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Post by LochNess on Jan 8, 2016 18:57:14 GMT
It rubbed Arabelle wrong at first that this lamia seemed to withhold her own personal introduction due to "classification." It settles as the woman seems content to tell her as much as she was told by the newly-ranked officer. She ponders over this stranger a moment with various thoughts running rampant in her mind. Still, the question about Corpus's purpose kind of throws her off. "As far as I know, it's to maintain peace between the supernatural and humans. We silence those who insist on usurping the peace." No doubt there is more to it than that, but that's what she was told in training. She has no desire to answer based on the violent incident in her past that cost her her family. They could very well know it, but she won't be the one to bring it up. "That's all there is to it, right?" She says with a tilt of her head.
Rian is oblivious to any stares from those passing by. He could care less for them, too. In his mind, those people are mere specks in the background, insignificant and hardly more than decor for the city to him. He happily sets up commissions, not bothering with the bed and dresser one bit. He amuses Aeron with getting rid of the bed and dresser, helping him gladly by taking off the sheets and comforter. Though he is terrible at folding them considering his lack of experience with such house work. With all the room to paint and create now for him, Rian sets up the works. Easels are lined up. Some are dry and ready to go. Some are still a work in progress and not needing to be finished for another week. His personal creations are hung in his own room for his own pleasure. It's only when he hears the sound of Aeron's piano that he halts in settling in. He's certainly skilled at the very least in his line of work. He'd have to to impress the rich people and to ultimately afford such an abode. Still, it actually inspires an idea in his mind. He takes to the converted spare bedroom to prepare an easel and canvas for his idea.
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Post by OokamiShinjo on Jan 9, 2016 2:59:26 GMT
"Not quite," Ayla denies as she 'stands' and makes a motion for the young woman to follow her out of the training room. They won't be actually training today- or at least not in that room. As they walk down the halls, the lamia leads the nephilim along to take a sudden right and stop at a wall. Like any good organization, it too has hidden passages that only the higher ups know of. This passage however isn't all that important, so it's okay to show Officers like Arabelle. A simple hand on the wall in a certain spot brings the section of it in front of them up, opening into a velvet carpeted hallway with textured walls and a simple light hanging from the ceiling each spaced neatly one after another. And on the walls directly in perfect condition are various pictures. The first three people are those Arabelle should have been taught about during her training. They are the creators of Corpus, the three men that stepped forward and put the company together with the mindset to bring along some sort of piece. To an extent. Only one of them is obviously human, the other two look like a half breed and a full on non-human. After these three are the pictures of the previous leaders of Corpus all the way to the current ones, the two men and one woman Ayla had a meeting with not too long ago. "The men who created this organization wanted to bring peace, yes," she tells the young woman, "They did want to see an equality come about humans and those deemed non-human- Supernaturals as the media call us as a whole. And as such they taught their operatives to function as a soldier and a spy, but also as a civilian, open to new ways and mindsets. To punish those that threat this peace that we work to maintain are indeed punished; we're basically the police for Supernaturals. However there is a darker, more simplistic, goal that has stood in the shadows of Corpus since the beginning. There is one man that more than anything we want to kill.....Have to kill is more like it. In the past he has created great mayhem and suffering for reasons no one has been able to understand. He was a dark and cruel creature, capable of unspeakable power and cruelty. Now a days, he is less hostile, opting to stay near a single bloodline for all of his days. However, many of us have seen him in battle. The cruelty is still very much there; we need to get rid of him before he becomes bored with the bloodline he seems so fond of and reverts to what he once was". Upon coming to the end of the narrow, poorly lit hall, Ayla pushes open a set of tall brass doors, both which creek as they're opened. This room is very rarely visited from this direction. The room itself has a wooden black stained floor, and although covered in a nice polish, is obviously old. The walls are the color of blood, shades darker from the carpet they step off of, a single brilliant chandelier hanging above them lights the entire room up upon their entrance. Along the walls are pictures again, but each is of a single man and the changes he's taken on through out the years. The one closest to them to their left is actually someone Arabelle should be able