|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Thu Mar 06, 2008 7:56 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Mar 06, 2008 7:59 pm
Cel
Name- Cel
Nicknames- Pest. Dinner.
Species- Jivvin. Afya Rank.
Likes- Lots of things!
Dislikes- Uhh, bad things?
Posts in- Jungle Green
Personality- Poor Cel. Couldn't ask for a sweeter thing, but alas, he's a far cry from the brightest of the bunch. Just see how he sticks to Leraje so faithfully. It's not like he's intentionally trying to kill himself, but Cel's sense of loyalty is a rather overriding facet to his personality, it seems. Oh well. At least he's sweet. And patient. Very very patient.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Mar 06, 2008 8:09 pm
Leraje Name- Leraje Leraikha 
Nicknames- Lera
Species- Demon in human form. Ssh. Don't tell.
Age- ??? Appears to be in his mid-20s
Occupation- Transient. Grand Marquis of Hell (temporary exile).
Hair color- Dark Red
Eye color- Green
Unusual Characteristics- Odd brand on side of neck. Often kept hidden.
Height- 5.11 feet
Weight- 153 lbs
Likes- Quiet. Durem. Cigarettes.
Dislikes- Work. Getting caught shoplifting.
Regular attire- As expected of most any hobos, Leraje's clothing is comprised of layers of discarded clothes, none of it matching and all of it worn. However, his is neater than most others in his class, and considerably more clean.
Posts in- Fire Brick
Personality- Leraje is probably one of the most mellow people one could ever hope to come across. And if one lives in Durem, chances are he'll cross your path more than once. He's a nice enough figure, though not the type who tries to become best friends with everyone he talks to. He's flexible enough to possibly be good at most any simple job he puts his mind to, but Leraje seems to have nothing in the motivation department, which has put him where he is. And yet, despite his predicament, he doesn't seem to much mind. Odd, yes, but not unexpected.
Background- To anyone who claims to have some knowledge of Lera, he is said to have appeared on Durem sometime within the past few years. He's known to live on the outskirts of the town, though he seems to lack a permanent residence. Aside from his time here, nothing of Leraje's background is known.
As it should be.
Truth be told, Leraje is nothing less than a demon. A high-ranking demon. One of Samael's best men, in fact. Or rather, he WAS one of Samael's best men. The creator of great battles and disputes, Leraje's handiwork has been seen throughout the centuries. However, much to the dismay of Hell, Leraje has simply ceased putting forth any work or effort into their cause since World War I. He had been known to take hiatuses before, but Samael was furious that Leraje decided to decide to not work, what with all this new destructive technology lying about and all. So he expelled Leraje from Hell, stuck him on Earth, and declared that Leraje was not allowed back until he creates a massive international conflict.
And so here he is. To all the other demons, such an act would be seen a harsh punishment. To Lera, it's a great vacation! He certainly has no intentions of returning anytime soon.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Mar 06, 2008 8:33 pm
Link More chaos in Leraje's 'household' can be found here.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Mar 06, 2008 8:37 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Mar 09, 2008 8:39 pm
-DINNER! Oh, Wait...-
"Hm? The ******** is this thing?"
Leraje squatted on the shambled remains of his doorstep to his dinky excuse for a shack, frowning at the massive green and black egg that rested just on the edge of said doorstep. This was odd. An egg, just left here? Strange, but okay. He'd seen weirder, as exemplified by Ferox, still asleep inside the shack.
Still. An egg. On his doorstep. What the s**t?
Carefully, Leraje prodded it with one finger. As expected, it reacted like any oversize egg would. It rocked back and forth slightly, but aside from that, nothing.
Huzzah! The egg was safe enough. pleased with his magnificent finding, Leraje rose, hefting the egg up with him. Oof. It was a lot heavier than it looked. That only meant one thing- more eggy goodness inside!
Hey. Food was hard to come by. This was nothing short of a goldmine for him. True, he had no idea HOW he was going to cook this ginormous egg. Bu those were details. Who needed them? This was FOOD, man. FOOD.
"Hey Fer!" he called out as he retreated back into the shack. "Fer! We got some food today."
-----
Ten minutes later and Leraje's tiny camp stove was blazing as mightily as it could, the ragged man picking through his limited assortment of pots and pans in which to cook the massive egg. It would be too big for any of his pots, but perhaps he could pour a bit into a pan and hold the rest in his 'big' pot until he used it up.
Ferox watched curiously, the demonoid quiet for once. He was probably hungry. No shock. The pair was lucky if they managed to get a full meal or two in a day. Ah, the joys of being dumped with Leraje.
