Demons In Your Head

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Saren, Nov 5, 2013.

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  1. "I wish you would just keep quiet when I'm doing business with others." Shea's hand twitched as he spoke to seemingly himself. However, he was addressing the demon in his head.

    That's no fun, human. I like to play with your kind. So easily scared.

    "If you left us alone for just two minutes, I could get food so I can, I don't know, stay alive? If I die, you die."

    Hmph, was all that came from the demon in his head. Shea sighed, fixing the top hat on his head. He was traveling through a large city, where thankfully, the majority of the population ignored him and his crazy ramblings. It was harsh trade-backs with Aehs, the archdemon that possessed half of his body, but Shea couldn't really stop him from talking. In fact, the more Shea ignored him, the more Aehs chattered about how weak humans were.

    For once, he was staying quiet as Shea weaved through the crowd, feigning a limp with the cane at his side. He often faked a crippled limb to justify him drinking alcohol or finding something to soothe his fabricated pain, which dulled Aehs's thoughts and opinions about... everything.

    Aehs was completely aware of Shea's attempts to get rid of him, as well as truly rid the demon from his body. They'd been battling for control of Shea's soul ever since Aehs had first showed up almost a year ago. They'd come to a tentative agreement: once a week, Aehs could roam for a day, killing and sating his lust for blood and power. In exchange, he wouldn't try to completely take over Shea.

    Sometimes it worked, sometime it didn't.

    In that moment, Shea was only trying to get away from the crowds so he could have some sort of peace. He limped his way through the people, doing his best to avoid physical contact with anyone. If provoked by deigning to brush a human, Aehs would be more likely to attempt to show himself and kill someone.

    Next time, human, try to find a better location. These humans are stupid and incompetent.

    "You think every human is stupid," Shea muttered, lowering his head to keep his eyes away from the crowd.
  2. The usually bustling Black Barrel is quieter this afternoon. The hybrid of an inn and a well-stocked bar, along with the eye candy of beautiful staff made this establishment one of the most popular destinations in the city, though the place really doesn't start coming to life until the later hours of the evening. The two-storey building has the main floor dedicated to the rowdy night life, while upstairs serves those requiring a bed for whatever reason. There are rumours that, given the right connections or influences, a basement level also exists, but details beyond that are hazy at best. One thing's for sure: one doesn't pay money to sleep here for its peace and quiet. It is from one of the balconies of the inn's upper rooms that a dark-haired femme leans forward. Elbows resting against the thin railing, the female rests her chin atop clasped hands whilst her dark gaze sweeps the streets below. It's the perfect vantage point to simply observe, especially as the inn lies on one of the main roads that run through this city.

    Adelle has spent many a day in this past week like this, watching regulars and foreigners alike walk by. However, her goals are not simply people-watching. She's looking for something in particular, yet something she cannot altogether describe. It is this indescribable feeling that draws her attention to the left as an unfamiliar male limps into view; apparently a lame one, seeing the cane. Leaning forward just a tad, her attention hones in on the male, her entire world molding and shifting so that he is the only one in the focus of her vision.

    His lips move. Yet he speaks to no one. He appears discontent. He seems to dislike people...or at least strangers. Head bowed down...a shifty fellow. Is he depressed? Or crazy? The lone female allows a shadow of a smile to flicker across her lips. Yes, if she absolutely had to describe the type of people she ends up being attracted to, crazy would be a very suitable adjective.

    Pushing herself to a full stand, the mage absentmindedly slides her hands down the fabric of her dress to smooth the forest-green fabric. Why girls insist on wearing dresses is beyond her, but their lack of common sense requires her to do the same to fit with the social norms. It's ridiculous, really. Even as she reflects upon her distaste for fashion trends, the female's gaze remains fixed upon Shea. Would he turn into the inn? Or would he continue past it? She really hopes the former because the latter would require her to stalk him. And that's definitely creepy. Did she mention she dislikes being creepy?
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