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 Posted: Wed Jan 15, 2014 9:09 am
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Posted: Tue Jan 28, 2014 7:33 pm
This forum shall be deleted and a new one shall be put up in its place since the other of this rp can no longer participate.
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Posted: Tue Jan 28, 2014 8:48 pm
tiny14xx It's fine, this is where it counts.  The Devil tips his hat to me…An angel in a den of demons would normally paint a much different picture. One of utter carnage, the stick slap of flesh on metal, the scraping of blades, blinding blasts of white and red lights, all painted in the many shades of blood as snowy white feathers fall around the victor, such was not the case for Lazarus. Angel of Punishment, marked by 4 jet black wings when the time to fight was called, these often misunderstood wings gave him respect from the other side enough to walk where he wanted in the shape of his choice. Demons left him alone, still catching that cold aura rolling up their spins if they knew him. Should he be asked, it would be a curious answer as to why he chose to consort with Demons for his kicks, why a Soldier of the Holy Order would slum it out with the whores of the pit, he could simply admit to a high level of relaxation in the company of those that weren’t completely terrified of him.
Demons were easy to hang around with in close company, they didn’t judge and already knew they couldn’t be “saved” so there was no reason for his tricks to mean anything. If he played with them it was all in good fun and they appreciated it! His was a thankless job, shepherding the lost lambs of mankind back to the corrals of their congregations. He sneered down into his little glass of Brandy at the trio of ice cubes floating there, reminding him too much of work. It followed him still even in this demon’s brothel because one of the little darlings was an ordained target. Mikoto hadn’t caught his eye by chance, Someone somewhere saw him slipping from his path and that someone told someone else until the case was flung into his hands. Whatever, he thought slamming back the last swallow of his liquor and rolled his eyes at the bartender when silently asked about a refill, returning it was a silent flick of the hand as he walked away for the room where he was due. Mikoto would be his for the next 3 hours to do with what he wanted, same as his last six visits since they had first met in the brothel six weeks ago.
He was polite to the lady that would announce him to Mikoto but he’d paid a little extra for her to withhold which of his patrons was next so as to surprise him. Screwing with the kids head was fun and all, no sex of course, that would be unprofessional on his part; he needed the boy’s trust after all if he was to tempt the host from the path to which he was chained, but it was so much more bearable a task if his target was at his peak of cuteness. Playing sneaky, Lazarus stayed to the shadows of the dimly lit door way where he could see Mikoto laid out so invitingly as if he’d already checkout for the day but his presence would go unnoted to the demon boy. He could knock and get the minimal jolt of fright he wanted or…he gracefully snatched a vase full of flowers and tossed it at the wall behind the head of the bed where it would crash to break in a loud sudden explosion of crystal, water, and tattered petals. The force of his entrance didn’t stop there, the literally danced into the room! A full waltz position spinning on the toes of his expensive Italian leather shoes, he took broad steps humming the tempo of a typical waltz number.
One, Two, Three-One, two, three-“Up, up, lazy bones! I wish to dance with my company today.”
He paused at the foot of the bed, fluidly crossing his ankles where he stood to show off long legs and brace his hands on the posts that squared the corners, “You will dance with me tonight won’t you Mikoto?” Lazarus may have phrased it like a question but the strength of his voice, aura, and chaotic demeanor maintained it's solidity as a open demand.
…Your tears are all that I’ll ever need
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Posted: Wed Jan 29, 2014 10:10 am
The Devil tips his hat to me…With age came tricks that only age could accomplish, such as the wisdom time only gave the elders that had learned to wait for their prey. The most effective torture was the slow kind that came up silently from behind, struck, and vanished before the victim even knew what had happened to them. Patience was a virtue for a reason. Take Mikoto’s hands Lazarus did but as the level of exhaustion in Mikoto was overly obvious, he switched his arm set to one of Tango. A rigid 90 degree angle in the elbows held high while the other supported Mikoto’s weight tight against him from around the middle. The closeness was something Mikoto was numb to and not the instrument Lazarus was using here, though it did provide a nice cover to his real weapon of choice in this instance. Kindness, support, a gentle firmness of a caring authority, these were things Mikoto wouldn’t understand or recognize out right but his shriveled and starved little heart would yearn for them like dry desert sand yearned for water…he’d steal this from the boy and crush him with it.
“Now, now, no excuses! It is your place in life to entertain as each patron demands, wounds of the hour before mean nothing or is it your intention to insult me with thoughts of others when you belong to me however briefly,” Lazarus smiled at him the whole time, going through the motions of the dance. He had marked Mikoto’s displeasure with his station on the first visit, it seemed to be the very reason behind his slip into the abyss. How he got there wasn’t as much important as it was that it amplified the numbing pressure creating a deeper, rarer pain when reminded of it and that he couldn’t put his tools down. A task never finished because he wasn’t allowed to die and quitting would just result in double the work, this was the principal of despair and the fate of damned souls like Mikoto’s. Lazarus needn’t lash out at the boy to bleed him to his last so long as that barbed tongue could sling its gentle poison.
“In fact I have given pet names some thought, kitten. You lack the energy for puppy, have never trembled in my hands to earn bunny. You’re not shy like a fawn, clumbsy like a bear cub, but you are cutest when you puff up and bare your tiny teeth at me!”
…Your tears are all that I’ll ever need
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