Verkur is washing. Because it just isn't a very good feeling to walk around covered in someone elses blood all evening. In fact, it's quite disgusting, and while Verkur wouldn't mind terribly (as he likes the smell, feel, and taste of blood) I find it an absolutly gross picture so I'm makeing him take a bath.

Anyways.

It happens that the demon had finished eating not to long ago, and in a few days, another name will be added to the missing persons list. Verkur had abandoned what little was left of the corpse to fly to the river and strip down. He was now a little more then waist deep in the water, standing of course, and is currently picking flesh from beneath his long claws, using his other claws to do so.

His hair is flowing into the water, nearly knee length as it is now, and tugs away from his face, showing pointed ears and a sharp jawline that isn't usually seen. He's beautiful, like a perfectly carved marble statue. A 'gothic beauty' as Alice called him. His wings are standing open on his back, creating an unreal scene where he stands, the water, the moonlight, the pale light makes his gray skin appear white like his eyes. His body looks thin, tall, and completly built. Every bit of him covered in some fine solid muscle. And why not? Every time he moves those wings you can see every muscle shift somehow. He even uses his legs, his toes even, to control those powerful things.

His pants and shirt are folded neatly at the bank, far from where they'll get wet, and he's still picking at his claws, though I doubt one could move or make a single sound without him noticeing. He's aware of everything right now.

Ew, blood. Good thing he is taking a bath, some people don't find blood on people attractive.

Like Jibril for instance. This softie happens to be wandering around this area, lost because he got disoriented a while back becuase of some fairies. They had fun with the poor dear, even had stolen his wife beater so he was now condemed to walking around the forest shirtless. He had his socks (shoes got stolen), boxers, and his heavy, strap covered pants. His pants looked like they were about to fall off, held up only by a thick belt with a large buckle. His boxers were slightly visible, bright yellow even brighter seeming against the black pants.

He looked slightly forlorn, black feathered wings dragging slightly behind him. He too was a pretty sight, maybe not as dark or intimidating as the demon, but still lovely. He had let his hair go natural again, pale blonde looking silvery under the moolight, curls framing his pale face perfectly. He had gotten a bit more sleep as of late, his black circles around his eyes behing not as dark as they usually are. Lip ring, nose stud, all his piercings were in, luckilly none of the jewelry had been taken. Except his watch.

Fae can be most annoying. But he didn't have the ability to get mad at them, that was their nature, wasn't it? To make mistcheif. Still, it could be very bothersome sometime. A small sigh from the other as he made through a clearing. How troublesome. Then he heard a noise. This ancient being happens to have amazing hearing and for the first time in a while, he stopped. The rustling of his pants agains the ground ceased and he looked up slowly.

There in the river was someone. Soft green eyes, shining like glow sticks in the dark looked over what was obviously a very beautiful demon. Oh my. Jibby's stomach plummeted. Why? Not becuase of the demon, not becuase he was naked, but that /smell/. That horibble smell of blood. His wings curved forward slightly, going onto either side of him. Oh goodness. The demon was amazing to look at but the smell was horrible.

Talk about mixed emotions. He had half the mind to flap his wings and fly off. But he didn't, no, he just stood there, lovely face blank and eyes wide. Talk about silent as the night.

The smell is going away, with the water, but the scent of something old, musky, something decaying but now decaying, that smell would never leave. It's terrible and wonderful, that smell. Verkur likes it. But then, he happens to like eating human flesh too. So who can really say if the scent is good or not?

But he'd heard the rustling pants, and then he'd heard nothing. Meaning whoever was out there moving about had just stopped moving, which probably meant that they had spotted the demon. Not that he cared much. If it was human, they'd simply go home and think they were crazy, or if Verkur decided, they'd die. But this wasn't human, the smell didn't even resemble human. He turned to cast his eyes to around and found the other glowing eyes.

