#mikroteros

Coward indeed.

                    “…….”

" wow ─── no really, your concept is amazing. you put a lot of thought into this, huh? " blissfully unaware, as always, despite what was so obviously right in front of him. but dae-ho would never have any reason to suspect that the woman before him would be anything other than human, it never even crossed his mind.

fairytales, magical stories ─── that's where things like this were real, but certainly not here! ha! how funny would that be, right? angels and demons? harpies and mermaids ─── all of them, real this entire time. dae-ho couldn't even begin to imagine such a thing.

he laughs to himself, because sure - like that would ever be a thing.

" how long did the whole costume take to make? did you make it yourself? man, that must've taken forever! "

@mikroteros said: ❛  hey, ah ... thank you ... for being my friend.  ❜

' you say that like i'm supposed to find it difficult. '

sure, she was what most would consider a monster, what most would hate. but zoey didn't see her that way. she was otherworldly and beautiful in that way. there was something so enchanting about the harpy woman that the idol couldn't help but want to get to know her. and it had been easy. once you got to know her, it was clear that she was simply seeking companionship, simply seeking some way of connecting to those around her.

reaching out, she grabs hold of the woman's hands, not bothered by the scales she finds as a smile spreads across her face.

she sits, perched upon the rooftop in what he can only assume to be idle contemplation. it was clear from nothing more than a simple glance that she wasn't human ; and there was a power within her that he couldn't deny. strange, he thinks, that he'd only now come upon something as unique as she.

For all the advantages his kind has hidden up their sleeve, they aren't impervious. Holiness aside, a blade is still very much a blade that can pierce and skewer. Hiromi knows this well, yet was still felled by one. Though, perhaps it's more accurate to say he'd been more so inconvenienced. Most of his limbs still work. Senses are still intact ... wings still move well enough, despite the immeasurable pain that lances through each flex of muscle.

He looks a right mess when stumbling closer. A long, sloping horn's chipped. Tail noticeably mangled near the end. The pale expanse of his face bores a single diagonal gash from pinched brow to taut cheek. Dark matter smears onto any surface his bloodied hand passes over. The sheer weight of his wings — once opulent in its stained glass vibrancy, now dulled and cracked through — audibly drag behind each labored step.

What a ruined picture he makes.

Humans never could tell when they were in the sights of a monster like him, not until he was upon them, but Jin found that beings of the supernatural variety-- or beings otherwise attuned to the supernatural-- did often discern early on that something wasn't quite right.

Not that it mattered much now.

Because standing there tonight at the threshold to Celeste's home was Jin, his crimson eyes trained on her while his coat flowed in the wind, a wind that, like him, curiously avoided entering the abode.

"They say you're an Oracle," Jin starts off, his voice smooth and his lips creased into a wide, charming smile, though one that, to someone more observant, might not seem to reach his eyes, "is that true, frau harpyie, is the future laid out before your eyes, does it dance across your tongue?"

Jin leans forward somewhat, his piercing gaze locking with Celeste's, but still he stops at the threshold to her home, not crossing it, not yet.