to recognize even though there is no stiff casualness about him, but rather a dead, cold look wit lips pulled int a thin line and clothing not nearly as well kept. The same goes for the wild mop of hair on his head. He looks directly at the camera that dared take his photo, not at all bothered as to why it's being taken in the first place. To their right, is a picture dated about twenty years or so ago. The man looks much better kept, warmer and happier to an extent. He stands on a tall tower, the picture seeming to have been taken by a passing helicopter or something of the sort. His eyes are locked onto something far below him, not that the picture shows who or what it is. But the look in his eye is gentle and caring, warm even. A far cry from the first picture. The other photos all are depicted to show his change from a rough monster to something softer and kinder. Between each framed blown up photo is a list of things they know about him. Ranging from weaknesses- such list is incredibly short- to abilities to personality quirks he's picked up over the years. "This man is older than even Corpus," which is old in and of itself, "And he is our main target for elimination". Now she stands across from the biggest photo of them all- it's a painting really, something strangely on point when comparing it to photos or other simple drawings depending on when the image was taken. It's a full body painting, the field around the beast is on fire, blood spattered across the once green, now withering, grass. Behind him lays a small city in rubble, bodies dismembered or disemboweled altogether. The man's lips are pulled into what many have seen as a terrifying snarl, fangs bared and covered in the blood of one of his victims. He's dressed in a tattered suit, the picture is in color as his large hand, impressively clawed, grips a head he had recently pulled from its shoulders. A woman's head that strangely looks similar to Ayla's herself; its face is pulled into screwed up pain and fear, eyes torn from their sockets and jaw hanging from its hinges broken and uesless. Blood dribbles as he seems to walk towards the viewer. What's more, there seems to be some sort of aura around his body as his eyes glow such a lively red it shouldn't exist. His blond spiky hair is messy and matted with blood that doesn't seem to be his own. "Vampire, nosferatu, bloodsucker, damned soul, monster, bringer of suffering and, beast, death incarnate, whatever you want to call him....He is our main target. It is our main goal to bring great suffering to him, and then kill him. Corpus has many times over managed to cause him suffering by taking away those he cares for most- those from the bloodline he protects like a mother bear does her cub- and have brought forth his wrath even more. Despite this, we have never actually come close to killing him. Enraging him, yes. Bringing him suffering, yes. But close to killing him? Never. We've lost hundreds if not thousands of good men and women trying to kill him; all have failed. This man before us is the bane of our existence". She pauses, having been staring ahead at this full body painting the whole time she had been talking once they got there. "There will come a day where your skills and my own will be called upon to get the upper hand on this creature. When that time comes....You're bound to be playing chicken with death itself". A warning, and the truth.
Aeron pays little mind to the fact that Rian isn't good at housework- he's not much better himself, only slightly succeeding when it comes to folding a damn fitted sheet. He's never been so happy that he doesn't actually use sheets in his life. It was a simple struggle, but an annoying one as well. The vampire smiles into his difficult song, fingers dancing gracefully over each and every white or black key he needs to strike. It's actually a song he's been working to perfect for a couple weeks now, having only heard it recently hand having fallen in love with it. And yet he can still feel the eyes. Those eyes that dare stare at himself and his charge. Those eyes that seek nothing short of blood shed. Aeron's eyes narrow dangerously, shoulders tensing to the point of stiffness and muscle strain. His playing stops, and he heads to Rian's room where he can hear an unfamiliar voice. The eyes follow him, but the voice doesn't stop talking.
While Aeron had been playing his pretty little song, the man had easily snuck into the room.....Okay, so easily isn't exactly the word he would use. But admitting that it took all his skill at hand to actually succeed doesn't make him feel as cool. So 'easily' it is. "My, what pretty pictures," speaks up soon after Rian has set to his idea that had popped into his head. "And all done by you, I see. How talented you are my boy". He ignores any questions about who he is and instead strolls around the room with his hands behind his back, a carelessness and cockiness to his stride. His eyes tense ever so slightly and narrow when he realizes that the target is carefully approaching Rian's room. "If I had your ability I don't know what I'd do with myself. Such skill," he coos. The taunt in his voice hints at the possibility that perhaps he isn't all that impressed after all, and that he's mocking the young man. Only he knows.