His own eyes glowed softly in the moonlight, pale and white light. It seems after nearly three thousand years of collecting and playing with humans, Verkur's begining to loose interest in them. He's begining to like things with wings. First that pretty angel Alice, and then the demon, Lucian, now this lovely creature. He let his wings stretch back, straight back, and ran his eyes up and down the other.

"And what have we here?" His voice is just not right. It belongs to a different language, world, a different relm entirly. It's just not human. It's not even demon really. It's raspy and nice, soothing, and cold.

The hairs on the back of Jibril's neck stood up when the other looked over him and then spoke. Oh my. No one has been able to do that in, well, forever. His eyes flashed and then he changed. Not changed as in attitude, but the air around him and the way he walked slightly sideways as he observed the other. What was this creature? and that smell. the smell of decaying flesh, but it wasn't what Jibril was sued to smelling, this was different. It made him light headed but yet even he walked forward. that was it, in the way he changed, he was more like a cat, slender and observant. If he had cat ears, they would probably be up in curiousity. But one wrong move could make them go back and he'll hiss.

Whether the question was meant to be answered or not, Jibril wasn't sure but he remained quiet for the moment. He was far too old to go blabbering off to the creature but he was still young so he had plenty of curiousty, hence the reason why he is walking closing to the demon. He is an awfully curious thing. He was now at the water's edge too.

Verkur would probably figure by now what this lovely creature was. His scent was similar to Alice's, but far more older, so much odler in fact, that Alice almsot seems like a newborn compared to Jibril. If it was possible to still have the scents of your past on you, there would be the smell of blood too, and death, but Jibril hasn't associated himself with those things in almost a millenia. His pale face looked up and down the other before his own eyes focused on the other's eery eyes. His skin prickled. How interesting. He was almost hypnotized.

"I..." A rather deep voice, rather hoarse from lack of use but pleasant in it's own way. "...could ask the same thing..."

What was left unsaid was the 'But you probably wouldn't reply'.

Verkur watched the angel walk closer with guarded white eyes. He knew what this other was, the question had been said out loud on purpose, but it had been rhetorical. He knew, by smell, by sight, by the very feel of the other what he was. He also knew by feeling, by instinct that he was older by far then this one, but that he’d been on earth much less time then this other had been alive. Maybe that can be said as equaling out the game between them. He was older then the angel, but the angel had been on this earth longer. And it made the demon guarded, yet he relaxed further. Cocky.
.
Curiosity was fine. In fact, it was fun. It was fun to make a human curious, lure them in, slowly let them die. And it was fun to make an angel curious, lure them in, and try to keep them. *coughalicecough* Verkur didn’t move back nor advance, as one might expect from him is they knew this demon, but he merely stood there in the water, waist deep and completely comfortable in his nudity.

If Jibril spends more then a moment in Verkur’s presence, then he’s once again associating himself with these things of blood and death, though not directly. It is what Verkur lives for, everything he was created for, to spill blood and cause chaos and disorder in every way he can find. Bayfield just had the misfortune to attract Verkur’s attention enough that he’s decided to remain for a century.

It isn’t surprising that those eyes had drawn Jibril’s attention to a state of near being hypnotized. Almost any being can be drawn to them, interested in them. They glow fiercely, scream danger, convince that they’re trustworthy. Completely inhuman. And if his eyes can draw a being to look, to become intrigued, then it comes as no surprise that someone who could appriciate them for what they were, like Jirbil might, would become enthralled in them.

I could ask the same thing.

“And I would answer that I am a Babeal demon, The Demon of Chaos.”

Maybe Jibril would and maybe he would not realize that in legend, the Babeal Demon sat to the left hand of the Devil’s throne or that in another legend, the Babeal guarded the gate of hell. Or perhaps Jibril would know that in another legend, a great wizard summoned a Babeal demon to help him in a battle. That wizard had won that battle, then the demon had killed him too, for summoning him.

