Still no Honey. No Kir to make this encounter the easy acquisition it was meant to be. Where the <********. Vier calmed himself forcefully. Yes, there were two to his one; yes, his one eye was stitched shut, the other an angry red that bespoke some sort of recent trauma. He could handle this. .Ideally, the way most of his acquisitions went, there was never any need for a real fight of any kind. They would either ingest the lemonade, and become helpless against its soporific effects, or they’d eat the cookies he was about to offer, and encounter the same. Or, he’d lead them toward his rooms, where a Kir waited, guarding Volithius. He could do this.
He spread his hands, in acknowledgment of the woman’s concerns about him. He rarely saw cis women…she would be valuable. She would be, but he found his attention more readily captured by the male half of the party. Pretty, muscled, with a sweetness of face St. Vier knew would be appealing to a great number of customers…the vast possibilities the man offered to someone like St. VIer--who could make him into any number of creatures--pulled at him.
The man was--attractive, well-built. That was rarer and rarer too, especially among creatures as human-looking as this one was.
His lips twisted at the expected careful response.
”Not a hotel” he corrected lightly, pouring himself a glass of the lemonade he didn’t intend to drink.
”I’ve been attempting to run this church as a safe space. I do what I can, for those who come to me with a pure heart.” He gestured toward the pitcher as an example of his ‘running,’ a flick of the fingers indicating the rest of the visible room for the rest..
”I’ve only set out a few beds, but you’re welcome to them. You’ll have to set your weapons outside, of course.” He didn’t want to add the addendum, since it put pressure on the two. But it would be ludicrous for a real place like Haven to allow armed guests. He ran demonstrative hands down his own simple garb, tugging at points where he might have had weapons to demonstrate he was unarmed.
This was sub-optimal. He did happen to be unarmed at the moment, but--there was now a possibility he’d be rushed to capture this sweet location. As long as they didn’t kill him, his Kirs and Honey would eventually come and turn things around, but there was always the possibility…Apart from his encounter with Volithius, it had been a while since anything genuinely threatened his life.
He took a small sip of the lemonade, feeling its soporific effect tingling on his lips and his inner cheek.
”As long as you comply with Haven’s doctrine, I don’t ask anything else of you. Indeed” he indicated his rooms with one slowly-swept hand.
”I can show you to your room.” It was more familiar to him to offer some other food option in his rooms--usually alcohol, thought the promise of cookies had worked quite well on Lokeah. But he could sense that wouldn’t be successful on these two. He usually wouldn’t care so much, but--well, two of his Kirs were in there. Once they were revealed, there wouldn’t be any more need to pretend.
”Sadistic Nox”
”_pork_sodaa_”
((Sorry for the delay <3 ))
Posted: Fri Jun 07, 2019 2:05 pm
Sebrael------------------Juramae
Dark eyes filled with anticipation as they were acquainted by the distant visage of the well maintained tabernacle of worship. It's structure was something familiar, reminiscent of a history the angel had once known well and the cognizance of that thought left a secure feeling of safety about the building despite it being the furthest thing from.
Roughly sixty three suns had passed since their journey began and it had brought the two angels to Ozymandias. It was hard to gauge the exact time, given that during a few days of their travel the black smog clouds had blocked out the suns light nearly entirely. The initial start to the journey was rocky to say the least. Sebrael, unlike his brother Juramae, had never walked among the earth's top soil nor interacted with humans directly and was shocked to find that his mere voice caused great anguish for most. This posed a critical issue as Juramae was a man of significantly few words and their plan required Sebrael to be able to communicate with others.
Through trial and error, and after easily acquiring information, the two had formulated a feasibly simple plan. The basis of which began at acquiring a creature as close to human as human could get. Sebrael would of course have liked to be more choosy about this but knew that the pickings were slim. They'd met one human who would have done nicely had he not been volatile and derelict. A brief stint with the young human male had landed the two angels in one or two rough spots, and their partnership ended abruptly after a foolish attempt to rob them.
It was clear that they needed better, and through whispered rumors the two knew just where to go.
Ahead of them was a young humanoid creature named Bonboo who they'd picked up a short distance outside of the city. She was fairly comparable to that of a once human ape. Her long arms hung low and the sizable calloused knuckles on her hands trailed on the rough ground in a sloppy fashion as she lurched forward, in turn leaving the pale tan hair that covered most of her body matted and dirty. She was slow, as they found most creatures to be, but eager to take the holy beings to their desired destination. An excitement overtook her as St. Viers Haven finally fell into her view albeit completely unaware that her mountainous followers had already spotted it.
"There! There!" She yelled out in excitement. The yelling was not necessary as the angels had no issues hearing the creatures of the Earth speak. They found this was a normal reaction to their towering presences. People so far had felt the need to shout up to them as if their height made it harder for them to hear. Juramae had attributed this to peoples natural inclination to yell across great distances in order to be heard better. Sabrael agreed but found the constant shouting to be somewhat galling.
