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Yes, you.
Your face?
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Fuck being polite.
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-Nero Angelo

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The World of Ōmoi Ame RPG
Please... We do not like stalkers. So I will ask you politely to please register before going all mad creeper status on my forum. Pleasure doing business with you.

-Ivory

You.
Yes, you.
Your face?
I like that shit.
So why don't you join?
We are in need of members, and your epic self could really be appreciated in our community!
So fucking join, you lurkers.
Fuck being polite.
Thanks.

-Nero Angelo
The World of Ōmoi Ame RPG
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Post by Nero Angelo Tue Mar 12, 2013 4:25 pm



| NERO ANGELO |
||Hackin N' Slashin|| [ CLOSED TOPIC ] Xbcf_zps8847891e

HACKIN N' SLASHIN.


| Day One |

The thin sheet of glimmering moisture scintillated in the dim lights above, droplets of perspired salt being torn gruesomely out of their home of drenched pores with each rapid motion of one's flawless body. Ffffffpp noises were huffed through the humid, stuffy air, a tactic used to allow the inner energy in one's body to flow through each punch or kick thrown to release immense strength. A grueling punch was heard, the sound of raw and lacerated skin clashing against the claw-like knuckles of a basilisk. The head knocked back obnoxiously, the sheer crackling of bones shattering in the spine electrifying the erotic air followed by the sound of a thick body slumping to the ground; surrounding voices cheered boisterously at the satisfying sight. The tainted ground reflected the poor souls' figures in crimson, the far right man slowly cracking his neck on each side. “This baby sure can pack a punch,” the voice of halcyon heaved with spoiled exhaustion. The well-known hellion's bare back donned toned muscles sheltered by layers of trickling sweat, the muscles writhing chaotically beneath his skin of alabaster due to excitement. His long torso that was lathered with the smooth skin of porcelain, strong and flawless, had been kissed by salted tears, not a single infliction of pain or wound evident to the naked eye. Every muscle had been visible, etched out carefully and defiantly with impeccable tone. This demon was rather fit, and was perfect for this job, with his long legs that constructed brute kicks that were miraculously power-engineered, and arms that packed just as much muscle. Wearing nothing but his black jeans and mid-calf boots of dusted brown, he was a stereotypical misanthrope who was never up to no good. Having so that his pants had been low around his waist, his lower abs met his hip flexors more visibly, the v-shaped toned muscle quite exposed; a few girls from the crowd screamed his name, and he grunted out of vexation. How bothersome... A look of blasé tainted his face, eyes lazily staring down upon the bloodied man before him; he had it so much worse than this demon... The man's left eye was swollen and shut tightly, ink blotches of horrid purples and blacks dabbing the whole left side of his face from the countless punches it had taken. The bone that outlined the eye socket had shattered on the right side, the skin split open and profusely urging blood to flush out from beneath. His whole bottom lip was torn, the lurking blood leaping from his lip to his chest now. Though, he could take a beating, this young man could give him that. Despite the fact that he was getting his ass torn apart by this eighteen year older, he kept getting back up after every hulking punch. True champ right there. The aesthetic monstrosity strolled towards the limp opponent, his celestial looks of chastity and pulverizing enchantment revealed under the centered light; more girls screeched his name. The color of dull cobalt scraped the irises of this morbid being, heavily with the shovel of grueling boredom as he looked down upon this pathetic man. All he had was a few trails of blood from the corner of his left mouth, and a thin line of blood fall from the end of his brow where the skin had split open. He had absolutely nothing compared to the martyr below him. Standing at the peak of six foot six, this lanky young man towered the fallen man, his basilisk-like arm glowing a light red hue. “Well,” he grunted, looking down at his hand. “For your sake, I'm just going to put you out of your misery, old man...” the demon grinned darkly, the man choking on his own blood, eyes wide with sweltering terror. Lurching his leg forward, the demon's boot made contact with the man's face.

The bothersome pounding of a bell wailed hoarsely, signaling that the fight was over. The faulty misfits who had crowded the ring like a bunch of filthy lab rats all trying to get to the same cheese roared and hollered the kid's name, some hands fist pumping the air whilst others tore their hands through the gate with clutched hands full of cash. “And our winner for the night is Nero!” the commentator bellowed into the mic with a professional tune, racing in to grab the kid's hand and raise it. He was a short man, standing about five foot three, and always wore these unattractive colored suits. Tonight, it was a cream-like orange flannel with a white vest and a golden tie. He didn't match at all. Nero, having rolled his petrifying his eyes at the moron, harshly snatched his bloodied hand away from the man's tiny grasp, and shoved them into his the pockets of his jeans as he side stepped the midget and crossed over the unconscious man. “What an attitude, huh, ladies?” the commentator joked to play off the rejection he had just received from Nero, pointing at the girls who screamed louder as the white-headed man walked out of the cage. As the commentator exited the cage, he demanded two bouncers to clean up the mess. “Kid, hey Kid!” the short, bulky man cried from behind, Nero frustratingly turning around. “What?” the demon barked, raising his eyebrows in a what the fuck could you possibly want now manner. Grinning widely at the boy, the commentator patted Nero's lower back—from what he could reach—and pushed him towards the locker room, knudging him playfully. “You my boy are a hit here!” he rejoiced, Nero looking off to the side and spitting out some blood. The two entered the locker room, and the cool air that filtered the room immediately clung to Nero's damp body like a blood-lusted leech, a wave of relief hastily streaming through his veins. As the demon leisurely strolled over to his locker, the short man quickly paced beside him, his short legs having nothing on Nero's lanky strides. “Thursday night you're going up against Kuabara,” he announced quietly as he looked down to find a paper in the flaps of his suit. “Which one is that?” Nero emitted softly, popping open his locker and reaching for a change of clothes, as well as some body wash. “Just a moment, Kid,” he chided as he unfolded the paper. “Ah, okay let's see...” he murmured, Nero arching his eyebrow at the man's unorganized self before shutting the locker with a loud bang, which had caused the imp of a man to jump. When he had glanced up, his enthralling champ had disappeared. Hurrying off towards the showers, the announcer turned the crumbled paper over as he plopped down on a bench near the area and studied the paper. “Kuabara is two-hundred and ten pounds...but around your height. He's skipping through the rankings quickly, Kid,” he called out. Unbuckling his belt, and undoing his zipper, Nero leaned down to pull of his damp pants, having already kicked off his sweaty boots. “Ugh...” Nero groaned under his hot breath as he threw everything behind him, the commentator looking up at the flying items that landed past him. “Where's he from?” Nero asked, his masculine torso rolling up gracefully to close the mint-green shower curtain behind him, his ruined hand reaching toward the metal nob to turn the temperature it to its hottest. “Hmm...oh, it says he's from Minami, a city in the west,” he informed, looking further down the paper. The incubus allowed his heavy eyelids to come to a closure, exhaling deeply as he stepped into the acidic heat of the rain. The endless tears seemed to seep through his skin, massaging his tensed muscles with its warm fingers and easing his mind through the wispy steam that fogged the encased box he stood within. The water heavily pressed his white hair further down into his eyes, and he stood there for a good five minutes in the boiling haven. Finally reaching for the body wash, he squeezed a decent amount into his hand and began to lather his body with it, the suds forming after so many rubs. The lacerations upon his human-like hand had not reacted to the burning soap at all; an advantage to being a demon. You never really felt pain. Bringing it up to his hair, he messily scruffed up his hair with the cleansing wash, his fingers combing his hair up and backward, the commentator glancing up at that exact moment. “Ha! You look like an American man I know of with your hair like that, or knew of, I should say. His name was Vergil,” he grimaced, turning back to his paper. Nero ignored the little comment and dipped his head back under the water, brushing out his hair to rid the soap. “Sir Renji?” a voice called out from the locker room door, the commentator, Renji, looking over his shoulder. He couldn't see the door due to being in the bathroom area, but he looked anyways. “Yeah?” he shouted, looking back at the paper. “Everything is cleaned up. We're waiting just outside,” the man called out, causing Renji to glance up. “Ah, yes, yes! Perfect! Be out soon, good job!” he appraised, hearing the door shut shortly after the appraisal.'We're'?” Nero repeated in a low grunt, shutting off the water. Whisking the curtain aside, the aesthetic demon stepped out drenching wet, Renji looking up at him; seeing a naked man didn't bother the commentator. He's been in this business for years, it was something he was used to. Renji grabbed the folded towel that Nero had placed on the bench beside him earlier and handed it to him, smirking greatly. “Yes, your reward for tonight's win, Kid!” he snorted with a laughter. “What, did 'ya forget that after a win you get rewarded!? C'mon!” he joked, Nero taking the towel and drying off. Throwing on a clean pair of black jeans and a navy blue v-neck, he seated down beside Renji and leaned over to slip his boots on, groaning out of exhaustion. “Tired?” the man chuckled, Nero shrugging at his question. “Didn't get much sleep last night is all,” he muttered. Nodding understandingly, Renji folded the paper back up and slipped it into the inside pocket of his suit, getting off of the bench now. “Alright, Kid. Let's get outta' here,” he suggested. Standing up, he swung his right arm over his chest and stretched it out, Renji grabbing his dirty clothes and shoving them into his sport bag. “Here,” he grunted as he struggled to zip it, throwing it at Nero. Catching it effortlessly, Nero threw the strap over his head and allowed it to rest against his torso, the bag hanging low at his right flank.

