11-03-2018, 10:10 PM
[align=center][div style="width: 600px; padding: 10px; height: auto; overflow: auto;"][div style="width: 550px; padding: 0px; line-height: 13px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9pt;"]In Junji's experience, caring only led to trouble. He cared to pad along the beach neighboring the railroad, eyes settled upon the gate each morning and evening and free hours between, searching for someone new. He had once been caring to a fault. Extended his help out to strangers he knew nothing about, and at times, he caught himself in the habit. It was hard to break. As soothsayer, his job was to care, but past traumas told him resist. Only bad things came from helping. Only pain and weariness. Only ungratefulness and harsh words.
No one in this world cared about good intentions, not really. Mortals cared only for themselves, and once they got what they needed, they left without a 'thank you' or even 'goodbye.' There were some that were kind enough to extend those little words to him, but the angel found such things becoming less and less frequent. Junji didn't care anymore, not really, not as much as he should. A certain coldness crept into him and shone in his eyes when looking over a patient, brow furrowed, dulling ocean eyes narrowed and lips tugging into a frown.
At times, Junji wished he could go back to the way he used to be. Living beneath a blanket of innocence, naivety, unrelenting kindness. He missed himself. He missed when he could feel for those in need, but as time went on, he grew sicker and sicker; both with organs black from corruption, and a mindset tired of how the world worked. Yet he needed only to put up a front. He was round and plump with children now, he couldn't fall into this pit of darkness. He couldn't give in. Not yet. For the sake of the lives within him, the angel losing his grace would push on. And pushing on meant meeting this hound at the gate.
His eyes settled first on Desperado. The smell of cigarettes and liquor practically wafted off of him, and though it had been quite some time since the other had been in the Typhoon, his scent was quite distinct. Junji was almost surprised by the fact he recognized it. Months had passed since he had seen Des on the island, and frankly, the angel thought him to have died. Seemed that wasn't the case. His pale gaze turned next to Peppino; one of his new sages, standing before the hound. He only caught the tail end of what the young pup had said, something about cravings and relief. The faintest of smiles played at the pretty feline's lips as he came nearer, moving to curl a wing around his apprentice—a habit from his time with Silus, something he couldn't quite resist.
"Desperado," Cooed the angel, taking another moment to look him over. "It's been a while. Are you here to stay?" He slowly seated himself in the sand. Jun couldn't help but wrinkle his nose ever so slightly at the smoke puffing out from the lit cigarette, resisting the urge to ask the man to put it out. He knew it was a strong vice; something not exactly easy to stop doing, and he didn't want to be rude or anything of the like. He could deal with it for now. A small price to pay to greet someone who had once made a home here. "How have you been faring?"
No one in this world cared about good intentions, not really. Mortals cared only for themselves, and once they got what they needed, they left without a 'thank you' or even 'goodbye.' There were some that were kind enough to extend those little words to him, but the angel found such things becoming less and less frequent. Junji didn't care anymore, not really, not as much as he should. A certain coldness crept into him and shone in his eyes when looking over a patient, brow furrowed, dulling ocean eyes narrowed and lips tugging into a frown.
At times, Junji wished he could go back to the way he used to be. Living beneath a blanket of innocence, naivety, unrelenting kindness. He missed himself. He missed when he could feel for those in need, but as time went on, he grew sicker and sicker; both with organs black from corruption, and a mindset tired of how the world worked. Yet he needed only to put up a front. He was round and plump with children now, he couldn't fall into this pit of darkness. He couldn't give in. Not yet. For the sake of the lives within him, the angel losing his grace would push on. And pushing on meant meeting this hound at the gate.
His eyes settled first on Desperado. The smell of cigarettes and liquor practically wafted off of him, and though it had been quite some time since the other had been in the Typhoon, his scent was quite distinct. Junji was almost surprised by the fact he recognized it. Months had passed since he had seen Des on the island, and frankly, the angel thought him to have died. Seemed that wasn't the case. His pale gaze turned next to Peppino; one of his new sages, standing before the hound. He only caught the tail end of what the young pup had said, something about cravings and relief. The faintest of smiles played at the pretty feline's lips as he came nearer, moving to curl a wing around his apprentice—a habit from his time with Silus, something he couldn't quite resist.
"Desperado," Cooed the angel, taking another moment to look him over. "It's been a while. Are you here to stay?" He slowly seated himself in the sand. Jun couldn't help but wrinkle his nose ever so slightly at the smoke puffing out from the lit cigarette, resisting the urge to ask the man to put it out. He knew it was a strong vice; something not exactly easy to stop doing, and he didn't want to be rude or anything of the like. He could deal with it for now. A small price to pay to greet someone who had once made a home here. "How have you been faring?"
[align=center][div style="font-size:17pt;line-height:1.1;color:white;font-family:impact"][i]hello my old heart