More excited yawps blurted from Bonboo, "Just ahead!" and "Almost there!" as the small group closed in. She'd look back in a peppy manner each time, her mouth and front shirt stained bright purple with the juices of an unknown substance, and was met with the gentlest and most appreciative of smiles from Sebrael. Juramae offered no such kindness however, his head always looking straight forward as if it were inconsequential to give the creature any real notice. It was impossible to tell if the larger giant was pleased or displeased with her as the top half of his head was completely covered with a large sturdy looking branching helmet. The rest of his body was covered in a thick ornate metal armor as well. His mouth was exposed, but that provided no additional information on his current mood as he very rarely smiled or frowned.
Not long after, the travelers had finally made it to the front doors of the establishment. The very... Very... Tiny front doors. There was no way in a million years that either Sebrael or Juramae could fit through the openings. One came across as being already opened in a perhaps inviting way but it appeared that Bonboo had no interest in entering. The way she had stopped roughly 20 yards from the building and moved uncomfortable with impatience alerted Juramae that the creature feared it and thus he did not make an additional request of her. "Here we are! Here we are! Here we are!" she yelled loudly with increased excitement. The two brothers then looked at one another;
"We should knock." Sebrael mentally articulated to the elder, who nodded and stepped forward to preform the action.
Sebrael felt a tug on the lowest part of his long robes. Unlike Juramae, Sebrael wore no armor and instead was covered by simple but ornate dark grey robes that were decorated lightly with a dazzling gold embroidery. The smallest angel didn't even have shoes on, but the soles and ankles of his feet were wrapped with a cotton like fabric. To no surprise, Bonboo stood at his bare feet, an arm outstretched upwards and a dirty hand gripping firmly on the cloth of his body. The creature looked up expectantly with yearning eyes and a clearly visible amount of drool dripping from her lips. Sebrael was unable to communicate with this creature but knew what it was that she wanted.
He tucked a hand into a pouch that had been tied to a belt on his wast and removed a handful of a peculiarly delicious looking mixture. Within the angels grasp these things looked like nothing more than small seeds, but to a normal sized creature they were an assortment of fantastic looking edibles. The berries were thin, wrinkled, and elongated; vibrantly rich in the colors of sunset pinks, royal purples, and cerulean blues. The nuts were more varied though. Some were a pale cream and tan color; fat and rounded with a bumpy texture. There were a few that appeared large and stone like as if shelled. Those were a dark brown with strokes of black as if a rough paint brush had touched each in their own unique way. But most were a small kidney shape and a nearly white sea green color; the smallest of all and the most plentiful.
These things were nothing special to the angels and in fact they hadn't brought them along to feed the humanoids. They'd originally made sure to take a decent stock of it in order to feed any actual animals they might find upon the surface. It was just simple animal feed they'd used for suet after all. Juramae had a deep respect and adoration for animals and wanted to make sure that he could care for them should they come. Sebrael simply thought it was a cute and excellent idea. But the two found that the humans and humanoid creatures of this world found the meager seedlings to be absolutely scrumptious and delectable and they had become something of a currency.
Sebrael squatted down as close to the earth as he could manage without sitting directly on it and extended the food filled hand out to Bonboo as if he were feeding a small animal. And he practically was. Bonboo immediately stepped forward and reached her long arms into the pile, one hand grabbing first a purple berry and biting into it wildly while the other hand helped shovel various nuts into her gullet. It was as if she couldn't get the food into her mouth fast enough and began making audible sounds of contentment.
"Mmm... Mmmmmm. MMM... MMMPH! MMPH! MMMMPPHHH!!!" The noises became more muffled as her jowls filled. The explosion of creamy, fatty and new flavors sent a euphoric tingle through her body and she began to unknowingly dance with excitement, feet pitter pattering upon the ground. The purple juice from the berry had burst outward and left a fresh stain down the helping creatures jaw and clothing, as well as a small puddle on the ground.
Sebrael found the sight of Bonboo's feverish eating to be endearing and couldn't help but smile at the cuteness. He instinctively lifted his other hand and began to gently pat Bonboo's head and back with a single finger as if she truly were just an animal. Bonboo surely didn't fuss and actually enjoyed the physical contact. It was something she rarely ever experienced, let alone in any sort of pleasant way. Her big brown eyes occasionally peeked upward from the food to view Sebrael's calming angelic face. His skin was abnormally flawless. Pore-less. It was as if he was carved masterfully from an otherworldly substance. He was pale and almost blue with the slightest hints of human color to him, unlike his brother whose skin was stark white, devoid of almost all color except around certain areas like the lips and eyes.
While Bonboo feasted, Juramae made his way to the ajar front door. If it could even be called a door with it's pathetic height, he thought to himself in a rather arrogant way. He stared down at it momentarily confused on how he could 'knock'. A fist would surely break it, let alone the building. And a kick would do even more damage. After a few moments of contemplation he squatted down himself and gently tapped the open door twice with his finger before standing and returning to his brother.