Jibril happened to know about this old demon, somewhere back in the subconscious of his mind. He doesn't remember that he had actually caught a glimpse of this creature before, seeing as around the same time he had left India and went to explore the West. Europe, parts of Russia, and Africa. He was not fond of Europe, too dirty unlike his beautiful Arabia. The only reason Jibril had been there, was because of all the wars that were happening, and he has always been attracted to wars. Watching them, as he had done since before the Greeks. It was one of the ways how he learned about humans. But he does not remember catching a glimpse of this magnificent creature, it is rather unlikely that Verkur had ever seen Jibril before, but it isn't impossible. But he had been killing and so he was probably busy enjoying that than paying attention to other things. From the back of his mind though, Jibril is told he knows what the creature is, and in reply to the other's comment, he nods.

"And as you know...I am simply an angel."

A simple, old and tired angel. He says it as he feels, nothing interesting about him. He hasn't had a joint in almost 12 hours. He is a quiet thing, unlike may others Verkur knows, he almost has this 'do not speak unless you are spoken to' thing going on. He was now standing partly in the water, so that it came up to his ankles. He was studying the other. But he was still drawn towards the eyes. They were beautiful and the look in them still made his skin prickle. It had been a while since this angel had seen such a captivating creatures. After a while, unless they make a large impression on him, humans begin to look this same. This creature is nothing like a human, and hardly a thing like the demons he was used to seeing. He was feeling the other's emotions and energy from here. What an old being. that fact alone made Jibril guarded.

He almost didn't realize that he had started to walk again until the water reached about mid thigh. And once again he stopped. These pants were heavy with water, and that fact was obvious, seeing that they were being pulled down by the weight. The only reason they didn't get pulled off was that belt. Jibril wasn't fully hypnotized by the other, but his will is rather weak right now and he is so close to falling under the spell. He probably didn't even realized that.

There had been a wind blowing, and Jibril, being sensitive to cold, shivered. It didn't help that he was in water, but the other one seemed completely unaffected. He'd realize ina little why. That's the difference between them, one is like in a frozen state, not alive, but not dead, and this one is completely alive and more vurnerable. His blueish lips state that. His eyes are once again looking into the other's. One might think he is weak, because of the soft look in his eyes. But then again, they are too busy looking to look past that, at all of other emotions and fire that he possesses.

But you have to look.

Two creatures that can live for forever, or for at least a very long time. It’s very likely they’ve crossed paths somewhere before, not doubtful that something Verkur started might be something Jibril had been interested in watching. Not a war, that was his God’s territory and Verkur would have never attempted to tread on San’s turf but Verkur caused much chaos at one point, starting famines and mobs and tortures, long before his code had been set in place and his attempts were limited, least he get the punishment of that which he was trying to deal out. It’s unlikely that they’d seen each other, both being such busy creatures, but it is so very possible that they had, at one point, admired each other’s handiwork or just missed the other in their travels. Verkur’s preferences lay with the Africans and the French and English. The French and English because they were so terribly gullible. The Africans because they truly believed in him and his torment and chaos. They’d even given him name and worship and fear.

“Just an angel?” His hissing voice lowered as the angel came closer. “You are the eldest angel that I have met yet.”

The demon was hardly like what Jibril thought of other demons because, well, he isn’t like the earthly sort of demon. He hadn’t even technically come from this universe, or the neighboring one. He’d come from a realm. And it was rare that a demon from so far from reach be summoned and able to make, let alone survive, the journey. Two reasons, the demon isn’t strong enough and it dies and doesn’t finish the trip. Or the mage doing the summoning is too weak and unable to completely bring the demon through the dimensions. It took a strong demon and a strong mage to get Verkur here. And he’d killed that Mage.

Verkur watched the angel walking, nearly hypnotized, into the water towards him. Mid-thigh deep he finally stopped. He watched when the other shivered through the slightest breeze sifting over them, stirring the hair that was still dry on him. That it didn’t bother Verkur shouldn’t surprise anyone, he simply stood, watching this other. This old, amazing creature before him, moving towards him as if he was so magnetic force. And the more the angel moved, the closer Verkur watched every muscle twitch or shift. The closer the angel got, the more the demon wanted to reach out and touch him.

