01● Trarre ispirazione da disperazione | Open, Gaius

"NO!" Gaius's voice rang out over the Necropolis's dusty streets, echoing about the murky building and filling the vast emptiness that was this realm. Though in all honesty it was far from empty considering it was virtually teeming with demons of various types. Though few if any approached him anymore, they ether feared what he would do to them or... Or what their mistress would have done to them. It was odd, but owing that creature a service may have made his life easier at least for the time being. After all he didn't have to fight for his survival at every corner nor did he need fear that he would be jumped in his sleep. It took so much stress from his shoulders and he hated it.

He could feel him self growing softer by the moment because he KNEW that none would attack him for no better reason then that they could and that it was in their nature. He wanted to fight. He wanted to battle. He wanted to kill and be killed. He wanted to live in the way he knew how, he wanted to FEEL. But no even that was taken from him by his current and cruel mistress... Master... What ever.

The echo faded and he turned his attention back to the world about him and the deep crimson that had painted the walls of his prison oh so suddenly. It was cruel fate that he should be bound here by words that had been forced from his mouth, but spoke them he had and it was in fact no ones fault but his own. His feet carried him through the streets of the place that was his current home and he had to wonder if he would die here among the creatures of blood and pain that made this place their residence. It would be an ignoble fate for sure but was it one he deserved?

After all he had been a fool and had let him self fall into an obvious trap for no better reason then that he hadn't been paying attention. Their had been signs after all, signs that he would have seen if he had not been so sure of himself. With a sigh he trudged on his feet carrying him randomly about the land he would come to know well in the passing weeks. His sandal shod feet clacked loudly on the cobble stone streets, louder then by any right they should have proclaiming his approach to any that cared to listen.

Standing over six feet tall and covered in deep red tattoos of unknown meaning that Roman made an intimidating sight even if he was mostly unclothed aside from his dark warriors skirt and rough leather shoulder pads. Most lesser beasts would not have approached him even with out the 'protection' of Mammon. He turned a corner and saw a figure he did not know. A figure he had never seen before, a figure that he felt certain was not some sort of lesser mindless demon. Would he... It run from him as the others did? Or would he stand his ground like none had done in far too long.

"Hail! Who moves there?" Simple words from a simple man, though he had to wonder if he would need to fight soon. He stood ready for that eventuality.

This man was dressed... Like a ponce. There was no other word for it and if their was well it was not needed in the slightest. Ponce was just to apt a description , though he would admit to him self and only him self that he was a tad envious of that majestic hat the man wore. It was just so... Daring and he couldn't help but admire it, though he felt that the rest of the ensemble was more then slightly ridiculous. He stopped in his tracks then, his words seeming to sit heavy in the air as the man in front of his seemed to appraise him.

“I don’t divulge such information to strangers… but I’ll be glad to take your name, good sir.” His eyes narrowed and with a shrug he crossed his arms watching as the man placed his hand on the gun at his hip.That if nothing else warranted him taking a more guarded stance. "Name? Well if you're too high and mighty to share yours then i don't think i can share mine on base principle."

If the man made a threatening move he was ready to shift, ready to fight and kill if necessary though he hoped it was not. After all all he wanted from this was a few words with someone who wouldn't just... Run. But he was in a world filled with demons and demons where not best known for holding polite conversations. That was mostly the domain of man, though their where a select few of his kind that could and often wanted to converse... If only over a meal.

It was said that you should never judge a book by its cover, that whats outside is often not often a reflection of what could be inside. That may have been true, but people and more importantly demons where not books in any way shape for form. Gaius had found that judging one based on their outside appearance was often a prudent thing to do in hell, for if they looked like a blood thirsty savage they more than likely where a blood thirsty savage. After all how pretty could someones spirit be if they where covered in the gore and blood of an uncounted number of people? But in times like this, it was often harder to tell... Because this demon(He could smell the stench of the pit on him) was dressed like someone who was more fool then warrior.

But that he knew may have been the reason behind this unknown mans foppish attire, to throw would be enemies off their game right before the final confrontation. It was half the reason he was dressed the way he was currently, so that they would see what appeared to be a half naked man with little or nothing to defend him self with. In fact it had caused some to under estimate him and for that reason alone he had been able to walk away with his life.

His ashen skin was shown in ghostly continence as the rays of the sun continued to play over him, causing the dark red of his tattoos, his sins made manifest to show in all their ghastly detail. Each line of color representing a different facet of his unrighteousness, each a marker of his shame and humiliation. But like many before him, he wore his marks with pride knowing to do anything less would be to dishonor not only his name but those of his long dead family. his eyes watched as the man clenched his fist over the handle of his weapon, a fire arm of rather unique design or so it seemed from where he was standing. To most, it would have made them uneasy, nervousness would have overcome them but not Gaius. For he had faced weapons far more potent then that and lived.

“Tell me, good sir. Does this make you uneasy?”

A faint smile came to his lips at those words, and his eyes lite with what could only be an odd sort of humor.

“Does me showing you this make you anxious?”

With that he threw back his head and let out a guttural is jolly laugh. This man... This demon thought to intimidate him... HIM of all people with a show of arms! It was the next best thing to ludicrous. "Hahahahaha oh no not in the slightest! " His voice held a mix of humor and disdain. "But if it would make you feel better I'm sure that I could find something that would intimidate... Children perhaps?" His tone and demeanor changed in less time then it took to blink.

"My name is D'Angelo Courtese. Now your name, good sir?"

"Well Sir D'Angelo... Since you have been kind enough to show me yours I think ill show you mine."

With those words the change over took him, and where one minute had stood something that could have passed for a man was now something that could only be a demon in a some what human form. This transformation was not flashy in the slightest. There was no build up, no flash of light, no swirling clouds or claps of thunder. No his lacked all the theatrics that some of his brethren seemed to prefer and was all the more horrifying for that. It was just sudden, one moment he was there and the next there was a being that represented the military power of the roman legion. Standing well over his original height wearing the armor that marked him as a centurion in the legion and carrying a sword and shield of both of which where sized to him, Gaius was an imposing figure. The fiery pits that where his eyes turned back to D'Angelo and with a voice that sounded like the crackling of flame he spoke.

"I Am Gaius Octavian Skipio, and I am at your..." His grey cracked lips stretched into a smile his mouth opening slightly and his teeth becoming illuminated from the fire that burned with in him. "Service."