Minus the sounds of Bonboo's yells, there was nothing to alert anyone that the two behemoths were on there way, or even there. Despite their size they made little to no noise when they walked, nor did their footsteps cause disruption with the earth. Though they may have been partially visible from the inside if one were to look through the open door, it would have been hard to ignore the knock. The sound was akin to two large dead bodies being chucked at the door and it immediately smacked open during the first tap and would have slammed shut if it weren't for the second tap that smashed it loudly back open. At that point the abused wood slammed shut from sheer force with a loud bang.
Sebrael pulled a face of playfully amused uncertainty at his brother. "Honestly?" he teased the other with another mental remark. Juramae could only shrug with amusement, though there were no visible signs of being amused.
OOC Please feel free to insert this where you need to. I.E. You don't have to reply to it like it just happened if you don't want to, just when you're ready.
SamTheRobot
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_pork_sodaa_
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Posted: Sat Jun 08, 2019 1:19 pm
▲▽▲▽▲Y O H A N ☆ C L E M E N T I N E▲▽▲▽▲
Clementine projected her elbow outward and prodded the man in the side in a rather brash movement, making him jerk in accordance with her little attack. Of course, the assault didn't hurt him physically, but it sure as hell got his attention as a throaty grunt rumbled in the bowels of his esophagus. Yohan's ardent orbs flooded with annoyance, though he appeared as if he wouldn't take his eyes off of the Father, who he thought to still be rather strange. He certainly didn't feel safe within this environment, so it was moderately peculiar for him to even have stepped foot in this church with that nagging suspicion churning in the depths of his stomach--what an unpleasant feeling.
``Be nice.`` Was all that accompanied her believably out of nowhere attack, her lips curling into a mischievous grin as she began gamboling around - observing every nook and cranny, creeping her index down the dusty snowcaps of the windowsills, and reasonably taking a few too many longing glances toward the lemonade cups saturated with the citrusy juice. If it weren't for Yohan's eyes tunneling into her every move, she would unquestionably take a few inconspicuous sips here and there when her elder sibling wasn't looking. Which--what was that? He was! Clementine almost had to hide her excitement as something within the timeworn beanie she always wore radiated a brilliant blue; something akin to her unusual skin tone.
``Right, right . . . please do pardon me,`` Yohan began, slowly dragging his intense gaze back toward the clergyman while submitting no such courtesy that his younger sister was offering. He instead, however, let the worn straps of his backpack - both previously clinging onto his brawny arms - slip from his shoulders and in response hurtle toward the wooden floors, a turbulent bang! echoing off the solid appearing walls. ``Safe place, hotel, same difference. That amount of generosity and empathy is rare these days, so, while I doubt you're doing this out of the goodness of your heart, I'll take you up on your offer. However,`` Yohan paused once more, something that he often did whenever he tried to recollect his thoughts. And, without turning away from the man, he began to scan the rather empty floor they stood upon. It was empty, quiet, and far too "clean" for just one person to handle. And not only that, there seemed to be blades and bindings found in the back of the crescent-like recesses of what resembled that of an apse. He brushed his gaze back toward Adorno, hand resting just above the faint curve of his hip; his lips tugging into a disinterested grimace. ``I don't believe that will be plausible, Father. Perhaps, when I am assured that you and all whoever reside her aren't armed, I would be suaded.`` Yohan remarked.
While the two were off talking, Clementine managed to covertly sneak a cup into her palm while doing her rounds within what many refer to as their house of prayer, slowly circling the cup with her finger before taking a cautious glance back. Just a few sips wouldn't hurt--right? Clem assured herself that this was the case, nodding in conformity with what she viewed as sound logic. With her throat feeling dryer than usual, she hastily wrapped her lips around the rim of the cup and nodded her head back, the acidulous fluid flowing from the cup and soon pouring into her mouth, much to her delight. It was--odd, to say the least. It wasn't like any other lemonade that she has devoured in the past, granted, she's only drunk the beverage on rare occasions that they come across an inn with a quaint little bar attached. The blue-hued creature took the arm of her sleeve and mopped up any liquid that was left clinging to her lips, a near immediate fatigue washing over her like an everlasting wave. In the process, she lost her footing, stumbling near a pew that smelled vaguely of old lumber and dust.
She figured that it was just the month's walk that was catching up to her, and, if so, then a little tiny nap wouldn't be so much of a problem.
Yohan, with eyes mostly focused on Father Adorno, broke their piercing gaze just to access where Clementine had dashed off too. She wasn't near the barred windows, nor at the entrance, and further inspection would show that she wasn't off hiding under a ledge of some sort. Her abnormally large hat would've given away her location if she did, funny enough. With her not within his immediate range of sight, panic began to swell inside his heart, and he took a careful step forward toward the pews on his right; nothing. Then the left, where a body was positioned awkwardly against the wooden rows of benches. Clementine, no doubt. Yohan nudged her once, twice, but to no avail. She was knocked out cold, in all sense of the word.
