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Post by SILAS WOLFGANG on Oct 28, 2013 17:45:43 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][bg=000000][atrb=width,500,true]— SILAS WOLFGANG "UNSUNG" HAN: 18 REI: 18 HAK: 12 SEI: 18 BUK: 12 HOH: 12 ;
Slowly, Silas uncurled his fingers... a steady trickle of thick red fluid descended from his fingertips, splashing against the already splattered floor as droplets fell in rapid sequence from the digits of his left hand.
The raven haired male then placed his paintbrush into a small can of water beside him. He was in an alleyway, standing in front of a fresh painting on the side of a local convenience store. It was a great red rose, and the red fluid trickling from his fingertips was some of the unique blend of reds he'd used to paint a lush and realistic color into the rose, giving it's petals a lifelike vibrancy.
Quickly discarding his tools, as he was technically committing vandalism, he snatched a clean bottle of water from atop a nearby rusty dumpster and emptied it's contents onto his hands, washing much of the paint off. He then took a white towel from beside the water bottle's former position and tossed the plastic husk into the dumpster, and then thoroughly dried his hands to grind any remainder of lingering paint off of himself. He then dropped the towel and stepped out of the alleyway, paying careful attention to the sky.
His red eyes looked troubled as they set on the clouds. The expression of his pale skinned visage was largely blank, but he was quite worried. It was very overcast today and if it rained, his paining would become a smeared mess for sure. He looked back and crossed his fingers before stepping out into the street.
The Fullbringer was clad in a red trench coat, his usual white dress shirt with the first few buttons down, and a pair of red slacks to match his coat's crimson color. The sudden winds he was exposed to upon exiting the safety of the alley lashed his long pitch black hair against his face, causing him to flinch and grumble with frustration. He rose his left hand to his face; it's ring finger was clad in an odd accessory not unlike the finger section of a gauntlet, but with the bottom of his fingertip exposed and a protrusion shaped as a raven's beak extending from it atop his nail. It was carved with morbid details, bone like textures mixed with shapes like raven feathers, all composed of an odd black substance unlike any sensible material. It exuded a chilling vibe, even as he did something so casual as shield his eyes from the chilling wind.
As the gust settled down, he lowered his hand and turned his back on the direction the harsh wind had blown from. He hated having dry eyes - and nothing inflicted that better on him than cool dry weather with winds and fits of gusts like this. His black polished shoes clicked against the pavement as he walked; though he had not noticed, a few specks of red paint were on the top of his left shoe.
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Post by Saito Nakai on Oct 29, 2013 21:21:46 GMT -5
Saito had found himself without work to do, yet again. It seemed as though his captain had taken care of paperwork - for that day, anyway. It wasn't as though he didn't appreciate his superior's efforts, though. In fact, he was rather thankful for her doing so. It was just that he was concerned bout how much she took upon herself - it was nothing to do with her age, as she had already proven capable. He was just concerned that someone would willingly do so much. And, though he wouldn't admit it, he was a little insulted that she hadn't let him have anything to do.
The crossdressing Shinigami paced along, with no clear goal in mind. He had bought himself a new skirt, though, which as nice. Blue denim - it went with his jacket, a matching colour and material. His top was a simple white t-shirt, with no strange markings or otherwise attention-drawing features. What was under the shirt may have attracted a few glances, but that was beside the point. What mattered, to him, was that he was bored out of his wits. His monthly clothes budget had been spent, there was nothing to do in town, and he had no work in the Seireitei to take care of. The vending machine across the street would provide some brief lapse in how dull things were, at least.
Lucky! You win![/i] Saito raised an eyebrow at this turn of events, and picked up two cans of mango juice. Chilled - just how he liked them, and two for the price of one. Maybe today wasn't going to be so bad after all. He didn't really want another can of the stuff, though. Not for any convoluted reason, mind, he just didn't want it. With nothing else better to do, Saito slipped into his pocket, and began strolling again, sipping nonchalantly at the other. The sweetness of mango juice was unmistakeable, and it was this that he loved about it.
