Sister Karin

A presence would appear to the side of Armant as he crouched over grieving. It would be hard to tell if this entity simply appeared, walked up, or had been there for a little while. Contrasting the aura and demeanor of the repenting male, the newcomer into the scene wore a jovial look upon his face. There was something about him that seemed off to indicate that he may not be human though there was no solid evidence. He would be normal enough according to his clothing as he wore a pair of designer black jeans with a brown belt and leather shoes of matching brand, black undershirt with a white tribal print on the front covered by black leather jacket with brown fur about the collar. Teenaged in appearance, his hair was short and black, his visage foxish as he stands with his hands in the pockets of his jacket. Making his presence known, he gives a relaxing sigh to the heavens and shifts his gaze up and to the side as he speaks, “nice night out for a stroll through a grave yard, don’t you think?” His humor was a bit displaced in this setting, though it seemed as if he did not care about his effect on others; she spoke as if almost honestly.

217

A grin forms over the mouth of the young man as he observes the reaction from Armant; he seemed thoroughly amused. “Hmmm….” He leans to the side as if trying to look at the man that held his back to him. After he turns around, the newcomer leans back into a normal stance and answers the first question rhetorically, “why shouldn’t I?” Moving on to more important things, he comments, “you’re not very perceptive are you?” Holding both hands out, palm up, he shrugs, “I guess it can’t be helped for a human.” His stance returns to normal as he takes a step towards the tombstone that Armant had been at as his head tilts to the side as if inspecting it murmuring some repetition of the previously mentioned bad movement. Without turning to face Armant, he speaks. “I would have preferred you not wipe your eyes…” His voice is teasing a bit as he continues, “tormented and sad expressions are so much better than the normal everyday ones, don’t you think?”

172
Ooc: Which gaps are you talking about?

“Eh?...” the voice comes jovially enough as the young man seemed to be enjoying this back and forth. “Ah, that’s not important,” he assure Armant as he turns his back and takes a few steps towards the tombstone a few rows down. His actions are hidden, but there is a ‘zip’ sound and afterward, the sound of liquid striking the ground can be heard as he relieves himself there in the open. “What do you get for being perceptive? So amusing. You know, I’ve often thought if a person lost a reason to live, they should become a super hero.” He shakes twice and looks over his shoulder to Armant, continuing, “you know, like in the mangas or movies.” He turns back around with his head tilted down as he zips back up and chuckles, “but in real life, don’t you think that would be funny. It would be a beautiful struggle to the end, instead of something as boring as just dying.” Turning back towards Armant, he tilts his head and inquires, “crying would get you killed hmmm?... So you’re the lying type then?” He asks as in a matter of fact tone as if seriously trying to understand.

200

As the replies come in, the male’s attention is grabbed by a rectangular tombstone to his side, onto which he jumped lightly. He balances on the tombstone, looking up back to Armant as he speaks, before looking back down for his balance. After his words, the man counters, “crying is a very important emotional realize. All the pain and suffering builds up and the tears are the climatic orgasm. You feel better after you do it, don’t you? It’s wonderful to watch. Much better than porn.” He hops to another tombstone and his hands come out to both sides as he holds his balance. He continues, “I never really thought of heroes as being strong. Always thought heroes were supposed to have strong hearts. That’s something a drunk could have?” He hops off of the tombstone and walks to Armant’s side, “is your heart weak?”

145

The young man seems happily pleased when Armant admits that he did feel a bit better. It also seemed to confirm to him that he had been crying. With the question, he emits a soft “hmmm” not really answering that question. The young man shifts about a little bit seemingly unable to stand in once place for too long. When the final question is asked, the young man turns to him with all smiles and congratulations, “exactly! Who am I to ask this! More importantly, who am I? Why am I here? Do you believe in coincidences? Better yet, do you believe in spirits?”