``. . Great.`` Yohan twisted in his seat, just about ready to continue questioning the other man, who looked about his age if not older, when the sound of the doors almost giving out erupted within his ears. His attention was immediately drawn to the noise, which soon dissipated after the door swung back into place, poor thing. His dark brows knitting with confusion, he briskly walked over to the nearest barred window where he peered into the arid wasteland of the outside. But--today just seems to be filled with surprises. He saw feet, or what resembled them if he wanted to be exact. But not the feet of man, or mutant, or literally anything normal sized. For once, his stoic face began to melt into one that looked much more perturbed--and he debated whether or not he should even go out there, for both his own and Clementine's safety. Yet, curiosity still managed to weasel its way into his self-doubt as he paced back and forth - took a quick glance toward the pew that hid Clementine fairly well, and then, falteringly, marched off toward the exit. The door, for some obscure reason, seemed heavier than the last time he pushed it open, and a foreign lump expanded in his throat as his boots made contact with the soil underneath.
Well, he was right. Two pairs of feet - more accurately attached to a pair of mountainous beings - with a more life-sized mutant creature squabbling about with fruit stains dribbling down her chin. This was . . . beyond peculiar. He didn't know how to describe it--nor what to say. He was speechless, to say the least, and simply stood there.
”Sadistic Nox”
”Gold_Star_For_Robot_Boy”
SamTheRobot
Posted: Mon Jun 17, 2019 12:19 pm
••• St. × Vier
It had been some time since St. Vier had been off kilter in this particular way. Even the wild battle with Volithius earlier, the awkward precursor masquerading as a “neutral” meeting—these had been uncomfortable and terrifying in turn, but familiar in another way. How much of the past howeverlong had he spent battling Volithius? It was right to be awkward pretending not to battle that which had to be battled.
He couldn’t remember the last time—that was, since they’d been finished—that he’d spent this long among uncaptured visitors to Haven without his Kirs directly on hand to intervene.
He could only repeat, internally, the obvious.
‘Honey should have come by now.’
‘Where is the Kir I sent Below?’ Between the two of them, St. Vier was forced to split his attention, and whether because of his own inclinations or because he’d judged the boy to be more dangerous, St. Vier spent most of his attention on the male. He wasn’t bothered by the boy’s suspicious nature; it would have been ludicrous to be otherwise, here, now.
He didn’t flinch at the loud ’bang!’ but with his current poor, watering eyesight it was a close thing. It occurred to him that maybe it would have been better if he had flinched. It wasn’t bad to look weak, now, here. Or—usually it wouldn’t be. All the better if those who came here thought they could predate him, when there was a Kir straining to listen to the most lightly whispered command from him.
He didn’t respond to the idea that no one could possibly help others without wanting something in return. It was a common refrain from those who came through Haven, something “Father Adorno” often dismissed by asking for hard labor from those who came here, as well as an opportunity to minister to them. The labor was real—St. Vier saved the cleaning and preservation of the rough frescoes that remained in Haven for such encounters, and part of him genuinely wanted the remnants of an easier time to be well maintained. The labor was also, indeed, difficult. He could have kept Haven immaculate if he’d wanted it that way, but—like offering chilled lemonade—he’d learned it was better to keep a certain level of decay along with lukewarm offerings.
”I understand” he replied, to the idea that the strange boy wouldn’t immediately surrender his weapons.
”At present, there are no other supplicants. I’m afraid I can’t allow you further inside Haven armed, but I can offer you food and drink, and show you the grounds…”
If he yelled, would Volithius’s guards here him and come? Probably, but that would be as good as giving up the game. There was no excusing the Kirs appearance, the hulking monstrosity of them. They were too obviously martial, too obviously made to subdue and damage, with no possible innocent explanation for their dogged obedience.
Well, never say never of course. St. Vier had never tried to do so. There was something inherently unsettling about them, something perhaps instinctual in the way being around a corpse was instinctively unsettling. It was just easier to keep this first interaction simple, almost boring. As boring and rote as it was possible to be…
As if in defiance of this thought, two things happened in quick succession.
He should have kept better tabs on the girl. First, she fell, the paper cup in her hand flagging the cause of her sudden unconsciousness. St. Vier’s mind raced, even as he squinted, trying to see and understand exactly what was occurring. God, but his eyes, his whole face hurt. Even as he thought it, he scoffed that discomfort had become so unfamiliar that it could unsettle him so. But then again, wasn’t that just a measure of success?
The word ‘Kir’ was on his lips when, far more unexpectedly, a harsh pounding sounded at Haven’s front door. The church’s doors had been built solidly, meant even before the Storm to last against any happenstance and only reinforced since. The door blew in as if it were nothing, one of the hollow door-shaped objects that graced most interior apartment buildings.
He stayed in place for a moment. Raids happened, sometimes. He wasn’t going to rush to the slaughter. Especially not now, without his usual guards or slaves to soak up any damage that might be coming for him.
The door to his rooms swatted open, and the two Kir guards assigned to Volithius moved out to fan him on either side. He glanced back, toward the still-chained scientist. His presence was damning in the extreme, but he couldn’t be anything but glad of the two hulking figures, even as he turned and left Volithius alone.
He wasn’t generally in the business of moving outside Haven to answer anything that seemed threatening, but he couldn’t very well leave without confirming his business was under threat. Usually, in Ozymandias, raids were—scheduled, in a certain sense. Not by day specifically, but he was made aware that the city council was sending guards out to clear out the weakest riff raff, those who didn’t contribute to the unstable economy.