When the angel stopped again, Verkur moved. While Jibril moved in a fashion that resembled that curious cat, Verkur just glided carefully over the wet stones in the water, his wings and hair in the water behind him. Because of those wings, muscle that weren’t needed to just walk moved and rippled. Muscles in every portion seeable to the eye moved and shifted just slightly.

When he brings himself to a stop, he’s moved to close most of the distance between them and stands with the water at his hips, revealing more then should properly be shown but hiding much still in the water. He is seven inches taller then the angel, and the water becomes progressively deeper, so where he stands, the height of the water, puts him nearly four feet, maybe a little less, away from the angel.

“What can I call you?”

Jibril blinked, as if almost taken back. He cocked his head. Age didn't matter to Jibril anymore, you don't care after you have lived for so long. It's the same with time. He sighed and slowly shook his head.

"That matters not. But if you insist, then..." A shrug. "I will not contradict you..."

He did not know how old he was though.

He eyed the other carefully. At first the other's stare made his skin prickle, now it simply made him heat up, like a blush but not really. Like that feeling when you feel a intense stare on you and that spot heats up. It was almost tickling him. He graced the other with a soft smile, a pleasant expression on his pretty face. He looked relaxed, while he was very much on alert, he did not care. Wounds will heal after all. At least his physical ones.

His eyes moved down to the water's surface when the other moved, watching the ripples with fascination. In all that he can remember, the only things that continued to amaze or amuse him was water and the night. He loved the rain, clouds, the stars, and the moon. Beautiful things. While there was a side that loved crazy, shiny things, the calmer side that appreciated nature loved the soft, gentle beauty of the night.

He looked back up at the other,moving forward until he was in arm's reach, hands raising as he slowly ran them down the other's chest, brushing off water droplets. He wasn't paying attention to his movements, only the other's. his hands then moved on to brush curls out of his face. His scars were visible now, four on his right cheek, the top one directly under his eye and the bottom one almost on the corner of his blueish pink mouth. Goodness knows how he got them, in a fight when he was young. His eyes were half-closed, making them seem out of focus, but he wasn't. He was very much alert.

His eyes opened slightly though, lighting up once again at the question. What may the demon call him? Well, his tattoo was on his wrist, the one with his name, though Logan's name was there too, on his other wrist. His smile did not fade. Might as well give him his current name.

"Jibril."

Complete, proper Arabic pronounciation. Mrawr.

I will not contradict you..

That, right there, told Verkur one of two things. Either this angel just didn't give a shit about anything anymore or he was utterly weak willed and submissive to the maximum. He wasn't going to even try to guess which, he didn't have to try. His answer came when the other moved forward again and brought his hands up to brush the water dropletts off of his toned chest. That's a bold move, Angel. Not many people get to touch the demon unless he touches you first. And even then it's rare that you'll be allowed to touch him back.

Jibby, your fortunate enough to touch him and be able to withdraw your arm with it still attatched to the shoulder. Or maybe it's Verkur who is fortunate. They're both strong, but there is no telling who would win in an all out fight. Verkur has claws...but he doesn't know what the other has.

Maybe Jibril notices his gray flesh is cold, maybe (if Jibril is sensitive enough in feeling) he'll feel that Verkur's chest doesn't thump with the beat of a heart. Or if he looks closely enough, now that he stands so close, he might notice the demon had no pulse in his neck, no rise and fall of his chest that would mean he was breathing.

When the hand withdraws to brush back curls, the demon raises his own hand to touch the curls. Jibril was old, he could feel it. How old was he? How much had he seen? His claws touch the scars on the angels cheek, lay across them, drop away slowly without ever knicking flesh.

