. see the despair behind their eyes . turtle

Kyland Ross

In the back of his mind, Kyland was faintly aware that he wasn't in control of his own body. No matter how many times his happened, there was no getting used to it. As a young child, he hadn't had the cognitive ability to recognize what was happening, but now that he did, he almost wished he couldn't. It would always be indescribably strange to have another entity piloting your body, especially one that was a demonic parasite. Even so, he long ago given up trying to control Alastor when he gained control. The demon would do what he wanted, when he wanted, and there was no stopping him. He couldn't even reliably discern what the demon was going to do, so it was basically like watching a movie unfold though the eyes of the main character. He was a passenger in his own vehicle. 

Somehow, he had ended up in town, and he had no idea why he was here. Alastor? Anything? he asked exasperatedly. There was no response, only a satisfied and yet sinister humming. He felt anger rise up and flood his veins, but he couldn't do anything about it. It was too bad he couldn't tear our the demon's spirit with his hands. Truly, a tragedy. Maybe it was this whole demonic possession situation that had made him into such a bitter person. 

Well, there was no undoing that now. Ky felt the brand on the back of his shoulder tingle, and wondered how he had ended up with such an unfortunate fate.

He watched as Alastor directed his body into the general store. He headed straight for the back, chin up, in a more confident pose than normal. He could feel the slight smirk on his lips, an unusual expression for Alastor. The demon was up to nothing good, he knew that for sure, but at least he wasn't destroying anything yet. It was a start. Perhaps all the demon needed was a few rehab sessions--"Alastors Anonymous"?

Ky groaned when Alastor snatched up a can of hot pink spray paint. The glass ball rattled around inside the metal can. He was surprised when they actually went up to pay for the paint, instead of just running. He surmised that it was only because it wouldn't do be to stopped before the mischief had even started. Luckily, he had his ID on him, and he was old enough to legally purchase spray paint, which meant that the only suspicious thing about the whole situation was the color of the paint.

Now, they were trekking to the edge of town, where there was a church. He could feel a shudder of revulsion roll through him, though as a human he had never had any strong opinions on religion aside from that it wasn't for him. How could a demon-possessed person hope for any aid from a god? He knew the disgust was Alastor's reaction to being so close to a so-called "house of God".  

There was no one around, which was all the better. Maybe he could escape the blame for Alastor's actions this time. He knew his eyes were glowing a bright ruby red, so maybe that would work in his favor when convincing passerby that he hadn't been in control. 

He uncapped the can and tossed the lid to the side. He wouldn't be needing that anymore. His hand shook the can slowly and decisively. Forcefully. He aimed the nozzle at the white walls of the building and pressed down.

Bright pink liquid exploded onto the walls in stark contrast. Even the color itself was almost obscene, tainting the purity of the whiteness. He painted pentacles and every other demonic symbol in his--well, Alastor's--memory, and even a fairly impressive portrait of Satan. There were words written in a language he couldn't understand, but he could feel the demonic aura radiating off it, and could feel Alastor growing stronger and stronger. HE IS COMING FOR YOU. YOU ARE NEXT, read the walls. 

Character Bio | 672 words | Turtlus

    It was times like this that they were the most at peace. Sitting alone on a pew in the church, Ahoth bowed his head and silently meditated, the one time neither of them had to constantly obsess over shepherding lost souls towards a path of peace. Normally such purpose would task beings such as them very little, but this current state left Ahoth especially feeling mentally taxed. Iscah fared better in that regard due to inheriting most of the energy while leaving the thinking to Ahoth, though she too would grow weary on days where prayer was simply not an option.  Sadly yesterday had been one of those days and thus for the last 3 hours or so the two had remained in the church doing little more than sitting thoughtfully. 

    However Ahoth's meditation had become increasingly troubled. In between the reciting of holy textures he would feel a malicious presence grow increasingly more intense. It took only a moment for him to put together that that meant th source of those unpleasant thoughts was also getting closer. While they had know that this island was home to dark beings something approaching them directly nonetheless caught Ahoth off-guard. With haste he moved towards the closest window and peered out, just in time to see a lone figure approaching. A lone figure holding what appeared to be a can of spray paint. A lone figure that he realized they had been warned about.  

    With a small smile he began walking toward the door with intent to verbally disarm what was undoubtedly his spiritual opposite of the desire to deface his home and house of worship. Iscah at this point has materialized directly behind him, still trying to put together what their physical component was up to. "You said we would be taking five hours to regain our bearings, what is the issue?" the spirit questioned in annoyance. Gliding around his side and blocking the door, she then lowered herself so that she was looking Ahoth dead in the face. "Worry marks you, explain the issue." There would be no leaving till Ahoth explained himself to his spiritual half. 