Something—soul deep or just minutely observant—knew that wasn’t what was happening now, but he pushed the now-basically-swinging front doors of Haven open, two Kirs now at his back.
He looked. And looked, up and up.
His first response was avarice. He had clients who would pay anything for a yielding giant.
With at least two of his usual attendants, too, he felt more able to handle any particular threat.
Still…something itched deep inside his brain as he closed Haven’s doors behind him and looked upon the two figures just outside. He breathed out, and battled the odd compulsion to either laugh hysterically or bend the knee.
”…Welcome to Haven, friends” he murmured, not thinking to accomadate and project his voice out toward the two giant creatures that were gathered at his threshold. He breathed in, and a delicate scent invaded his nostrils, compelling without giving him any particular profile as to why he enjoyed it. If he had been calmer, looking more objectively, probably he would have attributed the scent to the small figure before the two others.
”Sadistic Nox”
”_pork_sodaa_”
SamTheRobot
Gold_Star_For_Robot_Boy Crew
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SamTheRobot
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Posted: Tue Jun 18, 2019 2:14 am
Sebrael------------------Juramae
Juramae's concealed eyes strayed from the younger angel, whose focus had returned to the driveling creature at his hand, and fell upon Yohan as he stepped out from the confines of the church. Decent in size, relatively human and non-threatening in appearance; the elder surmised he was no threat. His large figure shifted to stand forward facing with a kind of civil attention one would expect from a person who held great regard for traditional social courtesies. Yohan didn't appear to be horribly frightened of him either. Stunned, if anything. This wasn't an uncommon reaction but one the two holy beings definitely preferred over sheer fear. That tended to end in useless and unwanted violence. Not that Juramae shied away from such things. No risk of a fight had ever swayed him from a mission.
"Perhaps it is this one?" The elder spoke to his brother in a vocally devoid way while keeping his eyes fixated on the humanoid male.
Sebrael's attention turned from Bonboo over to Yohan now. There was an immediate visible aura of a receptive soul and it was clear to him that this was a creature he could potentially have communication with. "Perhaps. There is a clarity within him. No. This is not the one we seek. They did say the one known as St. Vier looked huma-"
As Sebrael spoke to his brother, so did he also attempt to communicate with the human within his mind. His dark gaze remained staring with an almost intimate fierceness. A peaceful calm, accompanied by a cacophony of voices with variously beautiful ranges, pushed it's way into Yohan's thoughts and nearly drowned out the sound of everything else. There was a secure, almost protective sensation that blanketed any apprehensive thoughts that would naturally arise within an intruded mind. The feeling paralleled that of speaking to a close friend or family member in a reassuring fashion.
The words were mostly unknown and strange. Garbled and confusing. Some were elongated in certain voices as if a snake had attempted to learn human speech. Some words were as clear as day but held no significant meaning beyond their vocalic eloquence. The loudest voice was the clearest and most understood. Perhaps it was because it was such a deep baritone that it seemed more defined than all the others, but with a little focus it was easier to hear.
"Hail ye..."
"Saaaalve fiiiliiiuuuus deeeeii Deeeuuuus."
"Ol zir a noco de elo."
"Do not fear."
"Pteepsom cemit si thel."
"Saaaaalvuuuuum meeecuum esssstiiissss."
Things would then start to become uncomfortable, almost as if Yohan were being violated in an unusual and new way by the intense eyes that looked at him. As if those eyes were seeing something hidden beyond the flesh, something more guarded than the naked form. The eyes stared deep at something Yohan's mind couldn't even begin to comprehend, leaving a vulnerable chaste feeling in it's wake. Then all the voices spoke in unison, only one thing being said; "Yohan..."
In that moment, Yohan could feel Sebrael. Not just his presence within him, but his divinity. It felt like the sunshine kissing your skin after spending an eternity in darkness, finally basking in it's light and warmth. A nourishing wave of complete wholeness and hope. Blissful, perfect tranquility. Pure love. The connection ended abruptly as the eyes diverted to St. Vier...
Sebraels thoughts were completely interrupted as St. Vier exited the Church with the Kirs at his heels. His hand halted in petting the feasting Bonboo. The attention of both the angels now fell upon him. Juramae's motionless head gave no indication of where he was looking other than directly in St. Viers direction. He was sizing up the large forms that accompanied the rather beaten up man and attempting to figure out if they were the cause for his current state of mutilation. Sebrael's eyes were far more telling as they slowly moved between each Kir before falling onto the priest. He felt an immediate distaste for the strange guards and was unsettled by their sight, while Juramae felt confident that he could squash them relatively easily if need be.
"Perhaps this one?" Juramae questioned to his brother in their current conversational state.
The smaller angel attempted the same kind of connection with the new figure, but was unsuccessful. "Perhaps." Sebrael replied.