Now that he'd mentally sorted out what exactly he was to do, Leraje rose the egg to break it on the pot rim, and--
CRACK.
Wait, what? He hadn't--
Criiiick. CRUCK.
The egg burst apart, forcing both Leraje and Ferox to leap back as if they'd just set off some kind of bomb. Well <********>. There went several meals' worth of food.
Suppressing a disappointed sigh as he shook a terrified Ferox off his leg, Leraje stepped forward once again to take a peek at just what the snot had popped out of the egg. Whatever it was, it as smallish. And furry. And sitting in his good frying pan.
"Hunh."
"Daaady! What is it?"
"Not daddy. Shush."
The little thing, though fresh from it's egg, was already alert, it's huge ears waggling slightly as it stared at Leraje with big too-cute-to-be-allowed eyes.
...Why was it staring? That was creepy. "Uh, hi little... thing..."
"Hi!"
OHSHITITSPOKE. WAIT. Cute furry talking thing? Ka-CHING. One less mouth to feed, and more money in which to feed himself and Ferox. Until he could ditch Ferox, that was. But for now, what do do with it?
"Sooooo." Hey, YOU try thinking of a topic when some little furball exploded out of what was a promise to be good eatin'.
Ferox seemed immensely interested in the little fuzzball, though. Curiously, he lifted himself up to stand with counter support, his little red eyes wide.
"Woooow. Can we keep him?"
s**t. "For the time being yes."
Ferox pouted up at his unwilling adoptive father. "We hafta sell him?"
"Pfft. We can't much eat with the two of us as it is. Not unless we find some way of getting more money."
Aside form getting a decent job. That thought made Leraje shudder. "but for now, he stays."
"Yay!"
"And get out of my frying pan."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Apr 14, 2008 2:25 pm
-Can We Keep It?-
"Sell?"
"Yes. Sell."
"Whazzat?"
"I trade you for money."
"Sell?"
Leraje sighed, rubbing at his temples. "Yes. Sell. You."
"We can't keep him?"
"NO, Ferox. I can barely even afford you."
"Then you'll sell me too?"
"Wish I could."
"Why?"
"AGH."
Leraje stormed out of the hovel he called home, digging in his jacket for the crumpled pack of cigarettes. He needed one. Or two. Or maybe five. This pair was driving him nuts. Finally finding the pack in question, he pulled one of the thin white sticks out as he settled down on the curb. With a casual flick the cigarette was lit. There. Better.
Letting the foul-smelling smoke drift off into the light spring breeze, Leraje began to think. What to do, what to do. More importantly, what the s**t was up with his place being a dumping ground for critters as of late? Was it some sort of bad joke from home? Maybe.He wouldn't be surprised if it was some stray underling or somewhat-friendly rival playing tricks on him.
Hn. Ferox he knew he was saddled with, like it or no. The group who had dumped the kid on him was paying him to raise said kid. No way he was giving away his single steady income source, however small it was. But what about the furry thing? It was cute and fluffy, but...
...Hey! Why not try to find a way to earn some cash of the critter? People liked cute fuzzy things. The critter in his house was cute and fuzzy and could talk. And with talking came intelligence. With intelligence came tricks.
Thaaaat was it...
A smile spread across Leraje's face as he rose, the cigarette still not quite spent. Hah! Didn't think he'd figure that out so quick. Why not train the... whatever it was for some street performance? Leraje knew the streets; he could find good spots to earn some fast cash. Plus the fuzzball would be the one doing all the work. Win-win. Critter stays, he gets money. Yes.
"Okay," he announced to the wide sets of pleading eyes as he entered. "I've figured it out. Fuzzy thing, you can stay."
"Really?" The little thing blinked, then scampered over in joy to rub along Leraje's leg. "Yay!"
"Yes yes, paragon of kindness and all that. However. To stay means you need to work."
"Oh." The things' ears drooped slightly, then perked back up almost instantly. "What do I do?"
"Know any tricks?"
"No."
"Then we're gonna have to learn. We're going to become street performers. Or at least, you are."
"Can I help?"
"Maybe," Leraje replied off-handedly. Ferox, not being cute and fluffy, would require consideration. Freak show, maybe?
"Hooray!" Ferox cheered, oblivious.
"Oh yeah, fuzzball. You need a name still."
"I do?"
"Yeah. Unless you like being called fuzzball."
The little creature fell quite for a moment as he thought. "Sell!"
"...Cel?"
"Yeah!"
Kinda stupid, but whatever. It was happy. "Good enough for me."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