“Now, it's not just money, this time, Kid,” Renji grinned as he locked the locker room door behind the two after stepping out, causing Nero to narrow his glacier-like eyes. Seeing this, Renji laughed. “Don't worry, I hooked you up big time. You'll thank me,” he grimaced as they both walk off towards the exit of the underground fight club, Devil May Cry. “I also have a cab waiting for you. The driver is a good man, goes by the name of Saki. Patient and quiet, your kinda' dude,” Renji jibbed, the young man just nodding at his words. They were now just walking through an empty subway station that had been cut off and shut down due to electrical malfunctions, very few lamps providing light. It was a cold, damp place, Nero's kind of place. “'Ya know, I'm surprised you didn't kill the man like your last two opponents,” Renji mentioned in a tone of shock, looking up at his tall winner. This boy made this guy rich. For a moment, Nero was silent, pondering the words he had just heard. “Guess you can say that he just met me on a good day,” Nero grinned sardonically, glancing down at Renji who, in reply to such a statement, laughed humbly. “That he did, my boy. That he did!”

When the two came up from the subway stairs, waiting outside of a yellow cab was one of the bouncers and another figure, a female to be precise. “Ah, my beautiful Kairi! How do 'ya do?” Renji asked warmly, hurrying over to her and kissing her hand. The girl looked at the short man awkwardly, a beautiful blush blossoming beneath her cheeks like a blooming carnation in the midst of spring. From afar, Nero halted and stared at her, confused but also taken aback. Why was she here? Relaxed waves that fell a bit past her dainty shoulders blew barely in the nighttime breeze, the hue being a faint strawberry-blonde that complimented her cream colored skin quite nicely. A sullen look had been worn by her, though such a depressing mask couldn't touch the innocent beauty her features screamed. She was a small girl, only appearing to be about five foot five, and had a very slender body, having the posture of an insecure one as she took her hand kindly away from Renji and crossed both of her arms around her chest, eyes flying down toward the ground. Shame filtered her amber eyes. Looking over his shoulder, Renji glanced at Nero and impatiently waved his hand for him to come over, opening the door and gesturing for the two to get into the cab. Hesitantly, Nero strolled over, but paused before getting in after the girl. “Who is she, and what is she doing in my cab?” Nero hissed under his breath, glaring at Renji. “She's a part of your reward, my boy! The bag of money is under your seat, kid. But she's still a virgin, so lucky you! The boys caught her last week. A little frisky, but that's because she's just new to this all! Remember, wear protection,” he winked, patting Nero's shoulder. The boy remained silent in his composed stature. And then, it just...happened. So quickly had the motion been so precise and swift, that no one even saw it coming, not even the bouncer. A monstrous, bone-shattering noise erupted within the area, and everyone fell silent, all eyes locked on the two men. Renji was on the ground in a fetal position, flopping and squirming like a fish out of water, and screaming with vulgar. Blood was splattered on the cemented sidewalk, the fool holding his broken nose. And there stood the silent assailant, Nero, cooly as possible. His arm was still held out forward, his large fist tight; the skin that stretched over his battered knuckles were bone white, dashed with a hint of blood. The young male's hair swooshed gently still from the sudden motion, his eyes sharp amongst the fetal man. Torpidly, he unclenched his hand, and sat down in the car, slamming the door shut. The bouncer, looking back between Renji and Nero, hesitantly backed off and coward towards his boss on the ground, helping him up. From inside the care, Nero's face looked bizarrely calm, touched with a sick dash of amusement as a small grin played with his granite lips. Kairi, the girl who had been in the car already, stared at Nero with bewildered eyes, her soft lips having been parted with slack. Clearing his throat, Saki turned to look at Nero. “Where to?” he asked calmly, despite the action that just played before them. Crossing one leg over the other, Nero leaned towards the window and propped his arm along the door's handle, his fist supporting his head up. “Where do you live...” Nero muttered lowly, not even bothering to look at the poor girl. Realizing that he had been talking to her, she blinked quickly and turned toward the front of the car, “U-uhm,” she stuttered, shifting in her seat, “2-22nd avenue, s-sir,” she politely informed with a trembling voice, fear written all over her innocent self. Nodding to the address, Saki looked back towards the windshield and put the car in drive, pulling away from the curb and starting towards the given destination.