Bonboo's eyes initially looked over when the first male exited the establishment. Yohan's presence was nothing notable to her though and she knew she'd never laid eyes upon him before. Her lack of knowledge about the people and situation caused her to slow in her gobbling of the nuts and berries to a more cautious state of ingestion. She began chewing the food in her mouth more slowly and inputting it less feverishly, yet seemed to be incapable of stopping completely.
That was until St. Vier exited Haven's walls, accompanied by two Kirs. Bonboo's face fell pale at the sight of him. Even broken and tired she knew he was something to be feared. The humanoid stopped completely as she stared at the man and his guards. She'd only heard the rumors, but knew those who came here rarely left. And now here she was... It would have been wise to take off running right away. Instead, Bonboo began to speedily shovel handfuls of nuts into her mouth in a panic. When there was no room left in her chops for anything else and she was on the brim of chocking, she took a few quick steps in the opposite direction of the church to run; only to just as quickly return to Sebrael's hand not a moment later.
The younger angels attention was brought down to the humanoid female once more. The foolishly clever thing had made a make-shift pouch by lifting up the front of her shirt and exposing a thin but rounded stomach, equally as hairy as the rest of her. Bonboo had begun extending her long arm into the pile and shoveling armfuls of the decadent treats into her shirt pouch in order to make off with more. With each large swipe she took a step away from the church, Vier, and the group, until she was just grabbing at the random pieces left within her grasp.
Nuts fell from her shirt and her hands, and small half chewed pieces fell from her lips as she then turned and high tailed it away; stopping only once as a purple berry fell and rolled onto the ground. Of course, she had to run and grab it, in turn dropping a small pile worth of kidney shaped nuts in the process. It looked like she were panicked and flustered, truly confused on what she should do about it all. She looked back and forth between the pile of nuts and St. Vier with increased hesitancy before deciding it was best to just leave it and save herself.
With that, Bonboo ran wildly off and away from the group, a couple of nuts tossing away from her here and there as she went.
Sebrael just watched, a little perplexed by what was happening. He would have loved to ask but knew that Juramae would provide no additional wisdom on the matter, and the others present were not equipped to hear him. This brought his attention back to their reason for being here.
Sebrael tilted his hand and let the remainder of the food assortment fall to the ground in front of him. His upper wings extended out quickly, spreading in a stretch outwards that fluffed his white feathery appendages to the sides of him before making a single downward flap which lifted him effortlessly upwards, just above the ground, and then gently onto his feet. He stood now a short distance behind Juramae before stepping to his brothers side. His height was clearly not as impressive as Juramae's own, but there was a definite difference between the two. Sebrael moved with an air of confidence and there was something pleasantly commanding about the way he smiled so gently for seemingly no reason. Juramae, on the other hand was stiff. Rigid, as if he were to move only when commanded.
And as if to confirm this, after Vier had given them a warm welcome, Sebrael gave a simple nod of his head towards his brother, who then moved on cue.
Juramae stepped forward and spoke down the the humanoids. His voice was similar to Sebraels in that there appeared to be multiples of it, as if perhaps 2 individuals were speaking at the same time. It was deep and powerful in both forms. "These ones seek the trader St. Vier."
Sebrael looked a little stunned for a moment and shook his head with a playful smirk, "Juramae. Pleasantries please."
Juramae stopped dead. Silent for a moment at the soft coltish scolding for being abruptly direct and ignoring the welcome they received, before continuing with "Thank... You." It was obvious that was strained. Sebrael turned his head to the side, looking as if he were doing his best to not laugh... And he was... Juramae regained his composure quickly, and asked again with more command, "These ones seek the trader St. Vier. Where can we find him?"
OOC For Pork, I rolled on Discord to see how well Sebrael would be able to communicate with him and got the highest roll. But you're free to allow your character to feel/react however you choose. Er, this is just the best possible scenario for all non pure humans.
For Robot, when Sebrael attempts to make the connection with Vier, it's fine if he feels like something is trying to get in, or perhaps feels a holiness. Not that he has to or would, but if you would like him to, I don't mind.
Err, dark red/indigo italicized is them talking to each other through their minds. And bright red/blue not italicized is them talking outloud.
Gold_Star_For_Robot_Boy
Sadistic Nox
_pork_sodaa_
Posted: Sun Jun 23, 2019 5:54 pm
▲▽▲▽▲Y O H A N ☆ C L E M E N T I N E▲▽▲▽▲
Yohan could feel the back of his throat and tongue run dry, head bowing upwards till he was sure the taller of the two could kiss the heavens with his fingertips - his height not the only thing ascertaining how intimidating he appeared, whether deliberate or not. The humanoid figure wore the face of bewilderment; intrigue and curiosity - perhaps even fear - taking a backseat to the tsunami of emotions overwhelming his consciousness. But, despite all of this, he didn't feel like they were dangerous, although they could very well squash him if they so happen to choose. Hopefully, that wouldn't be the case. The thought was unpleasant, to say the least, and he visibly looked anxious as his overwrought stare shifted toward the smaller of the pair; dressed in flowing robes embellished with golden threads, something that would've been quite nice to look at if it wasn't for the sudden withdrawal of his rampant thoughts and the forced admission of foreign ones. At that moment, it felt as if time and space had carefully drifted into a gradual and poised cessation, and the only people present were him and Sebrael.
