06-15-2018, 12:08 AM
Nosferatu knew that the horrific blast would not kill him. He was, after all, cursed with immortality. It was not all as glamorous and great as a mortal would make it out to be, in fact, it was awful. However, it was not all bad. Having been a human back before... Well, being a cat, the demon was human. Born and raised in Germany, Nos served in the Nazi army, against his will, mind you. Being a human now was nostalgic in its own way, but at least he did not have to lick his own body to stay clean. It all seemed so barbaric now. He shuttered at the thought. Somehow, certain parts of his mind were foggy about his time in the clans, but other parts were clear as day. At least he had thumbs now. God, he sure did miss those.
The young man weaved in and out of the bakery area, trying his best to avoid a sleep-deprived mother and her screaming toddler who kept wandering towards him. He liked kids, just not when they had snot all over their face and were screaming like a wounded animal. Try living in the wilderness as cat, then you can come crying to him. If any of the people in this place knew what he was, what he had done in his lifetime, and what he was capable of, they would be gone in a flash. Too bad he did not care enough about keeping up demonic appearances. He suddenly stopped, a wave of... Something came over him. An uneasiness grew heavy in his chest. Another of his kind was here - A demon. Nos could sense something different about this demon, and almost familiarity with it. Despite that, just because he was familiar with a demon did not mean he was on good terms with them.
Grabbing a dustpan as a shield and a baguette as a sword, he started towards the source. He peeked and poked downs isle after isle, until he spotted Ramsay. Quickly drawing back, he squared his shoulders and slithered around the corner. He looked like a god damn tweaker at this point, and the wide-eyed stares he got by passers was not helping it. Green eyes stared down the other, gradually narrowing. He raked his mind for the information he sought, dustpan and baguette still in hand. The name began with a D - Danny? Daniel? No, Daniel was his old human name. Maybe he would start using it again? Now he was getting sidetracked. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, hoping Ramsay did not catch him before he could finish his soul search.
Domeric. He felt his stomach churn. Unfortunately, the memory of him being brutally tortured by the fellow demon was one he remember rather clearly. Should he approach or run? Nosferatu was not a runner, but there was a first time for everything. He whispered to himself, "That bastard stole my balls." Nos had... Regenerated them, but you just don't do that to a man. His time was ticking, he had been staring too long. He was going to run. Wait- No, he changed his mind. Slowly slinking forward, ready to fight with his mighty baguette, only stopping a few feet away. "What are you doin' here? Gonna castrat those boxes too?"
The young man weaved in and out of the bakery area, trying his best to avoid a sleep-deprived mother and her screaming toddler who kept wandering towards him. He liked kids, just not when they had snot all over their face and were screaming like a wounded animal. Try living in the wilderness as cat, then you can come crying to him. If any of the people in this place knew what he was, what he had done in his lifetime, and what he was capable of, they would be gone in a flash. Too bad he did not care enough about keeping up demonic appearances. He suddenly stopped, a wave of... Something came over him. An uneasiness grew heavy in his chest. Another of his kind was here - A demon. Nos could sense something different about this demon, and almost familiarity with it. Despite that, just because he was familiar with a demon did not mean he was on good terms with them.
Grabbing a dustpan as a shield and a baguette as a sword, he started towards the source. He peeked and poked downs isle after isle, until he spotted Ramsay. Quickly drawing back, he squared his shoulders and slithered around the corner. He looked like a god damn tweaker at this point, and the wide-eyed stares he got by passers was not helping it. Green eyes stared down the other, gradually narrowing. He raked his mind for the information he sought, dustpan and baguette still in hand. The name began with a D - Danny? Daniel? No, Daniel was his old human name. Maybe he would start using it again? Now he was getting sidetracked. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, hoping Ramsay did not catch him before he could finish his soul search.
Domeric. He felt his stomach churn. Unfortunately, the memory of him being brutally tortured by the fellow demon was one he remember rather clearly. Should he approach or run? Nosferatu was not a runner, but there was a first time for everything. He whispered to himself, "That bastard stole my balls." Nos had... Regenerated them, but you just don't do that to a man. His time was ticking, he had been staring too long. He was going to run. Wait- No, he changed his mind. Slowly slinking forward, ready to fight with his mighty baguette, only stopping a few feet away. "What are you doin' here? Gonna castrat those boxes too?"