The car ride had been a silent excursion, Nero staring out into the world, Kairi keeping her eyes on her hands that had been limply sitting in her lap. A few times, she had debated whether or not to strike a conversation, but after remembering him punch that man, she had decided to just keep her lips sewed shut. Like the winter wonderland that had been left behind to burn in the depths of darkness, the lit up streets of Omoi Ame were blanketed by heavy sheets of snow, only the luminous glows of twinkling, decorative lights buried under the whiteness of trees visible to the silent world before the two. The towering buildings that swallowed the flanks of both beings from inside the car were darkened by the captivating pull of slumber, very few windows having been lit by those who fell under the hours of a nocturnal one casting such little light. The delicious breath of frozen firn smothered the air. The clouds above weeped in tragic sorrow of such chilling nights. The ground curled in mush of wet snow beneath the wet tires, a few screeches here and there when braking or turning. It was a white world. A harsh world to live within... Things were stolen on a daily basis in this world that posed as such an innocent, kind-hearted fool: food, money, property, hearts. Even innocent girls, like the one who had been sitting next to Nero. It was all in the mind. Such a city was a mere illusion to the trifling ones. The tall, lone figure sat limply, his body worn out and deprived of sleep. His acidic eyes of a daunting one were crestfallen among the tiny particles that waltzed around freely outside the window, a few clinging to the cold glass that had separated him from the outside world. As he studied the snow flakes, it came to mind how easily they were given such freedom in their graceful flight. The notorious demon lowered his head slightly and shook it in a gentle fashion, soft flecks of water being flicked from his locks of pure white. A few droplets had pierced Kairi's skin, and she breathlessly gasped, her eyes fluttering towards the man. Now that she looked at him, he too, was just like the snow outside: silent and cruel to any living creature that fell in its way. A natural, unpredictable, and unintentional predator. The cab had pulled onto a less fortunate street, one where the buildings weren't exactly as nice as the other ones here in this city. Perhaps she too, wasn't so fortunate. “It's this building.” The car came to a soft halt momentarily, Saki getting out of the cab to open the door for the girl. Awkwardly, and nervously, she stepped out of the car, the cold air clenching her exposed skin. The sudden sound of the car door slamming from behind frightened her, and she jumped. "Here,” Nero called out cooly in the tone of nonchalance from behind. Twisting around, she had seen that he didn't get out of the car; the window had been rolled down, and his arm stuck out, the black bag full of money hanging from his grasp. The strawberry-blonde stared at him, her eyes swollen with confusion. “What are you doing...?” she asked breathlessly, the cold air taking away her voice. “You need this more than I do. I'll pay off the guys to leave you alone.” This man...who had he been? Standing alone in the midst of this winter, the delicate, virtuous figurine of soft beige peered into the car with charred disbelief, her plump, tiny lips trembling ever so softly. Strokes of faint red pattered her lower lids as the weight of tears balanced atop her eye lashes, one managing to break free from the venus-fly trap-like lashes, and saunter cooly down her silken cheek. Perceptions floating along the pigments of putrid beryl gazed at this feeble damsel before him, a vestige of sympathy bursting within the unreliable irises of this swallowing incubus. Dubiously, this angel stepped forth and swallowed, her eyes crestfallen; within the depths of those amber eyes, Nero had seen warmth and adoration strive. “What is your name?” she murmured softly, those amber eyes of hers ruining his brooding demeanor on the inside. It was silent for a moment, the flakes swirling around her, crash landing into her hair and nesting quietly in the warmth it provided. “...Nero.” Very faintly, her cold hand pressed against his cheek, his eyes widening by the slightest bit. His eyes followed as the girl's beige face came up to his own, and planted an unutterable image of her gentle lips pressing against his forehead. He waited to feel it, to feel something he hadn't felt in what seemed like an eon, closing his eyes just as her lips of silk grazed his skin. “Thank you, Nero. Thank you!” she pleaded sorrowfully, pulling away and grabbing the bag from his hand carefully. And then, she had turned around, and disappeared into the building. Just like that. Silently, he stared at the spot where she had been moments ago, finally rolling the window up and sinking back into his seat. “That was kind of you. A man giving up the chance to get laid by a hot chick like that...what a bizarre fellow you are...” Saki cracked. From the corner of his eye, he stared at the building, and tried to guess which window had been hers. “I'm not one to take advantage of women.” With that, the cab drove off into the winter wonderland.
| End of Day One |
Nero Angelo
Nero Angelo
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Posts : 82
Join date : 2013-01-10
Age : 29
Location : Hey, Hey, Hey! C'mon, Babe!

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||Hackin N' Slashin|| [ CLOSED TOPIC ] Empty Re: ||Hackin N' Slashin|| [ CLOSED TOPIC ]

Post by Nero Angelo Thu Mar 14, 2013 7:03 pm

Thank you Claire for coloring in/editing all of these images for me, despite the fact that you're as sick as a dog.
You 'da best.




| NERO ANGELO |
||Hackin N' Slashin|| [ CLOSED TOPIC ] Kairinero22kk_zpscfe818e6 ||Hackin N' Slashin|| [ CLOSED TOPIC ] Kairinero22kz_zps246d40b5

HACKIN N' SLASHIN.


| Day Twenty-Nine |

His ruby eyes were violently hacked into fleshed irises as torture gnawed at his eyes, gawking at her in such disgust. A weak smile formed upon such heavenly lips, reassuring the man that she was alright. But the brooding demon ignored the sign of comfort from his faithful lover, and moaned real quiet, his head slumping against the royal blue sheets. A silken hand was placed upon the back of his head,twirling locks of snow between her thin fingers. Her skin was icy, he dreadfully descried. "Are you cold, my beloved?" he immediately asked in a voice of distraught, his ruined eyes fleeting to meet hers. She flinched back at his sudden movement, then giggled with fatigue. "No,dear. I feel a bit too warm, actually." Sucking in the air rapidly from her frightening words, he stood in a mere second and removed the thick comforter, leaving nothing but the thin sheet that sank down among her long legs. Sitting back down on the stool beside their bed,his long, feathery fingers blanketed her brisk, brittle fingers, kissing them blandly with his tepid lips. "Thank you," she whispered graciously with a soft smile. Though her thanks were simply ignored as he just sat there and allowed his eyes to gaze at her bulging belly. It was huge. Too huge for her teeny figure. Her body was swollen, her torso ballooning out in a strange, sick way among her velvet skin. It strained against the thin, white sheet that blanketed her. It looked odd, strange. Not right... It was as though the child inside was taking any sliver of nutrients her body gained, and saved it for itself. Leaving her body to rot thinly. Two pale hands came into view as the mother folded them ever so tenderly now around her bloated stomach, one above and one below. This gesture made him the sword of slight guilt stab his heart for thinking so; he could not blame the child inside. Not the gorgeous being these two had created through such beautiful acts of love. It was the illness she had, the sickness that clung to her and only her, because she was the perfect target. Small and weak, easy to take down such a poor system. At that moment, he wished to cry. Glancing up at her face, his stomach heaved; the bones jabbing against the skin of her face, the heavy circles dragging lowly beneath her beautiful eyes... A smile seemed as though that it would tear her skin cleanly like a paper butterfly. Seeing his wife in such misery—and trying to smile through it all for him—made him want to wither like a wilting rose.His eyes fell flat, the circles under his own dark purple. "Excuse me, love. I'm going to go get you something to drink. I'll bring back some bread too, you look hungry." Without looking at her, he rose fluidly and left the room quietly.

Outside the closed door, he paced down the narrow, dark hall quickly. Coming to the dining room, he sat down at the table alone, the silence welcoming him eagerly. The man rose a hand as if to swipe away sweat from his forehead, but his fingers scraped against his face like they were going to rip his granite skin right off. His dark crimson eyes burned in their sockets as he leaned over the table in his chair, his eyes out of focus, or possibly seeing things that weren't there. His mouth opened like he was going to scream, but nothing came out; this was the face a man would have if he were burning at the stake. She wasn't dying, no. But she was sick. Deathly sick. Not only is this a threat to her health, but also their child... "This is all my fault..." he whispered to his reflection in the glossed wooden table,his hands shaking along the sides of his temples. "Yes, yes it's all my fault," he groaned into the table, like he was confessing to it. "I shouldn't have brought her with me on the travel back to here until she had given birth!" he groaned in agony, shaking his head and slamming his eyes to a closure. "Her body would have been stronger...healthier...! But that could have been dangerous for our child... Ugh! Oh, from the Gods above, let this befallen illness be my set of hot coals of blame to swallow!" he moaned hopelessly. His broken helplessness irritated the dust motes around him, fussing as they swirled by. Slamming his head into his folded arms among the table, he sat there silently.And for the first time in over a thousand years, this demon wept tears of sorrow.

Standing in the dark lit kitchen, the moon danced behind the sheer glass of the window, its glowing light of lead humming against his bare back. The shadows that sheltered below his muscles came out from their hiding, the moon's light allowing them to sing and scatter with his movement. One hand reached out and grabbed a glass cup, the other opening a deep drawer filled with tin trays and sheets. Withdrawing a silver tray, he placed it down silently and placed the water-filled pitcher among it, along with half a loaf of wheat bread. She usually liked her bread warm, and he'd usually place it in the oven for her to vaguely warm the sweet dough, but he wanted to get back to her as soon as he could.He already wasted time weeping.When he had returned to his room where his beloved awaited his presence and offers, he froze.
The tray fell.
The glass shattered.
The blood stained his sight.