Voices. Unwelcome voices. Noises and jumbled up words that might have held meaning and value but were lost in translation. They were loud, echoing off the corners of his mind and leaving the rims of his ears tingling with fluctuations. They were beautiful, lulling his anxiousness into still, peaceful silence. It was unconditionally ethereal, and he hated it. His previously opened eyes increasingly became half-lidded and cloudy as the voices increasingly began to invade his mindscape, an abhorrent feeling of not being able to dictate his own thoughts griping him in--well, not fear, since Sebrael's presence made Yohan feel at peace with himself even if he was initially fighting against the whirlwind of erratic nature of these otherworldly thoughts.
Then, abruptly, the atmosphere cocooning around them took a dramatic shift in tone. Yohan's head tilted to meet the celestial who stood before him, his heart parading around his chest in a way that left him feeling more breathless than he already had been - the beating of his heart echoing in the drums of his ears. Such sanctity, such euphoria--something he's never been privy to since the day he was born. The ecstatic feeling was so overwhelming that he could barely comprehend that his name was being uttered through the most prominent voice of all - that is, before the love, the divinity, all of it, gone. Within the blink of an eye, literally or figurately, it had ended, leaving a rather disoriented Yohan to fathom what had just happened.
And, to that, he had no answer.
His pulse had slowed into something a little more manageable, but he felt just as troubled as when he had exited the building standing behind him. He didn't even notice that St. Vier was accompanying him in the face of these giants. He had to leave. Yes, yes--that's what he must do. Stick with the plan, investigate the strange inhabitants of Ozymandias another day, or perhaps never. He had enough on his plate already, with being entrusted with the task of taking care of Clementine and all, that 'obstacles' such as these only seemed to burden him further. Still, Yohan was in a state of shock even if his face didn't appear as such. His knees felt weak and his legs wobbled, but he managed to rip his gaze from Sebrael as soon as he diverted his attention toward St. Vier and the two newfangled protectors at his side. Their undesirable appearance seemed to snap him out of his stupor, and he quickly nodded toward St. Vier, unaware of his true identity, and murmured something under his breath before heading toward the doors, ``I'll . . . be on my way, Father.`` And with that, he parted his entry into the doorway and quickly gathered his hulking bag of supplies, falling to Clementine's side in an attempt to urge her out of her slumber, but to no avail. She was still breathing, snoring, even, but she refused to wake and solely responded to his efforts with a sputter of groans.
With a click of his tongue and only the thought of leaving on his mind, he shucked their backpacks off of his weathered back and leaned forth, angling her body skyward before gently shifting her face into the nook of his neck, lifting her arms around his shoulders until their chests were firmly pressed together and one of his arms managed to support all of her weight while the other held both of their packs in between his fingers.
Hoisting her up, he glanced around for any more visible exits. All of the windows were barred and the entranceway was the only present solution, although there were some hallways leading into the back. However, Yohan wasn't going to take the chance of meandering around a building without any knowledge of who resided in it and whether or not they were armed.
He sifted around for more options but ultimately there weren't any, his footsteps leading him back toward the wooden door in lethargic succession. It would be a shame that the pair wouldn't be able to take refuge at Haven despite it being shady as all hell, and with each step that he took with Clementine asleep on his front side and their heavy rucksacks doing nothing but weighing him down - he couldn't foresee himself making much progress through Ozymandias in that tired state of his, no matter how hard he persevered.
Of course, he's a stubborn little thing. Yet it wouldn't hurt to allow himself enough rest to continue on their journey every once in a while, and perhaps a few associates if he truly wanted to take Clementine to the coast - where they could hopefully settle down after months of being in and out of captivity and on the run from bounty and slave hunters.
~ OOC ~
Sorry for the delay! I was handling some business and other replies on different forums and of the like, but I'm back now!
Gold_Star_For_Robot_Boy
Sadistic Nox
SamTheRobot
_pork_sodaa_
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Gold_Star_For_Robot_Boy Crew
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Posted: Sun Jul 07, 2019 12:35 pm
••• St. × Vier
St. Vier’s gaze flickered over the ape-like creature set between and before the giants, noting its fear and dismissing it in turn before he moved ever more forward, gaze turned decidedly up. In another context, another time, he would have wanted the creature, as he did all sapient animals, human like and otherwise. There was always a market. The life for something like Bonboo, sold out, was not a glorious one--at best she would be a pet. Her lack of human facial structure made her prospects far worse, more likely to end in crueler degradation, perhaps as food.
With these other sights available, St. Vier had no glance to spare in her direction. His gaze flickered down to the small items the lesser giant let fall from his hand, but of course he made no move to take anything. He was captured, far more, by any slight movement the other made with his wings. St. Vier had captured winged creatures before, but as he looked on the feathery expanse opening before him now, he could not think that the creatures had had anything really resembling what was being shown before him now.