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Post by LochNess on Jan 9, 2016 16:09:33 GMT
Arabelle trots after Ayla as she decides to leave the training room and give her a tour of some super secret room. She listens to the woman closely as she explains the true purpose of Corpus, of this strange man. She had her suspicions of who this enemy is, but it was only wild assumptions until she saw the room at the end. After looking at image after image down the hall, the room decorated with nothing but images and information on such a familiar face, her eyes widen as they immediately go to the most recent image, looking very much like a certain stalker that's failed Rian. She gazes around, looking at the earliest depictions they have of him, reading off the boards to know everything about him. Oh, how she could expose him if he's truly this vicious vampire of the past! She hesitates to admit, though. "What do you mean by 'get rid' of the bloodline," she asks. If she indeed says kill, Arabelle says, "Why not just capture and keep them in secret until we destroy this man?" She wants to hear her answers before admitting to seeing this man, or at least someone an awful lot like him. She may even keep it to herself, and investigate in her spare time. Hopefully dinner tomorrow night will be the best opportunity to do so. She stops on the image of Aeron holding a head in one of his hands. How bloody. It's almost exhilarating somewhere deep within Arabelle's mind, but it's hardly a distraction from the situation at hand.
Rian almost messes up the beginning of his new idea when the strange voice spoke up. He turns slowly, finding the strange man in his room. Rian stares impassively at the fool. "So are you the housekeeper?" He says to the man. Surely he is, otherwise he'd be an intruder begging for punishment. The paintbrush is set down, and Rian faces the stranger fully now, with hands stuffed in his pocket as if he's care-free about be situation. Though, it's really him taking hold of a large pocket knife he keeps. He hears no more music, so surely Aeron heard his voice. If he's a threat, Aeron shall be better prepared. "Ah, these truly are half-assed, though," he bluffs, throwing at the stranger a smirk. "So, housekeeper. I'm kinda hungry. Can you make a little bit of dinner, or will I be forced to call in extra servants after all?" He narrows his eyes, daring the stranger to answer him in anyway that would make him need to draw the knives in his pockets.
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Post by OokamiShinjo on Jan 13, 2016 3:01:37 GMT
Ayla raises a brow, "Kill of course," she answers the first question without hesitation. "We had attempted that at first. Don't get me wrong, Corpus did not turn directly to killing the bloodline right away. In the past we had attempted to make it seem like we killed the bloodline's holder and kept them encaged secretly. This did not work as the vampire in his rage attacked our bases until he accidentally found his beloved. It was one of the times where Corpus was brought to an end. Another time, the bloodline heir actually managed to escape on their own terms, having seduced the guards into releasing her and managed to sneak out. A third time we tried it, which was the most recent, he seemed to instantly know that the person wasn't dead". She pauses as her eyes once more trail to the bleeding head in the full body painting, "Etzli Arrats is his name, by the way". Done explaining all this, she turns away from the painting and leaves the room through a different door, this one automatically raising to show a set of long winding stairs. "Now...Before I actually begin to train you...I'd like to test your field abilities. Seeing as you have been promoted before 'graduation' so to speak, and seeing as I was not given your file I know nothing of her physical abilities". She makes her way up the stairs, body rising to catch the ledge of each higher step as she goes. "It's a mere obstical course, to be honest. However you will be required to not only get through it within a certain amount of time whilst gathering the 'file' required from a safe guarded computer within a vault. Some enemies you will be permitted to right out take down. Others you will have to 'assassinate' or knock out. There will be subtle hints as to which ones you attack- signs along the walls and in places you do not expect or ways they hold themselves- in which way. There will be also 'civilians' looking to get in your way or simply hindering you in some fashion". As they reach the top of the stairs, she flips on a switch to show something of a large observation booth. On the left far side of this booth is another, swinging, door that leads to the interestingly large room. "This is the basement and so long as you pass today you will be to go through this course at higher levels as you please. But only IF you succeed". She doesn't bother with going over what should happen should she fail. "I will be monitoring your progress on this screen. Once you reach the finish line at the end of the room, you will be dismissed and permitted to go home for the evening".
