter. However his rather complacent attitude caught the attention of heaven and after a particularly lean stretch where he was most vulnerable he was captured and dragged back to heaven for questioning. He was stripped of all his belongings including his family crest which identifies him as Satan kin, and now just lives in fear. His will remains unbroken, but at times he can not hold back the tears brought about by the pain.
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