Some perverse part of him recognized his own fascination, and had the distance to wonder at it. So usually full of devotion, St. Vier had been drained of any particular religiosity by the fight he had just endured; the worship he’d received. However he usually moved through the world, he was in a rare state of--atheism was an entirely wrong descriptor but closer than most other things. A-theism, maybe. He had been successfully worshipped, and now his body’s capabilities hung in tatters. Maybe he simply didn’t have the energy.
As the first of the giants spoke, he felt--something. A pressure against his psyche. If he had never encountered Volithius, never felt the unwelcome pressure of the link between them that the scientist had created in better times, he might have entirely panicked at the sheer -weight- of the mind that settled into his consciousness and spoke into the depths there.
He has a sense of vastness, and his nose bleeds, but he maintains his expression, a solicitous smile aimed upwards. The flow of blood is sluggish, gathering at his upper lip.It’s a fine counter to the untidy scrawl of stitches that already hold one eye closed; the brilliant red of the ‘white’ of the other.
”I am St. Vier” he confirmed, with a brightening of his smile that sent the blood in a horizontal line alone his upper lip. He wouldn’t describe himself as a trader, but he’s certainly not going to combat the characterization now.
His focus flickered toward Yohan and Clementine when the former acknowledged him, and beside him one of the Kirs stirred, ready to follow the man if he did in fact manage to make it away. St. Vier wasn’t about to let a desirable slave--certainly not two, and one female--leave to tell stories about how dangerous St. Vier’s Haven was. Haven existed in an odd kind of liminal space. Those well acquainted with the area knew it as a danger, but those new in town were often drawn to it. With that in mind, St. Vier certainly couldn’t let Yohan leave.
”Sadistic Nox”
”_pork_sodaa_”
” SamTheRobot”
Posted: Wed Aug 07, 2019 1:33 am
Sebrael------------------Juramae
The older angel was relieved to have found the right place and person, although the 'expression' on his lower lips never betrayed his stoic lower face. His armored head turned slightly into his brothers direction not a moment after the pale male had confirmed his identity. He then spoke in the form that they often did. "He looks weak." It was obvious that the small humanoid being had gone through quite a rough situation and not knowing the full details left a lot to the imagination. The appearance of the stitched eye was much less unsightly than the Kirs whose presence was almost a disfigurement to the situation.
"Injured." Sebrael responded matter-of-factly with a gentle smile. His eyes were firmly pointed down at the seemingly godly man. He too had his own speculations about the situation that lead to such an abused sight but silent he remained.
"Same thing." The older angel replied rather presumptuously, "Did you attempt to speak with him?"
"I did. I believe I've injured him further." Sebrael noted as his eyes trailed along the new line of blood above the priests upper lip. It seemed as though he'd caused unintentional harm to multiple parties today and he would do better to refrain from making unwanted connections from now on. If all went well, and he hoped it would, he would no longer need to test connections. The fact that despite this, St. Vier's smile never wavered was quite an interesting development. He perhaps truly was a man of their lord.
The taller of the two gave a nod of his head to affirm that he understood, asserting that Vier himself was not human or not nearly enough, before his attention returned to the man and his Kirs. "These ones require a human. Does St. Vier have a human to trade with these ones?" Juramae asked with little regard for his blunt and dry tone. The taller angel seemed to want to get right to the point while the shorter one's eyes now wandered around the area, looking at the church and the trees. It wasn't idle gazing though. What they had to trade would need a certain environment and Sebrael was certain that this area was good enough.
OOC Sorry for the super tiny post guys. I've been trying to type all night and I've got too many people vying for my attention. I wanted to get something out so you guys could post though and I didn't want to wait another two days for silence.
Gold_Star_For_Robot_Boy
Sadistic Nox
_pork_sodaa_
SamTheRobot
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Posted: Sat Aug 24, 2019 2:20 pm
••• St. × Vier
The more the giant creatures spoke among themselves, the less their sheer presence broke at the corners of his mind.
That wasn’t to say that he wasn’t still entranced—indeed, one might have said his attention became more focused, more entire, even as the Kirs at his side shifted in apparent displeasure (an unusual show of emotion for them; but then, it was likely the first time they’d been confronted for any real length of time with a humanoid creature so much larger than they were that they were not actively attempting to subdue).
He couldn’t understand all of their speech—or, no, maybe he could have, if he’d really put in the effort to do so. But there was something elevated; too much; like a fable of a beetle trying to understand jazz. There was some similar rhythm to make sense of the idea, and if the beetle really tried (with all of the anthropomorphized power granted by the structure of the fable itself)…
He understood, he thought, what he needed to. He certainly understood the request, for a ‘human.’
Well, he had lots of ‘humans.’
The idea that this was a business transaction loosened him, and the Kirs at his side loosened too, becoming less obviously distressed and more obviously—nothing in particular. St. Vier’s nose continued to bleed, and he raised a scratched and abraded hand to wipe the blood away before answering.
”Of course” he responded smoothly, because of course he had whatever these creatures wanted. That was his business.
”What kind of human do you require?” Usually, he would have invited a couple of customers in to the apsidal chapel so that he could safely exhibit some of his wares and show the limits of his training. That was impossible now.