Housekeeper? That's a first at being called as such, "Well, I suppose I do clean up the trash," only when given the orders however. And not the kind of trash the average person deals with. "Haha! You're funny, kiddo. 'Half-assed'? I find that rather hard to believe," the stranger runs a pale, slender fingered hand along one of the paintings, tracing the lines of the figures and shapes on the canvas. These fingers walk to the next painting as well, caressing the art as though they were a woman's curves. "I can basically taste the hard work you put into these little art pieces. Minutely, his shoulders tense as the 'eyes' he uses to follow the master of the house 'see' him just behind the threshold of the door. He's waiting for the proper time to strike. As he drags his fingers along each article of art, his nails slowly grow into something more like claws, pointed and razor sharp for the perfect use of killing. His ears, once round now taper themselves and the eyes in their sockets loose their casual look. Hell, there are no eyes in those sockets, just bottomless holes in his head. Two horns slowly sprout themselves from his forehead, arching back like ram's horns, while a forked tongue replaces his normal one and a split tail sprout from his butt. The final portion of the final portion of his transformation is the thickening of his muscles from under his white shirt and the deterioration of his skin accompanied by the smell of simple death. "I'm afraid you're going to have to cook yourself something, dear boy. Because although I consider myself a decent chef, the dead do not deserve to have a meal before they go". Faster than lightning, the white haired man whips around, showing his shark toothed snarl to the human as he lunges, rushing to the boy whom he knows has only a pocket knife in his pocket to protect him.
Aeron was only half willing to let the intruder go, listening to the conversation between his wary friend and the unwelcome guest. As long as that guest didn't attack Rian, Aeron would let him go with either a threat or minor injuries depending on if he put up a fight regardless or not. However, he can feel the air shift with tension and killer intent as the Supernatural being seems to go from what he looks like to something different. He can hear the sound of the claws lengthening, the tail and horns sprouting, even the rate of his heart increasing due to blood lust and adrenaline. And then he hears the tell tale sign of someone attacking Aeron's precious person. He wings his large body around the threshold of the door, blurry to the average person but no where near his top speed. Before the white haired Supernatural can even so much as get less than a foot from Rian, Aeron latches his hand around the smaller person's throat, stopping him in his tracks. His once oceanic eyes turn to that of ruby, his own fingernails twisting into claws and his ears tapering, fangs that barely fit in his mouth flashing as he snarls at the being in his grasp. "Step off, Apocalypse Demon," he demands, a growl rumbling lowly in his chest. The sound of the choking lower creature doesn't bother him. "What do you think you're doing here?" This type of demon isn't very strong unless with the other Apocalypse Demons, especially since this one is a Plague Apocalypse Demon. It's just like their kind to sneak in and attack like some sort of sickness.
"Oh," the demon chuckles, his rancid breath wafting across his captor's face. Said captor makes no notion of being disturbed by the smell as most would. "Just visiting".