|  |  |


Eyes wide, muscles clenched. He watched atrociously as two nurses were demonstrating and walking his plum angel through the things she needed to do. 'Deep breaths. Inhale. Exhale. Push. Repeat.' Her painful screams were like chipped nails slowly being dragged against a chalkboard, sending a wave of rippling shivers along the man's bare skin. The wails of pain screeched inside his ears, her sobs and panicking breaths accumulated within the stuffy room, causing him to convulse. And that was more than enough for him. "Get IT out of her! Now!" he roared furiously, the nurses jumping at the sudden demand. "Sir, we can't just—" He was now towering over her, his eyes red and bloodshot, swimming in the pools of agonizing death.Her pain was his pain. "Get. It. Out. Now," he hissed slowly, baring his teeth at her as he spat each word through his teeth. "I want that thing out of my wife this instant! It's causing her pa—" he began to yell,but he was immediately cut off by a raspy voice. "Get out of the room! Get out, GET OUT!" she screamed as she pushed, causing him to flinch at the tone of her voice. She had never spoken to him that wa— "Now!" she urged painfully, her restless eyes glaring at him like a wild beast.And so he left, just as she wished. He waited. Slumped down to the ground in the hallway and waited. Head in his arms, knees brought up for support. Heard her muffled screams. Heard her struggling. Heard the pain she was experiencing...It was madness, excruciating madness! He never wished for his beloved to be in such pain! Oh, this was all his fault... This was all this damned demon's fau—

“Sleep, my love, as the trees above, protect you from the dark.
A great river will watch you as you dream until dawn.
Sleep my love, close your eyes and when you´ve awaken,
the new day will bring to you a bright new world.
Sleep my love as the birds above do rest their weary wings
Let the rain play a gentle song to help your dreams sing.
Sleep my love close your eyes and when you awaken
The new day will bring to you a bright new world
Ever so gently, hear my voice.
Ever so softly feel my touch
Always so gently I walk
So go to sleep my love."


Slowly, the irrevocable voice of thy angel sang a melody so incredulous, that any heart that had pushed forth a beat came to a halt. Every being fell silent, as the words of a lullaby slowly sank into the cool air, the voice of a mother humming her infant to sleep. A newborn child. The door opened just then, though this man hadn't noticed; he was too mesmerized by the voice of his angel. "Sir," a voice awoke him from the depths of his trance, he bringing his head up slightly to look at the nurse. There was blood on her apron. His love's blood. The child's blood. His stomach churned. The nurse helped the useless man onto his feet, and guided him back to the room, his heavy footsteps revealing how he wished to not see this child. It caused his wife pain, it made her sick... When he walked into the room, both of the nurses left him alone, closing the door behind themas they exited. He noticed how one girl had balled up sheets in her arms. His stomach heaved. Slowly, his eyes traveled far to the royal bed, and found his love sitting up with newly sheeted pillows supporting her back. Her deep red hair had been pulled back into a braid that loosely fell along her side, a few strands of her bangs escaping the pulled-back hair. Her head was cocked softly, tenderly smiling as tears lightly stroked her flushed cheeks of rose. So heavenly her blush was... The demon inhaled deeply and walked over quietly, crawling into the bed. Positioned right beside her, he clasped his hands together along his lap and kissed the top of her head, the fragile woman leaning into his kiss. Her hair was damp and smelt of fresh roses, a scent that always swooned his mind. Glancing down now, he stared at the small, sleeping being that was wrapped up in a cocoon of silk blanket, the look of peace kissing its face. It was a beautiful baby. The hatred and madness he once felt for this being in his wife's arms immediately vanished, a sudden rush of awe and adoration choking him now, leaving him breathless. This was her child. His child. Their child. "Isn't he beautiful?" she softly murmured, her finger lightly stroking their child's scruff of white hair. "Not as beautiful as his mother but..." he smiled, kissing her forehead. Her soft laughter brushed off her smiling lips. "Yes, he is beautiful." Without another exchange of words, the two parents sat there and stared at their sleeping child, admiring the tiny, innocent being. "Are you scared?" she had asked momentarily, her blue eyes glancing up at her demon. He remained silent, his eyes studying the sleeping beauty. "...Kind of,” he admitted in a shattered whisper,lifting his hand to stroke the head of the child. "Don't be...you'll be a wonderful father,” she interjected in a hushed tone, staring at him with hurtful eyes. "What if I—" "You won't hurt him, my dear...We've gotten through the worst. Now it's time for the better... You've conquered it. It'll be calm seas and easy sailing from here," the dazzling woman reassured in such a beautiful voice, her husband shifting his eyes towards her. "We've conquered it. If it weren't for you, we wouldn't be here right now... Need to give yourself more credit, my beloved." She smiled softly as she shook her head in disagreement. "If it weren't for you too, the three of us wouldn't be here." Looking down, the man allowed his finger to nestle with his child's hand, its tiny, blue claws grasping it unconsciously in its slumber.



Another dream about them...

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“Ugh...” a groggily groan grumbled, the demon stiffly stretching out his torso as he rose his lanky arms above his head to loosen up. The muscles beneath his stone skin had coiled up so tightly from being so still for quite some time, sobbing their aches and pains to the man. Yet again, had the beast fallen to his slumber upon this small couch.Languidly, his mouth gaped and was held in that position briefly, a low, tiresome yawn drifting from his mouth momentarily. Wheeling his diabolical arm away from the arm rest that had been behind him, his ghastly-blue claw heavily smacked his face like dead weight, trying to force the waves of consciousness into his being. “Mhrm,” he grumbled beneath his large serpent claw, the ropes of laziness restraining him from getting up. Parting his long blue fingers, the groggy incubus opened his right eye to peek through the slit between his thumb and pointer finger; the incandescent sunlight that shone through the large window just behind the couch polished the whole living room, the radiant light causing a stinging sensation to his eyes, as if someone had poured bleach right into his sockets. “Ah, fuck!” the demon wailed in a befuddled croak, shutting the eye once more to shield his sight from such blinding light. Five more minutes. Please. Five more minutes of sleep... he thought, reaching for the pillow beneath his head with his left hand—whilst his right claw still blanketed his face—and slapped it down to block out the light. A heavy sigh fluttered from beneath the pillow, his chest falling with relief as the darkness overcame him. Five more minu— Without warning, the annoying chime of the bell screeched throughout his apartment, causing the demon to fly off of the couch out of fright. His head smacked against the wooden floor and he bit his lip, his hands flying up to his face as he rolled around. “FOR FUCK'S SAKE!” he yelled, pulling his knees beneath him and pushing up, now glaring at the door with blistering eyes of penetrating acid. Huffing out of frustration, the hulking twenty year old stumbling onto his feet to answer the door. Just as he rose, the door bell rang once more, and Nero grunted a swear under his breath. “If you fucking ring that door bell one more time....” he threatened in a hiss, his hand lurching towards the lock and flipping it to the left, grasping the handle and twisting it. His serpentine eyes of sweltering blues narrowed as the door swung open, ready to chew the hell out of whoever thought they had the right to come ringing his doorbell like a moronic child. “Nero?” the voice asked in such a serene voice, his squinted eyes of a sleepy one widening. Before him stood a slender woman who came up to below his pecks, her neck arched greatly to achieve direct eye contact with him.Amber eyes. Blinking rather hardly, he rose his hand and rubbed one eye, clearing his throat and straightening up. “What are you doing here?” he asked lowly, slumber still lingering in the depths of his laid-back voice. Looking away from his eyes, a coat of blush licked her soft cheeks as she was face to face with his bare, chiseled chest,quickly glancing down out of embarrassment. “I, I uhm,” she stammered, her petal-pink lips trembling ever so slightly. Nero rose both eyebrows, waiting for the girl to speak up. That's when he saw what she had in her small hands, arching one brow at the tin-foiled item. “I made you a cake. For what you did for me last night. I wasn't sure how else to thank you...” she muttered softly, biting the inside of her cheeks as she cocked her head back up to look at him. “How did you get my address?” he asked moments later, still trying to process everything with the tired mind of his. “Renji.” As she had said his name, the most beautiful smirk lathered her matte lips, the kind that softly touched the bottom of one's eye and made them look devilishly attractive. On the inside, he was inhaling the beauty of such a smirk on a girl, though of course, on the outside his listless eyes denied this truth of her features he had actually been peering at. And as his harlequin masked eyes had denied the truth, he too, shook off the thought of appearance, no longer intrigued by a sight.“Well...thanks...I guess,” he muttered eventually, taking the cake from her. The demon could feel the warmth against his palm from beneath the cooking pan, and looked back at Kairi. “What was your na—“ The sudden gasp that popped from her beautiful lips caused him to flinch by a smidgen, staring at her awkwardly. “What?” “Your house...it's a mess...” she commented. Looking over his shoulder, his eyes scouted the living room. Oh shit. Pizza boxes from ages ago were piled up upon the bar, beer bottles and soda cans nesting upon whatever stable surface their glass or aluminum bottoms could find sturdy enough. Clothes were strewn upon every seating object there was, and a few pictures that held meaningless images hung with aslant. Odd choking noises came from Nero's throat as his lips parted to speak, though no excuse was available in mind to explain why it had been such a mess. “I've been meaning to get a maid...just been super busy and all,” he cooly played off, leaning against the door frame now to block her sight. Rolling her eyes, she crossed her arms and stared at him, clearly not buying what he had just told her. “I'll clean it for free weekly if you need me to.”

