"I'm an exorcist by trade. I need to seek out signs of supernatural corruption constantly per my job description, but this doesn't look like the work of a Nightmare. I used to be a butcher, so I can recognize that these are knife cuts here... and here... but beyond that I got nothing. I don't have the authority to launch investigations into humanoids, so if it turns out to be a possessed person I'd like you to call me."
"Mn. I can assure you that I am more than well equipped to handle supernatural threats." He said and placed the picture into his notebook, noting down something in it before closing it.
"Probably." He shrugs. "Sorry I couldn't be more help. I have my own stuff to take care of, and I'm worried about the local butcher, Misha, I think. I know how nasty the job is, and she's been struggling mentally." He lights a cigarette with a match and takes a drag.
"Misha? A butcher hm?" He nods and rolls his shoulders. He pulls out a pocket watch "You did say that the cuts were made by someone with a knife and from your own history as a butcher, it would be best to consider her a suspect considering her mental state if you say it is as bad as it is." He tips his hat.
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"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
His nose twitches, and his gleaming, tired red eyes land on her. In an instant, the hammers are placed onto the string of his apron. "Hey. What's up?"
"Hi!" The shadow child responds, a wide smile on her face. "I was just curious about what you're doing." She adds.
He shrugs. "I'm just making sure I can keep protecting people properly. I'm an exorcist, sort of. I deal with a lot of Nightmare monsters. It's a lot easier than dealing with people. They're the ones to really be afraid of. What do you think?"
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Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
Misha is in her shop, nervously skinning the old woman she killed earlier. She is shaking like a leaf, clutching a cross she made of wood in her hand as she works.
Eithan politely knocks on the door outside of the butcher shop, though he doesn’t come inside. He’s holding what appears to be apology gift basket, an apologetic look on his face.
She peeks out and walks over, opening the door "What is wrong?" She asks, tilting her head.
He hands them the basket, bowing deeply out of respect “I apologize for the first impression I provided, and the fear I instilled into you when it happened, can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”
"I didn't feel fear.. well, a little, but it's nothing bad, it's fine." She tilts her head.
He sighs, standing back all the way up and smiling at them, “Wonderful, may I come inside, I would love to see your shop.”
Her eyes dart towards the back before her lips twitch, she slaps a hand over her mouth before anything happens. "You can but I'm afraid the back is messy at the moment."
He looks at them, concerned for a moment before nodding, his gaze bringing a calming presence to them as he makes his way inside, taking off his helmet, and putting it under his arm, smelling the blood in the air, but not commenting on it.
She shows him everything in the front. Her plants, her working display case for the cuts, everything
He looks at the plants lovingly, whispering some words to them and checking their health, he seems to be a real fan of them.
"Do you like them? I like plants." She explains
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"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
"Probably." He shrugs. "Sorry I couldn't be more help. I have my own stuff to take care of, and I'm worried about the local butcher, Misha, I think. I know how nasty the job is, and she's been struggling mentally." He lights a cigarette with a match and takes a drag.
"Misha? A butcher hm?" He nods and rolls his shoulders. He pulls out a pocket watch "You did say that the cuts were made by someone with a knife and from your own history as a butcher, it would be best to consider her a suspect considering her mental state if you say it is as bad as it is." He tips his hat.
"If you're sure about it, I'd say go for it. She's kind of agoraphobic, I think, so it seems a bit out of character to kill someone in the woods so far from the shop, but killers can be tricky, can't they?" He sighs. "I hope everything turns out alright. Well, as alright as they can be after... that."
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Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
They are silent for a while, and then, very faint, barely-audible sobbing can be heard from it, tears of shadowy ichor dripping from nonexistent eyes. After about a minute, it manages to utter one word. "...Amicus..."
She seems especially curious, producing the book about monster hunting she brought with her. "Which one is that? It sounds awesome."
She wipes the tears away from where they begin the only way a mother can, lovingly with a smile, “Amicus? It’s nice ta meet ya, Amicus. I love ya with all the love I’ve got fer all o’ my other children.” She says, patting their head.
“It’s the one that other hunters describe as a deadly pickle, it’s actually a more genetically advanced and combat experienced version of the regular Deviljo.” He shows them in the book.
*Fun fact: 'Amicus' is Latin for 'friend'. It chose that name because the one thing it wants more than anything is to be seen as a friend!*
It doesn't respond, just staying there in her arms, continuing to cry for the very first time.
"I see... I can kinda get why they call it that, based on the image. Is it a separate subspecies, or do they start as normal Deviljo?" She asks, genuinely interested.
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Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
They are silent for a while, and then, very faint, barely-audible sobbing can be heard from it, tears of shadowy ichor dripping from nonexistent eyes. After about a minute, it manages to utter one word. "...Amicus..."
She seems especially curious, producing the book about monster hunting she brought with her. "Which one is that? It sounds awesome."
She wipes the tears away from where they begin the only way a mother can, lovingly with a smile, “Amicus? It’s nice ta meet ya, Amicus. I love ya with all the love I’ve got fer all o’ my other children.” She says, patting their head.
“It’s the one that other hunters describe as a deadly pickle, it’s actually a more genetically advanced and combat experienced version of the regular Deviljo.” He shows them in the book.
