you were always gold to me / injuries

[Luca]

Luca was one of them, one of the beasts that hunted angels for a mere taste of their presence. He had always struggled with bad self control and angelic beings, with their sweet blood and gentle spirits, were a temptation impossible for him to resist. Envy wasn't his sin, not his main one at least, but he definitely envied them for their pure souls and their pretty wings. They were everything that he had aspired to be as a child, and everything that he wasn't. But he admired them, despite all of his jealously. He had always viewed them as beings higher and holier than him, and that definitely didn't change after his transformation into a demon. He was filthy now; the black tar of corruption dripping from his tongue and coating everything he touched. Angels made him feel clean, allowed him to hide the darkness that bubbled up from between the cracks in his facade.

He had been using the souls of the holy to mimic their presence for about a century now, but he was running low on supplies. His little stunt with the fire had definitely made it harder on him, and he knew that he'd have to collect more souls if he wanted to reapply the glamour. He would be lying if he said that Junji hadn't crossed his mind. When he had first woken up and realised that his body had changed, the gentle sage was the first person that crossed his mind. He was so sweet, so innocent, and the urge to destroy him had struck Luca as quickly and intensely as a bolt of lightning. He had always been more aggressive in his natural form, and probably would have acted on the violent ideas if it weren't for the more rational part of his brain remembering a pleasant conversation on the beach.

Luca didn't like hurting the ones that were nice to him. They were so few and far between that it'd be stupid of him to thin their numbers further. He had thought about it for a while, and decided that his more predatory side could rest for a little longer. If he were ever to attempt to take Junji's angelic presence, he would do it in a much more gentle way. Sometimes a kiss was more effective than an attack. Besides, maybe being in this body wasn't such a bad deal. After all, majority of the clan already knew what he was. There was no point in hiding it for now.

He was deep in thought as he traversed the territory of the typhoon, his recent transformation still weighing on his mind. At least the return to his original body seemed to help him get a grasp on more of his powers. His heightened senses were slowly returning to him as his mind adjusted, but he was struggling to keep a hold on all of them after not having them for so long. He used to be able to turn his enhanced sense of taste off permanently, but at the moment the somewhat tart taste of his own mouth was making him nauseous. There was something bothering him, though. Beneath the crunch of the sand beneath his paws and the constant ambience of jungle life, he was sure that he could hear something odd. Muffled thumping noises and the sound of whispering. He hated it when people whispered things just out the range of his hearing; there was something so frustrating about knowing that you're just on the verge of being able to understand them.

The hellhound frowned and looked in the direction that the noises were coming from, his curiosity getting the better of him. If there was something scandalous going on, he knew he had to get in on that while he could. He turned and headed towards the noise, focusing on filtering the noises and scents of the jungle for an easier journey. He had only made it a few steps before the scent of blood found him, planting a seed of worry in his gut and indicating that it probably wasn't a fun secret that he was about to stumble across. The new scent made it relatively easy for him to find his way through the foliage, despite how easily he often got lost in the jungle. It was only a matter of minutes before he finally came across the beaten and bloody Junji. As soon as the hound recognized his clanmate, a rare and sudden urgency overcame him, and he rushed to the feline's side. His pretty face was swollen and bruised, and Luca almost reached out a paw to caress it before pulling back. "J-Junji!" he exclaimed in a whisper, unsure of how to help with his sub-par healing skills and lack of supplies.

Luca hated yelling, he really did, but this situation was one of the rare ones that called for it. "Medic!" He called, hoping that someone would hear him before he had to drag the kind angel from the jungle. For now the demon would merely reach forwards and rest a paw on the broken body before him and attempt to transfer some of Junji's wounds to himself. It was the most he could do with the slippery grip he currently had on his powers, although it was unlikely that he'd manage to take anything major. He could feel a subtle anger starting to bloom in his heart now that the initial shock was starting to fade. He was many things by nature; violent, risque, affectionate, but among those many labels, one of the most prominent was possessive. Someone had hurt what he had silently claimed as his own, and he was determined to find out who.