And, whether it was down to luck, destiny, or some other factor, Saito came across someone painting. On public property, no less. He had, quite literally, caught someone red-handed. Staying undetected until the vital moment, he emerged, and spoke in his female voice. "You know, I always preferred tulips to roses. Never really understood why, I just did."
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Post by SILAS WOLFGANG on Oct 29, 2013 21:39:25 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][bg=000000][atrb=width,500,true]— SILAS WOLFGANG "UNSUNG" HAN: 18 REI: 18 HAK: 12 SEI: 18 BUK: 12 HOH: 12 ;
As the fullbringers eyes had focused on the sky, he had not so much as noticed the onlooker approach him. He slowly turned his head to face forward only to halt suddenly - he seemed quite startled, seeing a rather tastefully dressed woman in front of him. His surprised look soon faded, replaced by an amused smirk. He liked that she had paid attention to his art.
He was suddenly in not so much of a hurry, and briefly flicked his eyes over her form unaware of the other's true gender. His red eyes seemed rather lively as they combed over her figure. Then the obvious, subconscious signs of interest appearing as he opened his body language, going so far as a faint smirk.
Silas hoped this was not the store's owner. He was going to try and play off what he'd done. "Truly? A shame I have no tulips for you then." He responded, a raspy hint to his voice. He paused then for a moment. An idea had cropped up in his mind...
He liked the rather smart look this person had, as silly as he felt it was to stereotype. Beyond the glasses and clothing choices there was a certain hint of intelligence in this one's eyes, though it might've just been her witty approach. "I could paint you some tulips." He offered, imagining the flower in his mind. It was for free of course, given his interest.
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Post by Surǽlia Mora on Oct 29, 2013 22:03:57 GMT -5
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Surǽlia was here again, in karakura town. This damn place was simply infested with powerful beings 24/7 and so was deemed the most adequate place to begin her search for spiritually aware humans. Ania had sent her and the other obelisks on a mission to recruit people to the Consecro’s cause. Sure, it made sense, but it was a boring task. Instead of chasing down the sins, she was out here finding more lambs for the slaughter. Most of them would likely be killed by the agents of Hell without even a chance to react. Humans were weak, even those with powers like hers. It was a shameful thing for her to tell herself, but Surǽlia was a realist and she believed the Obelisks were all that stood between the Sins and world domination. She understood, obviously, that eventually the Arrancar and Shinigami would be forced to get involved, especially all the freelances running around.
Hirenkyaku carried her across the sky as she sniffed out her targets. There were several nearby, but one in particular caught her attention. There was a human, it would seem, with a shinigami incredibly close by. This wasn’t a Quincy that Surǽlia was dealing with, nor a human blessed with a holy sigil. That left only one option, fullbringer. It was often hard to tell the difference between the three reiatsu types. For her though, it was easy to be sure whether her target was a Quincy or not, but deciding between a fullbringer and a sigil owner was a bit more difficult. Most often, as she had just done, Surǽlia used deductive reasoning to come to a conclusion. Fullbringers were more common in this area than humans with sigils and most humans with sigils tended to be more recluse and not so...social. The shinigami’s presence is what allowed Surǽlia to make her final choice.
She closed in on the two energy sources before finally appearing in mid air beside the two of them. She looked at the fullbringer -- taller than her, masculine, long black hair -- and spoke.
“I have business with you that I’d like to discuss. We can do it here, or somewhere else; I don’t care.”
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Post by Saito Nakai on Oct 30, 2013 19:59:16 GMT -5
Saito raised an eyebrow at Silas' apparent interest. He knew his disguise was good, but was her really attracting this delectable specimen of a young man, with his - supposed - feminine wiles? He smiled a little more, and adopted a slightly more sultry tone of voice. Nothing too major, but just enough to entice Silas. Things were going well for him indeed. The Kido Corps member paced a little closer to his prey, crossing his arms as he did so, but left them lower on his body. he couldn't afford to alter his disguise inadvertently. "Well, I'd certainly like-" Before he could finish, a rather powerful presence cut him off.