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Post by LochNess on Jan 13, 2016 3:45:53 GMT
Arabelle maintains an impassive expression despite her new sense of danger for her closest "friend." If this Aeron is truly who she suspects, it would make Rian a target as well, and she wouldn't want harm to come to him. It will be delicate work that ultimately is to be kept private for his sake. She'll want to remove the threat with out taking out the poor soul who's been stalked much of his life. Still, she narrows her eyes at the name provided to her. "Etzli Arrats," she repeats under her breath. This should allow her to further research the man on her own. Maybe he'll even be a link to the initial reason she joined this organization. It's a fleeting hope, as it would then kill two birds with one stone to track down his link to both topics. She mulls over these things while following Ayla past another set of doors. She's only brought back to reality at the mention of testing her abilities. She's more than capable, she feels, to do as this woman expects from her this course. It's not really appealing to run one now that she's been promoted, but she won't complain. Especially if it means she may go home. A smile appears on her face. "Alrighty then. Just let me know when to start, and I'll beat this lousy course." She enters the basement, and waits for what ever signal to start. Like a bullet fired from a gun, she speeds off through the insult so course. She maintains a swift, steady speed, knowing well to maintain some sense of stamina. She climbs, walks over, and swings on ropes, scales ten-meter walls, etc. her worst hang up is determining friend from foe. While she observes for signs of alliance or opposition along the walls as Ayla described, she often times came upon the people faster than expected. I with no mention of whether they're good or bad people, she'd have to slow almost to a stop and look. Friends are left immediately, and enemies she "kills" by knocking them out with a swift, violent knock to the head. Despite this, she makes decent time.
"Oh, so you should be throwing yourself out," Rian says with a little smirk on his face. His expression stumbles into a mild frown when he's referred to as "kiddo" by the intruder. It's certainly not something his pride enjoys. He watches with an intense stare as the stranger touches his art work. He wants so bad to rip off the hand touching the canvases, not liking that his oily fingers are all over it. Even if the man compliments his work as he does so. Not even Aeron or Arabelle would be tolerated if they did the same. "Oi! That doesn't mean you can mess with them," he shouts as the nails elongate and glide over the works. Now, Rian is furious, but also very terrified. He knows this is truly a supernatural world. Hell, even he isn't entirely human anymore. Much of the population now is mixed to a degree. But, to see something so extremely inhuman and violent honestly scared him. "Ah... AHHH!" He says, backing away just before Aeron decided to intervene. He watches, with his little knife drawn and ready to cut in case the demonic thing comes after him again. Though, Aeron is no less human than the demon, it would seem. He gapes at the new roommate. He had suspected something supernatural from the moment he was swept away to safety earlier today, but seeing Aeron as he is now makes Rian fully realize just how in over his head he is in this strange world! he focuses as the intruder admitted to just visiting. "You just tried to trash my livelihood, burglar," he tells him with an irritated expression.
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Post by OokamiShinjo on Jan 14, 2016 23:58:49 GMT
Ayla understands the young woman's slight skepticism, seeing as a test after being promoted doesn't make much sense. However, this isn't a test to see if she actually is worth the promotion, but rather what Ayla will have to help the girl build better skills in. She watches with a selective eye, taking note that Arabelle isn't as good at deciding who is friend and who is foe despite the hint that was given compared to how she does with taking people out and getting around things in her way. Still, she does make decent time for a novice Officer. Better than most higher ranked Officers really, some of which had the duty of being the 'enemy' on the course. Taking a lazy short cut, she meets up with the young woman and congratulates, "Very good. However we'll have to up your skills at telling friend from foe. You need to be able to tell after only a few seconds of contact with them. Any longer could mean your life in this line of work". Still, she permits, "You're free to leave for the day. I will not be in tomorrow as I have classes, therefore you're permitted to do as you please. The next day however we'll do something...Interesting". She honestly has no idea what yet but no matter.
"Visiting huh?" Aeron mocks darkly, red eyes narrowed into glowing slits. His grip tightens enough to cut off the demon's air for a moment. "Bullshit. Who ordered you to infiltrate this place?"
The beast chuckles despite the spittle dribbling down his chin from choking, "Like I'd tell you". The claws that dig into his flesh cause his blood now to flow freely down his throat. "If you kill me, that'll trigger a reaction. I'm a pretty important dude you know," he threatens. He 'looks' to Rian, a small sneer lifting his lips further up, "You wouldn't want any thing....Bad....To happen to your new friend, would you?"