    "Alright, alright. I'll tell you, but only on the condition that you keep your cool. We don't want a repeat of what happened with the boat." They had somehow managed to sink one of the local sailor's ships while playing a friendly game of cards with him and the friendly mechanical janitor from the Academy, the only reason Ahoth and Iscah had even managed to get over their guilt was the fact that the sailor had the ability to create another one out of thin air. It was not entirely unjustified seeing as there had been a demonically possessed bilgerat aboard the ship, but it had still been an unfortunate event that only emphasized how  overzealous Iscah could be at times. 

    It took a moment but the glowing guardian gave her nod of agreement. Ahoth could only grin with pride as his other half momentarily put aside her holy fervor, knowing that she would not go against her word. "The issue at hand is that a boy, the one housing the demon Alastor, is outside," he explained, noting the clenching of the spirit's fists at the word 'demon'. "And the demon appears to be the driving force behind their shared body at the moment. I took only a glance but it would seem he intended to vandalize this very building. We are going to confront him WITHOUT purposely provoking a violent reaction. We gave our word and the boy's spirit still remains within the body."

    Without responding Iscah returned to an immaterial state, allowing Ahoth to exit the building. By the time he had slipped out the door and rounded the corner however he realized that it was too late to save his home from the demon's malicious defacing. Icons of sins and avatars of torment decorated the once beautiful surface,  and in large letters a threat that 'he was coming for them' had been spelled out on the wall. It did not take a spiritual link to know that Iscah was silently fuming with rage wherever she was floating about. Ahoth simply put a beaming smile on his (gorgeous!) face and walked over to the boy. "While I am a bit saddened that you felt the need to use this holy temple as an art canvas, I will admit you certainty got a knack for art. Is there anything you needed other than delivering empty threats?" the mortal angel questioned good-naturally. 

Kyland Ross

Alastor admired his work, grinning in a disturbingly sadistic way. This was the perfect way to wreak some havoc. This town was too quiet, anyway. It needed the help of a demon. 

However, he had not expected anyone to be inside the church--after all, it wasn't Sunday, and churches tended to be rather unoccupied on days when there were no services. Upon first glance, the guy seemed to be fairly normal, but Alastor's reaction told otherwise. Ky's presence was suddenly shoved into the deep, dark, recesses of his mind. Well. This was fairly alarming. Nothing like this had ever happened before.

Though Kyland didn't understand what was happening, Alastor had immediately recognized the angelic, otherworldly beauty of this man. His body convulsed, and his eyes glowed bright, bright red, the color of hellfire, reflecting the pain of sinners as they burnt to their deaths in the inferno. The brand on his shoulder turned the same color and sizzled audibly. Faint wisps of smoke appeared, and internally, Kyland was curled up in pain. It felt like the flesh of his shoulder was being roasted off. He felt like a pig at a barbecue. 

His body flickered, switching between corporeal and non-corporeal. Kyland didn't know how this man could be so seemingly gentle and pure and yet cause him so much pain. Alastor's rage was so strong he could feel it swallowing him, like a hurricane of fury. A snarl erupted from his mouth, completely inhuman. It didn't even resemble any earthly animal; a casual passerby would have been able to feel deep in their bones that this was a noise straight from Hell.

"The world is full of sinners. Your devoted followers are all sinners, and they will burn for their actions," Alastor growled. "My words are not threats. They are the simple truth."

Character Bio | 308 words

    Ahoth could only smile softly at the demon's words. He was not exactly sure if Alastor truly believe such an absurd notion or was just trying to get under his skin, but all it did was increase Ahoth's pity for the creature. "The world has always been full of sinners. Humans are sinners by nature, always have been. Your problem is that you confuse sinning with damning themselves. A sinner can be redeemed and insure that they live eternally in the kingdom of His Gracefulness, while something truly corrupted like yourself has already sealed your ultimate fate when the time of judgment is at hand" Ahoth's voiced contained absolutely zero animosity as he argued with the demon.

    The incredibly unnatural noise that Alastor had managed to conjure up increased the already boiling amount of zealous rage the incorporeal Iscah was channeling at the moment. After Ahoth finished talking the shining spirit appeared just to his left in a flash of light, one arm already outstretched and finger pointed at the demon accusingly. "AND THAT TIME DRAWS NEAR FOR YOU, SCUM. THE MOMENT YOU ARE NO LONGER UNDER FORESTA'S AUTHORITY I WILL PURGE YOU FROM THIS WORLD WITH PURIFYING LIGHT!" Iscah's booming voice was accompanied by her glowing wings spreading out like that of a falcon swooping down on its prey. Ahoth was evidently not amused by this hammy display, though to be fair at least his spiritual half was only threatening to destroy the demon. "Calm down Iscah, we are not to do anything hasty until we can safely extract the demon," he said with exasperation. He should not have to be explaining this for the twentieth time.