Well, screw you too, lady. Though he would not show it on his face, Saito was irked greatly by the Obelisk's appearance. And, despite his self-assurance pertaining to his abilities, the lieutenant knew better than to pick a fight with someone who was likely many times more powerful than he. And, if you looked at her in the right light, she as more attractive than he was. Saito was the generic sort of attractive, and the glasses would appeal to a niche audience. The stranger though, she seemed to be something else. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was something about her.
Saito soon snapped out of his self-induced trance, however, and assumed a polite tone. A firm one, to be sure, but a polite one nonetheless. "Excuse me," he interjected, "But would it be possible for you to conduct your business at a later time? I understand you may have some urgent business to attend to with the young man here, but I believe I was here first, talking to him. Again, if you have urgent business with him, I won't get in your way, but it would be nice if you didn't act like I don't exist." Saito smiled slightly, though it was little more than a pleasantry. He was already beginning to be annoyed with this stranger.
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Post by SILAS WOLFGANG on Oct 30, 2013 21:49:27 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][bg=000000][atrb=width,500,true]� SILAS WOLFGANG "UNSUNG" HAN: 18 REI: 18 HAK: 12 SEI: 18 BUK: 12 HOH: 12 ;
The rather intriguing female seemed to be reciprocating his interest; that alone really made Silas's day. He found her stunning. He had specific interests and tastes that limited who he ever felt attracted to, of which she met all the criteria. Even once the disguise was shed, the raven haired male likely would've remained smitten. He held great interest in her words as she began to speak. The power to determine his mood for the next few hours hinged on her reply.
But just as she began to respond in her very convincing female voice, a sudden presence appeared nearby, and moved so boldly as to approach Silas. A wrench was thrown in the cogs of his courting... and while silently he felt unimaginable frustration at the audacity of this interruption, he politely turned to face the stranger, but before he had the chance to speak the lavender haired lady had spoken first. And quite well at that - it was actually flattering to him, that she seemed so interested as to stand ground as if he were her quarry. Well, he'd be exactly that if she so wished...
His frustration somewhat lessened, he thought up something to say and then spoke to the woman. He only hoped she was not the store owner - but found it unlikely. "Forgive my boldness, but you've intruded on something... personal." He said with a slightly pained expression. He meant to imply a couple's feud, or worse - whatever would get this interloper away the fastest. He then procured a pitch black business card with his phone number on it, and the illustration of a hand painted rose bearing exceptional quality.
The card said "Painter" on it and nothing more, with a phone number on it in crimson letters to match it's title. "If it's business please do call that number another time, tomorrow preferably." He informed, quietly dismissing her. He kept a lingering eye as he turned back to Nakai, keeping both females in view, unaware one of them was not as such... he seemed to have no interest in the blonde.
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Post by Surǽlia Mora on Oct 31, 2013 17:22:52 GMT -5
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Surǽlia gazed at the card she’d been handed, admiring the rose and the crimson text. She scanned the number, but seemed to almost ignore it as she tucked the little piece of paper into her coat. Her expression remained indifferent and she nearly ignored the Shinigami. She wasn’t amused in the slightest at the man’s facade, frankly, because she didn’t care much for Shinigami. They weren’t her prime objective, nor were they an enemy, so they were of little importance. This Fullbringer, however, was her target, and one that she intended to conscript or, as the Micans put it, “deal with properly.” If she were to be completely honest, Surǽlia wouldn’t bother killing the man, but simply tell him to never mention their meeting to anyone, especially another powerful human. The Consecro’s agents were everywhere, and she could never be able to keep track of them all, Obelisk or not.
Surǽlia turned to the Shinigami, eyed his features and his lips. He was so very feminine, but she was able to see past it. She then looked at the Fullbringer, glancing up and down his body. He was taller than her by quite a few inches. Even from a few feet away, the Quincy was forced to look up at the man. It was something she was used to, but no to this extent. Finally, she decided she needed to continue with her...negotiations, if she could call them that. There may be bloodshed that night, but it was something she’d rather avoid.
“Personal? I see. I’m sorry to intrude, but I’m afraid I can’t wait until tomorrow. This must be discussed immediately.” Surǽlia’s eyes wandered over the crossdresser. She turned around, facing her back to the both of them. “I’ll give you five minutes with... her.” Surǽlia continued, looking over her shoulder at Silas, “After that, we talk.” Her gaze returned forward while she faced down the street. “Don’t run and make this harder for both of us.”
