© LEXASPERATED

It was most definitely a timely event. Everyone, gathered in a single place, to introduce themselves and their interests? It was almost too auspicious. Marco had given himself a week of silence and tranquility, mainly to settle in and carve his goals in stone, and at the end of said week, the leader hosts an occasion such as this. If that wasn’t enough, the goings-on would be the superb opportunity to catch glimpse of his brother, whom his clairvoyance would not shut up about ever since touching base on that beach. Each factor fell upon each other in such a seamless manner, it was almost as if another figure, another being of a higher power had some sort of hand in this. Unlikely, yes, but possible.

Making the scene, it appeared that he was rather late to the occasion. Luckily for him, it also appeared that the one the angel searched for had yet to show up, giving him all the more time in the world to prepare. There was so many questions to ask, so many inquiries to be made, so many scores to settle. Of course, he too cared for the band of misfits he’d come across known as the Typhoon. Marco had yet to interact with any of them beyond simple “hello”s, though he had already formed a breed of bond with the island tribe. Possibly, it was that specific feeling of family he had not experienced for centuries? There were no cliques in all the realms stronger than those in heaven, hence him feeling rather forsaken up there, and ultimately, influencing his decision to presume the role of a holy angel. Presently, he was a part of a clique, a new sensation, one he’d gotten attached to.

He cared not for the s’mores. It was not required for him to eat or drink, although he took great pleasure in doing such things. But s’mores? There was nothing more unholy in the world of culinary fascinations than the calamitous blend of stale wafer, gooey chocolate, and sticky marshmallow. He’d had a few during the length of his service, each time feeling like the snack would clog his system and kill him after consuming the viscous snack, despite him lacking the ability to do embrace death. Sorry to the chef, but those were a no-go.

All of these faces. They were strange. Some bore resemblances to demonic sources, some with ties to other holy figures altogether. It cast a feeling of fear over him. He wanted to go home. Marco wished to return to his abode. He was going in too deep, way over his head. He was not cut out for this lifestyle. He should return to heaven and be with the missus and his boy.

No. That was not at all going to happen, he’d avow, you did not search for five decades just to turn tail and run, especially when he’s just in your grasp. Inhaling an insufflation of warm, salty air, sparks from the flames playfully whirring around his frame, the lynx drew near.  "Greetings," he called, introducing the new faces to his smooth tone before continuing, ”my name is Marco Dragomir, and I am an angel - please do not let that fact, or the religion that I represent, irk you.” From his travels, he found that Christianity was not one of the most praised religions among animals - humans were a different story. Marco had found himself a great deal of name-calling over the years, which had bothered him none before. Now, though, if this group had something against him right from the get-go, he’d be in a lot of discomfort. ”I can speak a variety of languages,” he’d steadily continue, ”I can fluently speak Romanian, which is my native tongue, English, Hebrew, and I have dabbled in many other dialects at one point or another. I am here because I am on the search for someone, my brother, to be exact. My senses have reassured me many times that I am not mistaken when I say that he’s here. I have no idea of his appearance, or his name, for he may have changed it for what I understand. All I do know is that he is was not allowed past the pearly gates, so he’s likely here as a devil or ghost.”

”I’m fond of literature, fine food, art, and storytelling. I have a distaste for the malicious... and bad music.”

”That’s all from me. I hope my stay here does not interfere with your safety in any way”.

//wHAT’S UP, KIDS? my name’s toboggan, veteran roleplayer, but i have went by many names over the years, for i have been roleplaying since 2014 (and got banned like thrice). those names include gnome child, fire !, incognitoburrito (or bur), bolide, and ultimately toboggan. i’m a canuck, hailing from the peninsula of nova scotia, and i’m PROUD of it. my family mostly consists of scottish/irish/english/welsh heritage, but i’m also 20% slovenian, and i wear my slavic heritage with passion. i’m a sophomore in high school, love design, and my future careers could consist of either advertising, urban planning, visual effects, and my favourite, sound design. i just love music - and i’m aware that my taste in music may be unique compared to the rest: my favourites are the glorious sons, an amazing band fronted by a masterful lyricist and backed by a smooth (or sometimes rough) sound, the sheepdogs, a group dedicated to recreating the classic blues/roots rock sound, and arkells, who release their new album TOMORROW AND I’M HYPED!! as for games, i love overwatch, death road to canada, and world of warcraft. i can’t wait to start skiing again, and most importantly, start playing with y’all )