"As if I'd allow it," the vampire denies lowly, "I protect my friends well, I assure you". His eyes drift to the shocked and still rather prone frame of the artist slash student, wary of his current reaction. It's obvious that the young man didn't expect something like this to happen. He pauses, wondering if he should kill this person or not......He honestly would prefer to not kill in front of his precious person. He doesn't want to taint the lad's mind with the memory of a corpse. And on top of that, blood is incredibly difficult to get out of an expensive carpet like the one in Rian's new make shift gallery. Turning to the nearest window, he opens it and promptly holds the Apocalypse Demon outside, dangling him in the air. "Tell your 'master' that we don't take kind to those that arrive without an invitation first," he demands before crushing the demon's wind pipe and releasing him. He knows that the fall nor the crushing of the windpipe won't do anything to kill the demon. Despite being weak, his kind are highly resistant to damage. He closes the window a little too roughly but doesn't care as he glares at the 'corpse' on the ground. Seconds later, he watches it stand and disappear into the shadows. Wonderful. Just what he needed of the first night he actually got to talk to his precious person. Just perfect. Slowly, Aeron turns and looks at Rian, giving him a once over to make sure that physically he's fine. He is, of course, seeing as Aeron made sure no physical contact came between the intruder and the target. "Are you okay?" He questions even as his change reverts. As he speaks, the fangs shrink to normal but still sharp canines, his ears go back to being rounded and his eyes bleed from red to blue- though for a moment they are purple as the colors mix ever so slightly. "He didn't scare you too badly did he?" He dare not get closer to the young man than five feet, fearful that maybe the sudden sight of his 'other self'- so to speak- may have frightened him.
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Post by LochNess on Jan 15, 2016 0:45:30 GMT
Arabelle tilts her head at the snake lady. As far as she could tell, she did just fine minus one or two little allies lying dead! Well, it's more than that, but she won't easily admit it. No way! Still, when she's given the rest of the day, the little nephillim nodded. "Yes, ma'am!" She cheers with a smile. A delicate hand is tossed over her shoulder in a wave, for Arabelle immediately turned to leave. While she will certainly enjoy this job, she too will enjoy spending time when she can on herself. For now, there are errands to get done. They seem rather dry, but they are necessary to live in comfort here in this world. Bills, groceries, blah blah blah. With this amped up paycheck, though, she ought to be able to start eating more than the super cheap ramen noodles. In her mind, she recalls that she and Rian had made dinner plans. Having tomorrow free will allow her to indulge him enough. So long he's the one to pay like always, she will create a damn feast for them. Still, she considers it as she whips out her phone, texting Rian with out the slightest suspicion that they are currently kicking out a certain intruder. "Hey," she texts. "We still on for dinner tomorrow?" The phone is slipped into her pocket from there, as she wants to keep her eyes on the world around her unless she needs to answer Rian's reply. She heads off to do her boring shopping and bill-paying.
Rian watches with out a word as Aeron disposes of the demonic intruder so cruelly. In fact, once the demon is gone and Aeron addresses Rian as he's used to, Rian falls into a state of stubborn disbelief at what he saw. His eyes glance over the new room mate countless times. Yes. It was all just in his head. A haha! He tells himself this in his mind as he smirks and waves his hand at Aeron. Finally, he finds his voice to say, "How cruel can you be?" with teasing laugh. "He wasn't scary," he insists. In truth, he was more shocked by the unexpected than frightened. "He was more so annoying. He kept mouthing off when I asked him to make dinner for me. He was truly a poor example of house keepers everywhere." He laughs it off one more time. "Now then, may I ask what you like to do in your spare time besides play instruments?" In truth, Aeron truly interested Rian now, as he entertains what he's convinced to be a delusion of a nasty-looking-Aeron. He never notices his phone go off, not for the moment.