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Post by Saito Nakai on Oct 31, 2013 20:28:42 GMT -5
Saito's expression, while it did not change for the most part, seemed to change just a little towards him being smug. Most people would be, mind - he had a rather tall and handsome young man standing up for him, his disguise was working (not on the Obelisk, though he did not know this yet), and though things seemed tense, it didn't seem as if anybody actually wanted it to come to blows. He did his best to keep his smile polite, however. His manners, fake as they were, would be needed if he was to get through this without having to draw his blade.
His expression quickly turned a little more sour upon realising that the cock-blocker had seen through his ruse. It wasn't as if this was unheard of, uncommon as it was. It was simply that she didn't even have the common decency to let him have even the dignity of keeping his disguise up. He did manage to shrug this off, however, on the grounds that addressing it - indirectly, naturally - would only cause more trouble than it was worth. If he was honest, he knew he shouldn't have cared as much as he did. She wasn't making it obvious he was really a man, and that was all that really mattered to him.
Once Surǽlia had turned her back to them, Saito looked to Silas, not entirely sure what to do. It seemed as though the Obelisk did not care for his presence, and if he left, that would be the end of it. However, he knew he couldn't let himself be intimidated by such a person, even if she was far more powerful than he. Whether it was stubborn pride or just an instinctive thing, Saito made sure that he stood his ground, and hoped that he wouldn't have to actually get violent. Powerful as he was, he didn't think he'd be able to take Surǽlia on, even if Silas decided to help.
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Post by SILAS WOLFGANG on Oct 31, 2013 21:18:44 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][bg=000000][atrb=width,500,true]� SILAS WOLFGANG "UNSUNG" HAN: 18 REI: 18 HAK: 12 SEI: 18 BUK: 12 HOH: 12 ;Sighing at the demanding blonde's efforts, Silas could tell she had power. He himself had no idea what a Fullbringer or a Shinigami was - he had been alone in life. So he didn't know that the rather trappy cutie he was attempting to court was in fact a spell wielding reaper of souls, or that the blonde belonged to a clan of Hollow slaying archers. He just assumed everyone had their own energy... but her's was pretty outstanding. Saito looked to him, wordlessly. It wasn't so bad that she had nothing to say - rather, he had the suspicion they both understood what was going on here. This person meant serious business. Not paintings or trifling vandalism... and judging from her last words, Silas's life was at stake quite possibly. He then attempted to take Saito's hand and place one of his business cards in it, smiling faintly. "I'm Silas. You're enchanting and I hope we meet again." He complimented, hoping he'd hear from her before long. Five minutes had not passed. But Silas was not one to delay fate with no reason other than to stall for time. He took in the pretty girl's looks one more time, in case this would be the last attractive person he'd see. He waited a moment to hear anything the other might have to say, then turned to face the blonde and calmly walked towards her with his hands at his sides. Their difference in raw reiatsu was noticeable, but only mildly so; Silas knew he had a chance if it came to blows. He crossed his arms as he stood in front of her, concealing his fullbring by keeping his right arm over it. "Spit it." He said, not bothering with false interest or empty gestures. His guard wasn't down, though. His reiatsu was gradually building up, which might've been visible as a faint black glow wavering around him, prepared in case he needed it. |
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Post by Surǽlia Mora on Nov 3, 2013 1:57:52 GMT -5
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It was nice that Surǽlia wouldn’t have to deal with this for much longer. This task was a nuisance, but it was necessary. Still, she’d rather not fight the two people here. The Shinigami wouldn’t put up much of a fight, but the last thing she needed was a war between the Consecro and the Soul Society, especially now. There was no way a single human could be worth a full-scale war. Surǽlia ignored the rising reiatsu before her, noting the almost-shadow that had begun to veil the man. She couldn’t quite tell if he was beating his chest, showing off, or actually preparing to defend himself. It wouldn’t work; Surǽlia was always on guard and continually prepared to dodge at a moment’s notice. Still, he was definitely strong and physically greater than she was, but his spiritual pressure hardly reached hers. If she had to fight, she was sure she’d have no problem.