And that's how I got to know Kairi. Two days a week she'd come over and clean, quietly and avoided me at all times. I think she just didn't want me to view her as troublesome, and I honestly appreciated her consideration. It became a normal routine: Mondays and Thursdays she came over to clean, I went to work. I'd come home to a desolate house that was spit-spot clean, and a home cooked meal; quite the treat her cooking was. Because I had gotten so damn used to her awesome cooking, I quickly got tired of pizza, and refused to order it. Now, I either stuck to chinese or some take out from a nearby bar. She and I had gotten fairly close, even though we never really crossed paths. I no longer had to keep my guard up, and she no longer had to worry about trust between she and I. It was one winter night, though, that changed everything between us... We had been walking down the street when the crisp leaves were falling, and we came to a place where there were hardly any trees, and the sidewalk was white with moonlight, padded by the cold, wet snow. Perhaps it had been the wine that we both consumed earlier at dinner, but we stopped to face one another. Now, it was a cool night with that mysterious excitement in it which came at the two changes of the year. The quiet lights in the distancing apartments were humming out into the darkness, and there was a stir and bustle among the stars. I can remember my heart beat faster and faster as Kairi’s succulent face came up to my own. For shits and giggles, my intoxicated mind had tried to convince my being that I was dreaming. Or that I was just really shitfaced. But I knew that if this girl kissed me, I'd be damned like all men when encountering their beloved mistress. So I anxiously waited, listening for a moment longer to the soft breath that flushed her warm lips. And then I kissed her. I think I had gotten impatient waiting for her to kiss me and whatnot. But I went for it. And at my lips’ touch, she blossomed for me like a flower, and the incarnation was complete. How had I felt? I felt like a man who had just been given birth once again, given another chance to live for the right reasons, this time. But just as quickly as my bliss had breathed into my lungs, it had been sucked out by the interruption of the damned.

Nero's eyes torpidly leaked downward, his lips parting softly as his cobalt eyes caught the glimpse of crimson unhurriedly pour out like spilt ink, absorbing the fibers of his shirt with sticky fingers. Her breath drew in sharply, her eyes shivering in distress as she tried to make out what had just happened. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. The right shoulder hurtled forward, blood flying out of the wound as it sprung forward and splashed onto the cold snow. The left shoulder flinched—the body of the man flinching by the slightest bit—blood jumping out as the bullet pierced the skin and swam through its flesh, kicking up blood in its tracks. A third bang sent a piercing soldier right through his chest, just above his left breast. And the final bang went swiveling into the lower left side of the his lanky torso. The demon leaned forward by the slightest bit; in a matter of seconds, his side and chest had both looked like they were stained with gruesome splotches of crimson ink, the blood swallowing up the fabric of his shirt with greedy fingers. The girl's eyes were wide, her paralyzing irises the size of beads as they shrunk in dismay, in searing agony as the man before her was falling to his death. A hazy, thick fog of silence hovered within the area. And then a plethora of ear-splitting cracks boomed throughout her mind, and her mouth hung open. Realization finally registered within her. Her amber irises shrunk as Nero stood standing still, his eyes just staring at the holes in his body. She tried to scream, but the only thing that poured out of her mouth was the heated waves of her shaking breath. “What the hell...?” Nero breathed as he turned to look over his shoulder, his locks of snow tingling in the moonlight's captivating shower, eyes searching for whoever shot at him. That bouncer... “I was ordered by Sir Renji,” he had informed as he caught Nero's stare, Kairi jerking her face past Nero's body to stare at the man. The demon's eyes widened at the name. Renji...ordered to have me killed? Fucking bastard. Shifting around, Nero cracked his neck as he cocked his head off to the right, the demonic feature that consumed his whole right arm glowering a deep hue of red. “Is that so...?” Nero called out with nonchalance, a dent furrowing deeply between Kair'i's eyebrows; he shouldn't be talking so coolly after that many shots..! The bouncer cocked his gun once more, and the ringing click of the metal sliding caused Nero to grin. With superb speed, he twirled out a magnum from beneath his coat, holding it confidently in the man's direction as he stood sideways to him. The gun within his hand was an M1911-style handgun chambered for the .45 ACP round, and had a plethora of customized features... Nero had the gun customized from the days when he worked for The Order of Swords... “You can either turn your ugly ass back around and get in that car, I sparing your life...or you can stay here, and let me either one: shoot you, or two: rip you two shreds.. It's your call, pal," he suggested with a sardonic grin. Kairi's eyes swelled up with tears, confused to how this was all playing before her. Nero having been shot multiple times, yet miraculously speaking and standing. The bouncer having been sent to kill Nero, and possibly her too, for all they knew. The sardonic features buried within this man now emerged from their damp graves as he shifted his bizarre body of sheer lankiness towards the man, picking up a leg and beginning his delivery of freight in the bouncer's direction, the glowing light of guidance from the moon humming against his basilisk arm. The weeping shadows that sheltered the drop-offs below his muscles came out from their hiding, the moon's light allowing them to dart and scatter with his leisure movement. “So. Which is it going to be?” The demon watched the man with steady eyes, reassuring his analytical mind that he wouldn't flee from his presence drawing near like leaking blood, thick and dreadful. Due to the length of his legs, he managed to scout the distance between the two in a matter of five steps, coming to a composed halt. “Eat shit...” the bouncer barked, his arm snapping forward. Nero's head jerked disturbingly back.

Hopelessness. Despondency. Dread. Her knees must have been shaking, because the trees on each side of her were suddenly wobbling as she barely stumbled through the soaked snow, a distant look confiscating her flawless face, a touch of lost within those mocking eyes. No... Paralyzation stung her lustrous eyes. Her locks of strawberry blonde swooshed gently side to side as she trudged, silence kissing the thick air in the silence that she was trapped in. Nero... The man who kept her company in his silent demeanor. The man who saved her that cold night, and gave up so much money for her sake... Her heart combusted into blistering flames of disgust. Disgusted with herself... She felt stock-still, numb, petrified, frozen... How could she ever forgive herself for just standing there and allowing this to all happen before her? Why hadn't she ran for help? Was it because she knew that by time she reached a source, he would be dead...? Picking up her foot, she took a steps forward as hands of fighters rose and conquered one another, with metallic objects rather than fleshed ones. Ignoring the fact that her action was futile, her legs mechanically just kept moving forward, one step after the other. It was getting her nowhere. Time made no sense as she pushed slowly through the thick atmosphere, her eyes wide with pain and shrinking in dismay as the sound of another bullet fired... Kairi was just lost in an unthinking stupor, holding with all her strength to the numbness that kept her from realizing what she didn't want to know. "No...Nero..." A melancholy tone shifted among her single plea and lips. The more she walked, the more chaotic thoughts poured into her head. Pessimistic ones that dug themselves deeply within the walls of her mind, nibbling upon her conscious. "No, please..." He didn't deserve this. “NE—“ Just then—what body should have been lying motionless on the ground—twisted around so fluidly, the raw, massive strength thrilling in the demon's limbs as his demonic arm prepared itself to launch upward.