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Post by OokamiShinjo on Jun 13, 2016 1:14:49 GMT
Ayla watches the girl go, ignoring the look of displeasure that may have flashed across her face upon learning that they'll need to up her abilities. The lamia has nothing nearly as boring as bill paying or grocerie shopping to do, fortunately or unfortunately. Instead, she merely has the duty of filling out some documents about her new apprentice that will be filed into the system by some other person at a later date. With her mind free to wander, however, it flashes to the large picture that they had been looking at, the dangling of the woman's head that looked so familiar to her own. Her red eyes narrow and her slim shoulders tense. In a fit of her displeasure, her fist slams against the nearest object, the power of the strike rushing through the innocent thing as it breaks instantly under the impact. Hitting even just one thing was enough to help her calm herself down, if only barely, in order to lock up the area and head home herself. She was serious about having classes tomorrow after all and she does not plan to be late let alone absent from them in the slightest. For now, for Ayla the night is just about done. What a very long day it's been.
Aeron isn't quite certain, to be honest, whether or not the human before him is frightened and pretending to be brave or pretending that what he just saw of Aeron's sudden change to be fake. Or perhaps he really didn't see for some reason. He dare not prod about it either way. Instead he smiles a kind smile, pleased to find Rian hanging in there strongly if only for the sake of his own sanity. "You don't want to know," he chuckles back, half truthful an half joking himself. However the question of what he likes to do other than play instruments throws him for a loop. He certainly can't just up and say 'I watch over you day in and day out because you are the blood of the woman I loved hundreds of years ago, an I promised to protect her kin until the day I die'. No, that wouldn't come off as a good thing at all. In fact, that would make him seem like the stalker he honestly is. And he also can't say 'I pretend to sleep in my free time because it's fun to pretend to be in a half dead state for eight or more hours a day because I can't actually sleep myself'. That also sounds keepy. He doesn't read for fun, nor does he cook or anything like that..... "It's kind of pompus to admit, considering the type of hobby it is," he scratches the back of his head as though embarrassed. But actually he's hoping that this will at least partially satisfy his beloved charge's curiosity, "I go horse back riding".
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Post by LochNess on Aug 13, 2016 2:01:03 GMT
Arabelle spends the rest of the evening doing rather mundane tasks. The bed she comes back to, though foreign, is very welcoming. It's truly been a long day. She soaks in a steamy bath for almost an hour. In fact, she almost falls sleep! The only reason that didn't happen was she we jerked awake when sunk low enough that the water nearly went up her nose. "Time for bed," she mumbles once she knows she is safe. The soft rug beside the tub welcomes her chilled, sopping-wet feet as she steps out. Once dry, she returns to her room and collapses on the bed. Not an inch of her budged until her alarm goes off at the crack of dawn the next morning. No matter her irritable protests of moans, the alarm clock refused to be silent. Perhaps 15 minutes later, she finally gets up from her bed and stops her alarm. "I hate mornings," she complains. Half blind with sleep, she stumbles to slip on clothes and go find some breakfast.
Rian raises a brow. Horse back riding? Where? Sure, there's farms outside the city, but that would seem more of an annoyance to himself at least. "Well what ever," he says, seemingly uninterested now. "I do know I'm tired from this busy day. If you don't mind, I think I'll turn in for the night." And he does just that. He sleeps well until the morning light shines bright through the bedroom windows into his face. "Gee," he mutters. Next time, he'll be sure to shut the curtains. He gets up and looks around. He had expected all this to be but a dream he had last night, but that thought burns away as the new, fancy room is illuminated in splendor around him. He has no time to stare, for his stomach leads him to go find food. He scurries in his PJs down to the kitchen. Should his new host be there, he beckons him a good morning. "You sure it's ok to let my friend come by tonight?" He checks in on this. He can't way to gloat to Arabelle about his grand luck. She'll be so pissed off! He feels a smug grin on his face just imagining it.