That fact changed nothing, however. She still didn’t want to kill him, since unnecessary murder was uncalled for, no matter the MIcan’s orders. How was Ania going to find out anyway?
“Relax,” Surǽlia began, “This won’t take long, and I have no intention of fighting you, fullbringer.” Her hands were still tucked into her jacket pockets, where they’d been the whole time. She fiddled with a small piece of paper between her right fingers, rolling it between her thumb and index. “I’ll start by introducing myself. I am Surǽlia Mora, Obelisk of the Consecro. I’m here to seek out spiritually aware humans, the category in which you happen to belong.” She reached into her jacket and pulled out the card he gave him, gazing over the pretty crimson rose. “You’re a good artist,” she ended bluntly before continuing, “And who are you?”
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Post by SILAS WOLFGANG on Nov 3, 2013 2:19:24 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][bg=000000][atrb=width,500,true]� SILAS WOLFGANG "UNSUNG" HAN: 18 REI: 18 HAK: 12 SEI: 18 BUK: 12 HOH: 12 ;Her intentions didn't sway him; the tinge of darkness surrounding the man remained in place. If needed, he could assume a state now in which Chernobog's all decaying fog would not harm him, allowing for far safer usage of his otherwise dangerous Fullbring. It usually would've been brighter but he was trying to conceal it. The difference between their reiatsu was minor in actuality, but he wanted to express less of his power. It wouldn't do to have all his cards laid out on the table just yet... She soon disarmed his suspicions about her intentions, however. Mentions of Fullbringers and Consecro... it showed in his expression, as he quickly became far less tense. He smiled instead. He thought in his mind, 'Wow, this girl is batshit crazy'. Silas didn't even recognize the name of his own race; he laughed just for a second, quickly cutting off the somewhat rude reaction before visibly exhaling. He patiently resolved to answer her. Clearing his throat, Silas spoke. "I'm called Unsung." He replied, shifting his feet to a slightly more comfortable posture as he leaned against the pole of a traffic light. "I expunge corruption in society without expunging life... usually."" He continued, studying the strange girl he assumed to be insane.
This wouldn't do. He had no time to waste on a lunatic. But... there was the faintest chance that she wasn't crazy, and that this was either true, or a trick. "I laughed earlier because I have no idea what you called me. If it weren't for that power you exude..." Silas spoke, as he ceased concealing his pressure, permitting her to know just how small the gap between them was. "... I would have assumed you were insane." He concluded.
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Post by Surǽlia Mora on Nov 4, 2013 0:33:36 GMT -5
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Surǽlia smirked when at his comment about expunging corruption. She was similar in a way, always trying her best to avoid the killing, but sometimes it was inevitable. She continued to stare at the card as he spoke to her. It really was pretty artwork. It reminded her of the Gothic and romantic artists of old. She’d always admired their work and was spectacled by it’s beauty, often spending hours at a time examining different painting: their brushstrokes, paint types, etc. She, however, had never been an artist; she just never had the motivation to practice. When the Fullbringer finished his statement, Surǽlia remained silent for a moment, still entranced by the card. She spoke softly and carelessly, almost apathetically, but there was meaning behind her words.
“Unsung. That’s a handsome name.” She looked up at him, making direct eye-contact. “If you think I’m crazy, then it seems you are unaware of your own situation. Have you ever wondered about your abilities and that incredible power that you exude?” Surǽlia glanced over at the Shinigami, then back at Unsung. “You aren’t like other humans, and neither am I.” The Obelisk didn’t exactly feel like explaining the full situation to this uneducated man, but she really didn’t have much of a choice. She’d be forced to stand here on a cold night in mid January talking to a powerful man who was so uninformed that he didn’t even know what reishi was. This was going to be a long night, hopefully the Shinigami might be able to help Surǽlia out, but that was probably too much to ask for...