The snow made a slushing noise as a limp body fell into its white web, the dampness crawling throughout the body's suit. A yawning fissure was composed upon the chest of thy deceased, a slow pool of rust-like snow forming just beneath the body. Breath, first. Heart beat, second. Sanity, third... One by one, the woman’s system of consciousness all began to fall, fall like that of pouring water from a fountain’s head. They clattered and clanged against the rotting earth, this breakable-glassed angel of cream now feeble to the man before her. Her fragile body insufflated the delicious breath of defeat, the sin’s languid eyes watching with accurate precision as he had turned around to stare at her. This demon knew that she was in his clawing hands of dismay, investigating the case of her demolished eyes. At her terrified sight, his heart slumped in his chest. "W-what are you..." the woman conveyed in a meek babble of bittersweet fear. The eyes of this disgrace tapered, his demonic hand that was once held out, now falling limply behind his back to hide from such innocent eyes. "You should be dead! Dead, dead, dead!" Nero turned his head to the side and cringed at her repeated words of truth, shame charring his eyes. “Kairi I can expla—” ”You're a monster!" she illuminated with fright; perhaps she saw his bolster as some sort of dysfunctional bluff… Her fragile body stumbled to the side to look at the dead man behind Nero; the foe was ruined, soon to be pulled under by the roots of decay beneath his deceased body. But the man had been killed by Nero. A man whom she had thought was a magnificent man...when he really wasn't. “You're nothing but a damned demon, aren't you...one of those sick, disgusting—“ Nero's body convulsed at the word disgusting, “—demons!” she cried. “No, no Kairi, please,” Nero pleaded, his once tranquil voice now flushed with trembling layers of misery. “I can explain, I really can!” he whimpered in a low tone, reaching out his human hand towards her. The angel timorously quivered back a few steps, her eyes widening in abhorrence. And just like that, she turned around, and disappeared into the darkness, her silent sobs ruminating Nero's vacant heart.


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An old creaking pitch from of the twisting of a knob echoed in the desolate bathroom. A beam of water flowed out from the silver faucet, pooling into the tub and starting to consume the dryness, steam slithering up into the air like that of a serpent. The tub was filling up rather quickly now, eyes cold as ever watching pure water collect and form an ocean. Once it had been filled, the demon lowered himself into the large tub, the hot steam from the sweltering surface painting his exposed skin with its most delicate paint brush, his cold skin reacting immensely to its soothing warmth. Lowering in gently, he allowed his body to emerge  into the clear, fluid blanket of heat so that his body could get used to the warmth of the water, his torn eyes watching the ripples swim out from beneath his welcoming body. Everything had still been on—his black jeans, his boots, the bullet-ruined shirt. With his monstrous arm, he limply pulled it out of the water and without effort, padded around on the floor to find the bottle of Peach Ciroc that he had placed beside it for his own sake. His sharp fingers clanged against the glass bottle momentarily, and he snarled its neck in his angered grasp and brought it up to his face, staring at the clear bottle. "Just you and I tonight, sweet Ciroc..." he mumbled in a broken tone, cracking it open and throwing the grey cap behind him without care. Taking a swig of it, he pressed his lips in a straight line as the harsh alcohol flushed down his throat, causing his eyes to water slightly. In a sense, it burned him; he wasn't really one for alcohol. But this was an occasion where it was much needed... A half hour later, the bottle sat half-indulged in the water, almost empty. His limp body had slumped further down into the water, his top lip separated from his bottom as the glassy water created a barrier between the two. The holes that had once made home in his chest had been closed, as well as the one amongst his forehead. "Such a shame..." he gurgled under the water, referring to how he was still alive. Lifting the bottle, he cradled it in his arm as he took another sip, coughing most of it up into the bath water; at this point, he was just drinking to drink. His deadly body had already succumbed to the devil's poison, numb and weightless. Though, it had no where close to the effect on him as it would for a futile mortal. A whole bottle in such a short time could kill a human. A whole bottle in such a short time could only buzz a demon. But with the fact that he had a few glasses of wine with that girl earlier at their dinner, this demon was just a tad tipsy. Glancing down at the bottle, he kissed the glass rim and sighed miserably, groaning out loudly as he thought about the events that folded tonight. "Fucking Sparda... It's all your fucking fault!" he growled at the damned spirit, chucking the bottle of Ciroc at the granite wall and watching the glass shatter like the shards of a bullet's casing when piercing a hard surface. The crystals showered amongst the ground, his heavy eyes staring off to the side for a moment before submerging his whole head beneath the water. Like the lifeless seagrass that motioned in the ocean's currents, his hair wavered from the ripples above, his eyes coming to a closure. The outside world had disappeared, drowned out by the low humming of the tub's water draining—wait, why was the water draining!? Hastily emerging from the warm water, Nero gasped for air and shook his head, the water crystals flinging from his snowy branches. When his pale eyelids creaked open, he spotted Kairi leaning over the tub, the plug dangling from her hand. Her hair had been horribly damp, and her skin seemed fairer than he had ever remembered it being. Powdered blotches of red stung the very rims of her lower lids, resulting from the constant irritation of fingers rubbing the skin. From crying, possibly. Her white coat was wet, and her black turtle-neck dress clung to her body like a leech, her visible rib cages evident through the material. She too, looked a horrid mess. Ignoring her rugged appearance, he barred his teeth at her, a low growl rumbling in the midst of his throat. "What the hell!?" he snarled, pathetically reaching for it, but failing miserably to even come close to grasping it. That bottle did some damage. As he had reached for it, she teasingly pulled it away from him, though no sliver of amusement tugged at her amber irises. "Nero, what are you doing to yourself..." she murmured in a gentle tune, plugging the tub up once again to stop the water. His acidic eyes tore at her own, burning at the stakes within his black sockets. "What's it matter to you..." he croaked, his long demon-like fingers slowly curling around the tub's rim to help him pull his dead body up. Watching with sympathetic eyes, she leaned down and cupped her frail hands beneath his armpits, pulling him up. Though she was just trying to be kind, he smacked her hands away and glared at her beneath dark lashes, turning away from her. "What do you want..." he demanded in a stern, low voice, his eyes straying from her angelic complexion. Taken aback by the harsh demand, her eyes fell from his for a moment. "I just wanted to apolo—" "...I just wanted you to be mine, but did that work out?" A whisper so soft stroked this demon's poisonous lips all of a sudden, not a slithering hint of intoxication within the wavelengths of cool tones that his voice naturally formed. Anchoring his heavy eyelids to gaze at the beauty before him, the deep orbs of cobalt blue were drowning with flecks of honesty, a swell of sorrow rolling in. Strands of strawberry blond stuck out from her loose wavy ponytail, curling gently in their free state, her rich eyes of sweet, sweet amber staring into his own with the reigns of flabbergast. Silence crept beneath the two beings, the hot water softly churning, the steam creeping up within the dry air. "I just wanted to protect you," he muttered, raising a soaked hand to push back his damp hair of snow. As he did, beads of water trickled down his defiant features. "I never...wanted to scare you. I never wanted you to see that side of me, Kairi...but..." his voice cracked on but, her gentle eyes glistening in their shell suites. "...but that man angered me! It disgusted me...he was going to dispose of you after me." His eyes darkened, the ice glaciers peeling to a deepened hue as they sunk in the cool Antarctic waters of enmity. "I wasn't going to let anything happen to you. I swore the night I met you, that I would keep you safe," he mumbled, looking up at her. The angel's lips had been parted with the gasp of awe, her crystalline eyes tender like the beaten meat in a butcher shop, swollen and bloodied to the pulp. Only her eyes had been beaten by the odds of the unexpected. "I'm sorry that I am what I am," he apologized in such a voice of trembling sorrow, his eyes gandering towards the demonic arm. "If you fear me for what I am, I don't blame you. Everyone fears me," he chuckled dolefully, the twitching muscles around the corners of his mouth heavily falling. "Nero..." The hellion's soaked body visibly jerked as his name fell from her lips like spoken silk, the syllables rippling in the air between them like running water. The demon's eyes widened and he felt his sudden breath catch in his raw throat. It was not hate that flavored the seducing coo of her voice, rather it was an emotion he could not name, one that was more akin to awe or wonderment. He reveled in the chiming sound, a hunger growing to hear his name repeated again and again from those damnable lips, those lips that drove him mad and caressed him into sanity with each touch he imagined upon his very own. Damn her. Damn her and her cruel perfection. How he wished he could break the spell she so easily placed him under, already having wrapped her subtle and yet powerful web all over his heart. Nero knew this feeling all too well, and his body shuddered at the thought of being caught in its hold once again. As she sat there, so close in proximity to this charming demon, she wished he would take her in his arms right then, and never let go. Her mind clashed together, forming a righteous din within the cavernous expanses of her consciousness. She was caught in the crossfire, torn between her better judgment, and the dreadful need to touch him, and be touched by him. It was a hellish curse on this man and his damned voice that echoed so soothingly in her frenetic mind. A smile tugged wryly on his lips then, casting a crooked gleam of devilish play on his angel's visage as his oceanic eyes rolled to cast their gaze upon her very own. Like she had done to him, that look held her breath hostage. She screamed within the confines of her mind, pure joy echoing through the halls of her thoughts that she could receive such an exclusive look from him who had stolen the tiny shred of trust and affection that had managed to thrive somehow in the darkened pits of her heart. Here she was, a woman who held such gruesome thoughts against demons, possibly falling for a demon. His voice was given life once again and a choked, dry sob cracked through her visage of neutrality to reveal the turmoil within. "Wouldn't it be best to stray from a sinful demon?" Right there, crouched down before this soaked man, she had wanted to holler, to throw herself into a rage at his careless words. How was this amusing to the bastard? A sinful demon? No, no! The only adjective she could have described him with in that moment was 'imbecile', and though a mass of other descriptions soared into her mind, she ignored them and chose to air the flames of her irritation and perhaps use the budding anger to break whatever spell he had placed her under. Whatever spell made her weak and vulnerable from a simple glance of this man's dark and brooding eye. Though, she had very much adored the way he looked at her, as if she were the center of his universe.