He says nothing. It's not often, in fact it's very very very....ok it's only happened once in his whole life on this earth, that the demon stands in any form of awe. The first time was in the pressance of his God, Gunner, War, Violence. This would be the second.

While Jibril could be weak willed and submissive, he was not at this time. No, it would not be very impressive now would it? And really, Jibril didn't not think of himself as very bold. Just curious. In many ways he was like a kitten. Curious. When the other had touched his face, he had brushed his face more so against the cool fingers and claws of the other. It wouldn't have mattered if the other had knicked him, the wound would close instantly.

He looked at the other, obviously curious, and then stepped up even closer, so that only a few inches were inbetween their bodies. The other was quiet, but he reckognized the look in the other's eyes. It was a look that the others who recognized him for what he is gave him. He titled his head up, lips parted slightly. He had never found what was so amazing about him that people went quiet and stared, it made him feel uncomfortable actually.

And he had felt the other's cold skin, colder than the water perhaps and felt that there was no heartbeat. It did not breath either, but it had obviously eaten a human most likely. Why would something that isn't alive, but obviosuly not really dead, need to eat? How very curious. He almost leaned forward as he examined the other.

He shook his head, smile brightening slightly.

"And...dear Babeal...Demon of Chaos, what is the name I shall call you?"

His voice was almost like a whisper, they were so close there was no need to speak loudly. At this low volume his voice sounded like small bells, rather low but rather pleasant to listen to.

The other was quiet, but he reckognized the look in the other's eyes. It was a look that the others who recognized him for what he is gave him.

It wasn't the same look. Other's are in awe by his age or by his arua. Verkur is in awe because, in the same way that Jibril can truely appriciate eyes like Verkurs, Verkur can truely appriceate the age of Jibril, the power he could feel coming off of the angel. That, he could appriciate.

Why does Verkur eat? He doesn't have to. But it's in his nature to do so. He can't help it really. He strives for a kill, lives for disorder and it's in his instincts to kill and to feed. It's the only reason he does it.

When the Angel smiled, Verkur didn't. When Jibril rubbed his face against Verkur's hands and claws, Verkur didn't mind. He didn't try not to cut Jibril so he wouldn't be cut. He knows enough about angels to know that Jibril would heal almost instantly. He didn't cut him in order to demonstrate that, with those razor claws that could cut just by touch, he didn't knick the skin at all. How much control, how used to them, that he is.

"Vyncrya Verkur."

His hand turned over and touched the other cheek of the angel. Warm on cold.

That is true. Jibril can tell the difference, the others seemed in awe of what he was. This one struck him as almost more respectful than the gaping, wide eyed stares of most humans. Jibril hated that. He didn't like being oggled, it made him feel uncomfortable, as if was on display. The other gave his name and Jibril raised his head. Now even he was sure he had heard of him. He had read it somewhere, a while back, probably in some book on summoning or some sort. Bah, they were all the same to him. Humans. they never seemed to truly understand creatures like Jibril and Verkur, or many other creatures. Their minds just aren't the same.

"Vyncrya Verkur..."

It was like he was testing out a sweet roll or some sort of food, careful, feeling the texture and how easy it goes over the tongue. He still had that habit of rolling his r's, so you'll have to forgive him. Jibril relaxed his face slightly into the hand of the other, his skin was warm compared to Verkur's, but he was still slightly cold. His eyes continued to look over the other.

This creature was probably one of the most interesting he had ever seen.

He raised his own hand, hardly grabbing the other's with it. His hands were smaller than Verkur's but it didn't realy matter. He pulled the hand down his face, hopefully the other would not try to stop him. He kept moving the hand down until it reached his collar bone. Then he stopped and took the hand in both of his, studying it before letting it go. Verkur can do whatever he pleases with it now. He just wanted to study the claws, after all, it isn't everday you find a demon with granite claws. Curious.

He looked up at Verkur through his eyelashes, not in any sort of way. He cocked his head.