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Post by SILAS WOLFGANG on Nov 4, 2013 2:20:54 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][bg=000000][atrb=width,500,true]� SILAS WOLFGANG "UNSUNG" HAN: 18 REI: 18 HAK: 12 SEI: 18 BUK: 12 HOH: 12 ;It seemed this would not come to blows. Instead, she complimented his artwork, which brought a gentle glow to his chilled heart; but Silas wasn't capable of being flattered. The mention was largely mute. Her words, however, struck him far more sharply. Indeed he had pondered the nature of his powers... but Fullbrings cease to evolve after achieving their full form. Chernobog was simply darkness and maleficence. The mention of his power drew his attention away from her praise. Leaning his head back, he looked at an angle towards her and replied, though he seemed unenthusiastic about it. "Power?" He asked, this time not with confusion. He held up the twisted, morbid artifact on his left ring finger. "This is just destruction. Power implies it could help anything. The only good this can ever do is consume the cancers of this world." Silas responded, before lowering the limb. He seemed to despise his own power, but he didn't. He simply felt disdain in how limited it was... he'd gotten over the feeling of self importance that his abilities once intoxicated him with long ago, seeing them as they were now. And his own power hurt him; if it didn't leave an outright wound on his flesh, it sucked the joy from him and stole his peace. Little did he know all Fullbringers had a similar burden. He then calmly sighed and shifted his posture, trying to seem more passive. "I'm pretty sure you just want something from me though. That's how it always is..." He admitted with some jadedness. |
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Post by Surǽlia Mora on Nov 4, 2013 3:00:04 GMT -5
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As the man relaxed, Surǽlia could tell that she’d successfully eased the tension, or most of it. He raised his and to show her his fullbring. It was a ring, of sorts, and looked far older than he himself did. She wondered for a second where he’d come across the artifact and, for an instant, why it was important enough to him to become a fullbring. She didn’t have time to be sentimental, though. It was cold, and she did say that she would try to keep it brief. He appeared to take on a sullen state, as he spoke of destruction. He almost hated his fullbring, as far as she could tell. She’d understood what he was trying to express, though, though she hated humanity and often tried to avoid them, she wasn’t socially inept, and certainly felt empathy towards the pains of others. She was just like that.
Her head perked up at his last statement. This was something. Perhaps she hadn’t been the first to speak to him or request his assistance. This brought up a slight concern. What had he used his powers for in the past and would they truly be useful in the battles to come? Considering the way he’d described them, he certainly possessed an amount of destructive power. That would certainly come in handy in any kind of fight, but would it be enough to kill a Tagobito? There was only one way to find out, she surmised.
“I want you to help us save the world.” she said bluntly, with a strange mix of enthusiasm and apathy. She was hoping for a positive reaction out of this and not another “you must be crazy.” But if she couldn’t get that, she’d likely be forced to turn to the Shinigami for assistance in explaining the situation that Surǽlia was sure the Soul Society was aware of.
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Post by SILAS WOLFGANG on Nov 19, 2013 21:57:59 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][bg=000000][atrb=width,500,true]— SILAS WOLFGANG "UNSUNG" HAN: 18 REI: 18 HAK: 12 SEI: 18 BUK: 12 HOH: 12 ;
'I want you to help us save the world.'
The blonde's haunting words lingered for some time in Silas's mind. They were disturbing to him in that he hated the world. In an instant he imagined the land the woman asked him to defend, a vast expanse of desolate concrete and hovels of wood and metal arranged in vast sprawl that sucked the life out of nature. He saw the countless fat sacks of lard and meat sprinkled across the continents. He felt, with great indignation, that in following her agenda he would only be protecting the same revolting existence that he sought to change with his power. Chernobog was capable of naught but destruction - so for that purpose, Silas sought to destroy the cancers of the earth.
But he didn't shout out his feelings for her to hear. His response wasn't even 'no'. Rather he calmly stared at her with his deeply shaded crimson eyes, a blood red color so much more vivid than that of his already lush clothing. He was studying the female; Silas hated all women. The bitterness in him towards her was quite strong and only for her gender really. He bit his lip, before beginning to speak.
"Truthfully, there's a lot I'd rather not protect. I never was the volunteer sort either..." Silas expressed, crossing his arms. His pallid visage retained an eerie, charismatic stillness. "But I can be hired." He expressed, being largely at odds with her cause.
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