The demon leaned forward, Kairi having gasped at the vision, feeling the profound need to pull him from such prostration that she cursed her body for its inability to move as it needed. The woman bit her lip at the maddening site of his snowy hair falling damply over his forehead as he bent slightly to be directly face to face. The horrid want to be held by him rose in her body, blossoming into a desperate need that he must have subconsciously acknowledged for at that moment, his hands rose from his lap and pressed against her sides, the warm water from his grasp having seeped through her clothes and licked her cold skin.How many times had he imagined his hands holding her hour glass shape...? The frail woman fell against his body as he pulled her in, clothes and all, she melting at the slightest of his touches when she found his hell fires had not burned away. His gentle hands caressed her soft skin, finding their pleasure along the curves of her jaw. Nero mesmerized the planes of her face that cut through his hand, letting her overwhelming skin of absolute creme drench his sensitive finger tips with excitement. Turning her face upward at his touch, her lips falling open ever so slightly in an invitation that she would allow only him to answer, Kairi allowed her paper thin eyelids to flutter to a closure, the darkness submerging her sight. "You're beautiful." Her heart stuttered at the sound of his cool voice, his beautiful, perfect voice that hummed in her ears so pleasantly, each syllable falling with a sickly sweet attraction as if meant solely to keep her rooted in his arms. His hand found the small curve in her back and he tightened his hold, refusing to ever let this angel disappear from him, now. As he held her closer, her tiny being snuggled closer to his torso, utterly small hands grasping for handholds that would prove futile if he should have even the slightest notion to remove them. Inhaling the sight of this perfect being curled up along his body, Nero allowed his tender fingers to pull her chin upward, bringing her face to his as he brushed his nose over hers in such a familiar motion that a slight blush found sanctuary upon her cheeks, his fingers drifting away and lightly twisting the soft strands of strawberry blonde between his claws that fell beside her face. As his basilisk eyes gazed down upon the woman, he couldn't help but discover the fact that she been far more beautiful than his past lover, Kyrie. Her soft features were gentle and indulging, as if God himself had sculpted such a delicate face with his worthy and powerful fingers. For a moment, the two sat in the lovely silence, both soaking wet as each absorbed one another's affections. She with his hair playing, and he with her tight embrace. It wasn't until that lock of hair fell against her face that the heaven's gates craned open, and the piercing screams of angels cried from beyond their sacred grove, that he leaned in to her succulent offering. Marbled lips found satin lips in a matter of seconds, though, these kisses were not strong; they were inaudible as they barely made contact. More so of a brushing to thy lips, than full pressure. Lightly, with each kiss, he'd give more contact to their lips, but kept it lingering, kept it warm. With each gentle brush, he slowly rose from the bath, ignoring the fact of drenching the floor due to water-locked clothes. Her breath lingered on his lips, and her scent perfumed his senses, leaving him drunk with her infectious presence. This demon leaned into the angel, his lips of snow locking with her lips of summer before letting all the anger and starvation for affection within him break loose. He let his hunger out, feeding it with each new kiss he gave, her lips of such harmony fitting his own almost too perfectly. Nero cradled her beautiful head in one hand as he casually stepped out of the tub and roughly pressed her up against the bathroom wall, his one hand sliding along her body; how such desire hid beneath his lips and tongue... He'd keep himself tamed, though. The kisses became more deep, more passionate as their lips waltzed together in the beauty of synchronization, his tongue every now and then venturing into her mouth that was ever so sickly sweet and charming. Her nimble fingers fell from the nape of his neck to his shirt, and for a spur moment their lips broke loose just so that she could yank his heavy shirt off. She looked at him then, her amber eyes feasting on the cruel perfection of his wet body. Muscles coiling and twisting with chiseled definition, sheathed by a thin layer of warm tears from the bath's befallen ocean. His hand gripped her side tightly now, the hungry desire behind his touch forcing her mind into a spiraling vortex, and she suddenly found it hard to keep herself focused on the presence of anything but him and his body against hers. A devilish, wary smile played with his wet lips, those lips of rose tinted ivory, those lips that tasted sweeter than the sweetest honey, those lips... They met hers once again and she was lost in the enthralling captivity he so effortlessly threw over her, pushing against her more; from such a demanding shove, she let out a small whimper at the feel of his weight on her body, the suffocating closeness of him making her heart skip with blistering intensity that caused her hand to tighten in his snowy hair.

Pushing off of the bathroom wall, he stumbled into the room and set her down—fairly close to his body still—and the two struggled together to release the exposure of her body from the bothersome clothes she still wore, her hands tearing off the white flannel as his yanked the black dress that hugged her beautifully curvaceous body too well. The magnificent woman clung once again to this poisonous demon like a deer tick, her lips dancing with his in perfect synchronization, her tongue rolling over and around his with sensual intricacy, her wet body sticking to his like oak sap. Nero's fingers danced along her feminine stature, her cold skin ever so sensitive beneath his touch; this teasing sent sparks waltzing along her skin, goose flesh rising in the wake of his touch and slight shudders cascading amongst her spine. How could a demon represent heaven, he being his own sanctuary in which she could escape endlessly to, and forget the hardships and pains of the cruel reality she lived in? But such thoughts were charred away at the sensation of his lips at her warm throat, sending electric fire flaring through her fragile body. As his lips found hers again, he picked her up and spun her beneath him, pressing his body against her once more. Even in such intimate closeness, Kairi was bothered by any space left between them, and when his well muscled frame shifted even the slightest bit, her own tiny figure shifted in turn to accommodate him. The taste of his lips and breath fell thick on her moist tongue, and the feel of his flesh and thick mane under her fingers felt so wrong. But without a heaving warning, his body tore off of hers in a sudden blur, his lips detaching from those of an angel; such detachment spelled out the word disaster for her delicate composition. A whimper laced over his angel's vocal chords, twirling in the air with gaping displeasure as a furrow of confusion formed between her light eyebrows. His analytical mind catalogued everything before him: the girl lying before him, the quick breaths that husked throughout him, the heat that ate up his chest. "I don't have any condoms."