104

“You will decide your own fate? I wonder if you really can,” the man says looking over Armant. He continues, “I ask because I’m interested… not in you, no not really, but I am interested in all humans. I love them! Their hope, their weakness, their ideals, ignorance and emotions; it’s the best thing. I guess you could just say that I’m curious, though.” As he speaks, his arms wrap about his body, clinging to his shoulders as he twists slightly as if he were imagining hugging the entire human race at once. Coming out of the self hug, the man turns his side to Armant and then looks over to him and gets back to the point, “you look like you have a house, a job… a routine. You humans are lead around by a government that constantly lies to you and follow whatever they say to do. If you’re unable to decide your own life, how silly do you have to be to think that you can decide your own fate?” The man laughs lightly amused by this, “I mean… it’s beautifully funny! You humans can never truly be free! You have given your fate to other humans.” His tone was teasing as he finishes his statements.

209

The young man seems acknowledge Armant’s words without confirming them. He simply emits a “hmmm” from his throat as Armant spoke. With the direction question, the young man shifts to the side and portrays a stance with his gaze upwards, admitting, “oh no, I’m nothing of the sort. A vigilante implies someone who takes the law into their own hands. I, on the other hand, believe in following one’s own laws.” Turning in the opposing direction, he takes a few paces and admits, “though people like me have little need for laws, homes, houses and the such.” As if part of his stroll, the young man appears behind Armant, back to back, as he comments, “but what is human? What is not human? Is not human called inhuman? What type of person would an inhuman person… or thing be?” He would giggle and move back if Armant were to move away from him, if not, he would keep his back to his as he asks, “Hmmm… would you like me to tell you your fate? To help you run from it?”

181

“Humans are the cutest thing…” The pressure would be released from the body pressing against Armant’s back as the male figure appears before him at a distance in the dim evening night light. Standing casually, the male would fold his arms at this chest and comment, “no human could do as I? How would I know such things as your fate? Perhaps I am your god? You’ve come to this place of death to mourn and are blessed by my appearance.” He unfolds his tucked arms and stretches them both outwards with open arms as large silver wings spread out from his back casting feathers into the sky which softly cascade down as he continues, “will you pray to me?” With a soft giggle, he folds his arms back and the feathers retreat back into his back as if not having been there. The feathers in the air still continue to lightly float to the ground where they evaporate into spirit particles. “You said you will decide your fate… so you will have to run from the one that’s been destined for you already…” he leads on, “or did you think you could simply change it by saying that you would?”

201

Spoiler:

There is silence as Armant comes to one knee and gives himself to this stranger. After that moment, breaking the silence, there is a loud and boisterous laughter as the young man holds nothing back, seemingly unable to keep his amusement to himself. One hand comes to his head as the other holds his stomach as he has a hearty laugh at Armant’s expense. The attempts to come down, with sporadic out bursts and chuckles here and there before he wipes his eye and emits a “wooo… talking to you really was worth it. You’re a fun person.” He gives a waving motion as he speaks, “get up, get up. I don’t need people praising me and giving themselves to me… that’s too much like having responsibility. What you thought I was just going to fart and you would get magical powers?” He looks at Armant as if saying ‘get real.’ He continues, “…but since you amuse me, I think we can be good friends. If you want power, I can help you.” Crossing his arms, he rubs his chin and murmurs, “hmmm… where can we find you a good Onugi… that seems like your speed… ah! I got it. It’s dark outside, let’s go to the forest! By the way, my name is Izuya.”

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Izuya watches the fist lower with a smile and then turns his attention back to the face as he seemed to take pleasure in watching Armant’s expressions. When the question comes, Izuya waves his hand dismissively and comments “don’t worry about small details like that. First things first, we’ll have to get you into the forests. There’s much more fun to be had there.” He takes a step closer to Armant bringing his body in very close proximity as he speaks, “this scene is kind of played out for now, don’t you think?” As he spoke a ring of light surrounded them and engulfed them both into a glowing tower of luminance. He keeps his gaze into Armant’s eyes, not at all uncomfortable with the closeness allowing the light to bind them both in place as it precedes in teleporting their bodies from that location to the destination that Armant had in mind.

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Exit RP: I will create a new thread in the forest after you response, you get my wordcount here.