*Fun fact: 'Amicus' is Latin for 'friend'. It chose that name because the one thing it wants more than anything is to be seen as a friend!*
It doesn't respond, just staying there in her arms, continuing to cry for the very first time.
"I see... I can kinda get why they call it that, based on the image. Is it a separate subspecies, or do they start as normal Deviljo?" She asks, genuinely interested.
*Thats so heart warming, I hope that don’t die.*
She continues to comfort and hold them, happy to have this moment with another one of her kids, smiling brightly.
“They actually begin as normal Deviljo. You know about how different elements have sacks in the bodies of monsters dedicated to them? A Savage Deviljo’s dragon sack is broken, and constantly produces Dragon energy, increasing strength and breath power.” He’s happy to teach what he knows.
He doesn’t notice, with all of his hair covering his face. Eventually he finishes the song, leaning back and putting away his bango.
He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small ring box, delicately opening it to reveal a ring made from spring flowers, “Will you marry me?”
He doesn’t flinch, simply letting them look along with him “It was a gift, and I cherish it every day.”
"beautiful playing, Wander." she says, clapping quietly.
"Y-yes, I will!" she says, the tears pouring down her face. "It's beautiful.. it's perfect.."
"What is it you do with it?.. No, don't answer that.." she continues to peer through his eyes, the reflection showing his point of view of all the things he's done with the sword, a time lapse of sorts.
He chuckles, rubbing the back of his head “I’m happy you think so, it’s one of my only talents.”
He takes the ring and slips it onto their finger, the ring seemingly magic as it adjusts to her current size, “It was made for you.” He says with a smile they said yes.
It shows him doing what he can to protect those he sees needing his help, helping where he can, healing others and slaying those who seek to harm the innocent, but it also shows him massacring those who stood in the way of his goals, in those pictures his hair is black and his soothing presence gone.
"Misha? A butcher hm?" He nods and rolls his shoulders. He pulls out a pocket watch "You did say that the cuts were made by someone with a knife and from your own history as a butcher, it would be best to consider her a suspect considering her mental state if you say it is as bad as it is." He tips his hat.
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
He shrugs. "I'm just making sure I can keep protecting people properly. I'm an exorcist, sort of. I deal with a lot of Nightmare monsters. It's a lot easier than dealing with people. They're the ones to really be afraid of. What do you think?"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"Do you like them? I like plants." She explains
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
"If you're sure about it, I'd say go for it. She's kind of agoraphobic, I think, so it seems a bit out of character to kill someone in the woods so far from the shop, but killers can be tricky, can't they?" He sighs. "I hope everything turns out alright. Well, as alright as they can be after... that."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*Cut for Wendi.*
“Plants are… amazing things, the one passion I could afford in my first life, keeping a single tulip alive.” He says with a smile.
*Cut for Salem.*
He doesn’t notice, with all of his hair covering his face. Eventually he finishes the song, leaning back and putting away his bango.
He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small ring box, delicately opening it to reveal a ring made from spring flowers, “Will you marry me?”
He doesn’t flinch, simply letting them look along with him “It was a gift, and I cherish it every day.”
*Fun fact: 'Amicus' is Latin for 'friend'. It chose that name because the one thing it wants more than anything is to be seen as a friend!*
It doesn't respond, just staying there in her arms, continuing to cry for the very first time.
"I see... I can kinda get why they call it that, based on the image. Is it a separate subspecies, or do they start as normal Deviljo?" She asks, genuinely interested.
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
"I never thought about it that way.." she said, tilting her head.
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
*I am. Awake*
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
*Thats so heart warming, I hope that don’t die.*
She continues to comfort and hold them, happy to have this moment with another one of her kids, smiling brightly.
“They actually begin as normal Deviljo. You know about how different elements have sacks in the bodies of monsters dedicated to them? A Savage Deviljo’s dragon sack is broken, and constantly produces Dragon energy, increasing strength and breath power.” He’s happy to teach what he knows.
He chuckles, rubbing the back of his head “I’m happy you think so, it’s one of my only talents.”
He takes the ring and slips it onto their finger, the ring seemingly magic as it adjusts to her current size, “It was made for you.” He says with a smile they said yes.
It shows him doing what he can to protect those he sees needing his help, helping where he can, healing others and slaying those who seek to harm the innocent, but it also shows him massacring those who stood in the way of his goals, in those pictures his hair is black and his soothing presence gone.
“Well, I’m happy I could bring it to your mind to think that way.” He pulls back from the plant, “And thank you.”
*Hows everyone doin?*
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
*Cut for Salem.*
He looks down to the empty glass before looking back at them “You don’t have to, but maybe just a bit.”
He wraps his arms around her, picking her up and spinning her around, smiling brightly and giving her a passionate kiss.
He doesn’t seem too bothered by their intrusion, sighing as he puts his blade away, “I’ve been, living a life I wish was simpler.”
*Bro! Theren! How are you on! I’m a little dead inside.*
*Personal computer. Sorry to hear that btw*
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
*No worries man, happens all the time. I would rp, but I think I’ve got to go soon.*