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Post by OokamiShinjo on Aug 22, 2016 1:29:32 GMT
Ayla wakes up far before sunrise the next morning, unable to sleep more than a few hours as per usual. The constant yearning for her revenge and a mere habit of waking up at 'ass o' clock in the morning keeping her from sleeping more than maybe four hours at a time. The snake woman had gone home and went to sleep right away without a shower, having not done much to warrant one right away in the first place. However, in order to help her blood from cooling too fast upon exiting her heated bed and its blankets, she slips into the large shower about three and a half times larger than usual due to her tail's length. Her pink hair turned darker by the water is rubbed, blown dry and brushed through before being put up and she puts on her usual outfit. Once done with the morning ritual, she makes her way out of her house and begins her 'jog' to school. It's more so that she slithers at a relatively fast pace, though she supposes that could be considered a jog all the same. Her mind swirls with the night's horrid dreams as it does every morning, turning her attitude into something dark and twisting her face into an expression that wards away anyone near her. Ayla shakes her head as she stops once on the campus of her college, a large institute towards the edge of the city, and settles on the fountain in the middle of the lands as the sun finally hits her pale skin and scales. With a shake of her head she forcefully drives the morbid thoughts away, and instead begins to mentally create a training program for her new ally. She will certainly need to up her skills, however she knows that at the same time the girl is plenty qualified to go on real missions and the like. Perhaps she should see if she can get Arabelle and her a mission? It's possible. She continues to ignore people as they pass by her, no longer startled by her frame as she sunbathes until she finds herself pleased with her body temperature and readies to head into the cool room of her first class. She hates the windowless room, it situated in the middle of the building, what with its broken AC and inability to keep the room more than fifty five degrees. Even most humans make certain to carry jackets or sweaters with them for class, however from the satchel that carries her belongings she pulls a warm fleece blanket to keep her warm as she tends to suffer the most.
Aeron knows that his statement is a little over the top, though it's not completely a lie. He hasn't gone riding in a good while but he does indeed go to one of the horse farms just outside the city. For him, getting there isn't an issue, and as such he doesn't mind the travel time. Never the less he flashes Rian a smile and makes to leave the gallery room, "Sorry for keeping you up," he apologizes as the young man mentions sleeping, "Sleep well". He lets Rian do whatever he pleases- nightly ritual or whatever- and instead returns to his own room that's hardly ever used. Aeron sighs as he looks at the rarely used bed and then to the coffin carefully hidden at its side, tucked away in away that allows it to blend in with the shadows cast upon the wall and floor regardless of the time of day. He doesn't ever really use that thing unless genuinely drained of energy however he hasn't felt that way in quite some time and as such has taken to the habit of laying still as the dead on his king sized bed with closed eyes and steady breathing. This time though, he figures he could actually use the casket- if only to replenish his energy and further calm the rage that still bubbles under his skin from that earlier attack. The coffin is something of a security blanket in that way, containing the scent of where he had woken up on the first day of his unlife mixed with the scent of his beloved from the past as the lining of the box is a silken substance that she used to sleep on- which he even admits is weird, but he cares not. Aeron undresses swiftly into nothing but boxers and climbs his way into the box and closes the lid without much thought. then, he closes his eyes and waits a few hours. Eight and a half hours later the ancient man had opted to climb out of his 'bed' and stretch his stiff muscles before heading into the kitchen. Given that he doesn't eat people food, he doesn't bother with making breakfast and instead opts to making sure his body is in good condition. A swift jog around the city and then a few hundred hand stand push ups does the trick. It is during his last round of these push ups that he finds Rian making his way into the morning in nothing but his Pjs. He he grins as he continues to shove his still body into the air, perspiration dripping from his nose- because yes, even he can sweat; he's still mostly made of water after all- and matting his spiky locks. "Morning," he greets in turn though his mind flashes to the girl from the afternoon before upon Rian's mentioning of her, "I don't mind if she comes on by. This is as much your home as it is mine now," though of course he'd like to be warned of any of Rian's friends coming over before they do so. "She'll be making us dinner, will she not?" Finished with his push ups, he lets his feet hit the floor and picks up the towel that he had set out for himself, wiping his face and letting it dangle over his shoulders as he wears simple work out slacks and a muscle shirt instead of his military-esque getup. "Have you any plans for the day other than her arrival?"
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