"Annnnd that's how I fucked up last night," groaned Nero miserably, slamming his head into the palms of his grappling hands. "AHAHAHAHAHA!" Dante's booming laugh rattled throughout the small diner, his huge hands slamming down on the table. "Quit it," Nero hissed beneath his breath, the faintest hue of pink invading his cheeks. "You're blushing a pretty pink, Kid!" Dante hooted with another laughter, a low snarl rumbling within the depths of Nero's throat. "I swear to fucking God, if you don't shut the fuck up I'm going to take this knife and shove it up your ass," Nero growled, Dante leaning back and continuing his vibration of laughters. "You, you shoulda' called me!" Dante cried, grasping his stomach; the pit of his gut was starting to ach from so much laughter. "I coulda' helped you out!" Nero grumbled a few inaudible swears and sunk deeply into the booth, his head smacking against the table in an abrupt fashion. Simmering down, Dante wiped the faint tears from his icy eyes and took a sip of his beer, grinning widely at the boy before him. "What did she say?" he urged, his eyes eager to know of the girl's reaction. At first, Nero's answer came out muffled due to talking into the table. Dante grabbed a menu and smacked the back of Nero's head with it. "Hey!" he barked as he sat up suddenly, rubbing his head. "Whaddya' say? Couldn't hear you as you sulked to the table like a twelve year old confessing to a priest that he had masturbated during the sermon," Dante smirked. A flustered look mauled Nero's features just then, and he sighed. "She was obviously disappointed," he grunted, Dante crossing his arms. "Did you offer the whole pull out method?" Dante asked, baffled. "Well, yeah. But she didn't want to do that. 'Just in case'" Nero covered his face with his hands, and Dante leaned forward. "Kid....you should have checked before you invited her over! You could have gotten laid!" Dante exclaimed, Nero's fingers slowly tugging down his face, as if his razored claws would tear through his granite skin. "Wasn't my intention in the first place, so it never came to mind.... What do I do?" he groaned, placing one hand over his left pocket and shoving his right hand into it, though he came out with no loot. Patting down his trench coat, he grabbed a box of cigarettes from an inside pocket and pulled one out. “I like her a lot,” his alluring voice of tranquility rang out, the sound of inhalation following his words, “—and I refuse to let her go after that innocent mistake." The cigarette bud had bounced betwixt his marbled lips with each word spoken, the grey fumes crawling uniquely into the air of the diner. Nonchalantly blowing out a ghastly cloud of smothering smoke, the white haired figure looked up at his boss with pleading eyes, Dante folding his hands on the table. "Well it's good you're asking me, Kid. I've got immortality, money, and the bitches," he grinned darkly, Nero rolling his eyes at the cocky bastard. "Glad you didn't go to Trever," Dante mentioned afterwards, Nero arching a brow out of confusion. Dante looked at him with a what, you don't know? look, his shoulders shrugging. "He's fucking a seventeen year old," "Oh right right," Nero recalled, nodding his head quickly. "Messed up..." "Well, that man will fuck anything that moves. Typical sexual deviant right there," Dante jabbed his finger in Nero's direction as he took another sip from his beer. Nero paused, his cig burning torpidly. "Does he have any ST—" Dante threw his hands up, cutting Nero off. "No! God knows how he hasn't yet but, the guy is clear.... Anyways. This is what you do, Kid," Dante muttered, pushing a small bread plate towards Nero so that he could flick his cigarette. "You get her whatever flowers she loves, a dozen of 'em! Maybe two dozen if you're willing to waste that much on a girl." Nero's eye twitched; of course Kairi was worth the money. "And then you take her to a dinner and a movie and BAM!" Dante shouted, slamming his palm down on the table; Nero flinched back. "You'll have her ditzy figure in the palm of your hand. Well, I had to get Trish shitfaced first but. Whatever works," he informed in a matter-of-fact tone, crossing his large arms over his broad chest. Taking one last puff of his cigarette, Nero nodded and put it out among the plate, rising from the booth. "Hey, where are 'ya going? Food isn't even here yet!" Dante bantered. Just then the waitress came with both of their orders, and Nero grabbed his breakfast wrap from the plate before she could even set it down. "Now it is. Pay up, old man. Enjoy," he said with that devilish yet charming grin of his, walking off with a single wave. Dante looked over and shook his head, chuckling to himself. "What a brat."

The sun above cried to the darkened cumulus clouds to allow its rays to shine through, though the clouds of black angst and tears refused. "Another gloomy fucking day in the city of Omoi Ame, folks," Nero grunted under his breath, taking a bite of his wrap. With it being broad daylight, it had been a rare occasion for this unknown hellion to walk the streets, his appearance fully exhibited to the naked eye as he lazily yet coolly strolled through the city. He had a very relaxed walk to him, his shoulders dipping from side to side with his heavy steps, head back and his chin slightly tilted as he towered the citizens with simplicity. A look of disinterest tainted his charming face, eyes languidly staring about before him as he took another bite of his wrap. Many by passers stopped to stare at the man with the celestial looks of chastity and pulverizing enchantment, a few girls checking him out as he walked past them. The color of dull cobalt scraped the irises of this morbid being, heavily with the shovel of grueling bothersome as he felt sore stares bore into his exposed back. Just take a picture, jackasses... Taking a sharp turn, the demon turned onto a street full of little shops, his eyes scouting out for a bakery nearby. This was a street that carried all types of shops, some that were pathetic, and held very little business, whilst others were more fortunate. Walking into a small bakery, Nero froze at the sight; it was fucking busy. Many parents ran around inside, trying to please their children as they chimed about which sweets they wished to devour, others rushed to get last minute cakes and what not. Standing behind the glass counter, stood a familiar employee who had striking hair of mint, one who knew Nero's personal orders like the back of her hand. Guess you could say that Nero ordered from here often; their sweets kicked ass. Her back was turned away from everyone, her delicate hands squeezing the icing bag as she drew elegant designs on a red-velvet cake. In beautiful cursive handwriting, the girl had wrote 'Happy 27th Birthday Yushima', a simple request from the parent customer of the birthday gal. Patiently, Nero leaned against the far wall and waited, his eyebrow twitching at all of the kids running around. "Little bastards....everywhere," he brokenly hissed under his breath, staying clear from any of their disgustingly sticky hands and slobbering mouths. So unsanitary... "Oi, Nero!" she huffed in exhaustion, her apron covered in batter and icing. Nero turned to her as she said his name, giving her a slight nod and kicking off of the wall to meet her. "I'm surprised you came here. We usually deliver to your house! What's the occasion?" she asked, putting away a few rolling pins. "Yeah, sorry 'bout that. I see your busy," he commented, looking around. "Yeah. It sucks! What do you need?" she groaned, pulling her hair back into a tighter pony tail. "Uh, I was wondering if I could get a box of twenty chocolate-covered strawberries..." he mumbled lowly, not wanting anyone to hear his request. She arched a green brow. "Twenty? Nero, who's the girl that you're calling fat!?" she scolded, causing him to flinch. "What?" he asked blankly, so confused to what she had meant. "Nero, stick to ten. Twenty will make her feel fat." "Women..." "Youuuuu know it! I'll be back with your box, hold on."


|  |  |

“Sir, how many white roses would you like to purchase?”
“...Two...dozen...?


| End of Day Twenty-Nine |



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| DAY 30 WILL BE UP SOON |
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