"You are a very curious creature..."

Curious again. Verkur should know that curious in this sentence did not mean, that Verkur was curious in the investigating way, but rather an interesting way to Jibril. And really, he was fascinating.

It wouldn’t surprise me that Jibril recalled Verkur’s name associated with a summoning of sorts. He’s first of all in a summoning book, thought its cautioned that calling him at all in the first place may not be a good idea and second of all he’s in a few ‘legend’ history stories and it is how he got here in the first place. He was summoned from his world to this one.

Tasting the name? It’s doubtful Jibril will say it right, especially if he still rolls the r’s in his words. No one on this planet except the gods could really say his name right, because no one had the dialect needed to say it, no one had the right voice, the rasp, the sharpness. But it didn’t matter. If no one could say it, there was little reason to correct it.

This creature was probably one of the most interesting he had ever seen.

The feeling is mutual Jibby.

He let Jibril touch his hand, move his hand over his face and neck to his collar bone and hold it out and examine it. The leather wings are common on demons, even claws are common on demons, but not granite stone. When Jibril let go of his hand, he left it where it was a moment, then tapped his claws together one at a time, then settled his hand back onto the angels shoulder, then his chest, feel the beating heart, like all of his other beings, his humans, his angel and his demon. But this heart was older then Alice and Lucian. It made them look like infants.

”So I’ve been told.”

His hand moved back over the other’s shoulder, stepping forward until their bodies almost touched. Verkur’s not covered anymore, but somehow I’m sure it doesn’t matter. His hand went over Jibril’s back and stopped where the wings connected to the body.

“May I?”

Feel special Jibril, feel honored. Verkur never asks permission to do anything. But he dislikes his wings being touched.

What is a surprise is the fact that Jibril's heart hasn't stopped yet. So much strain he's put on it, so many problems he's dealt with, and his current state of 'health' (more like unhealth). He did notice the other was now uncovered, but it did not matter, he was looking up at the face of the other. The other was so close. It almost made him dizzy, looking up into the eyes of the other. But he did not take a step back or falter, just stood there. While he was adapting and numbing up to the water, his skin was till tense and his lips were a rather pretty mix of light blue and pink.

The other wanted to touch his wings, didn't he? Jibril looked at Verkur carefully for a moment. The demon had shown no signs of wanting to hurt him in any way and he obviously knew how to be careful with those claws of his. If the other was feeling his back, he should also be able to feel the slight roughness of part of his tattoo. Some of it had been carved into his back, other parts had been done by magic. He nodded.

"Yes." Almost too quiet to here, but Verkur woud have heard it easilly.

He had raised his own hands, out of well, whatever it was, so as to not accidently bump into the other's unmentionables. They were inbetween his and Verkur's body, he was careful so they didn't touch Verkur.

You see, when Jibril doesn't focus, his healing ability does it's work on it's own, through any part of his body. And he's too mesmerized by the other's eyes right now to cut off his healing. But he had seen the scars on the other. This demon must have gone through many fights...

Or some very rough mating.

Jibril knew quite a lot about demons and their ways. But he wasn't sure if this demon was really the same. Sure he had the wings, claws...teeth. But he was also more elegant. Don't get Jibril wrong, he has met a few charismatic, almost elegant demons but they just weren't like Verkur. Verkur was like this walking magnet who sent out waves of well...magnetism? Whatever they were, Jibril was caught in the pull of the other before he even realized it.

Verkur's fingers didn't hesitate to slide gently down onto the wing, his claws managing to not even touch the feathers in the least. He's touched many, many, many sets of wings of many different textures in his life, he knows how he can and can not touch the wings to cause them pain or pleassure. His fingers caress each individual feather as he moves along, his own wings opening to an awe-inspiring wingspaned in response. Only, he didn't stretch them side to side but rather straight back on his back. Every muscle, every single one, tensed and shifted in moving those wings.

Was Jibril's body like that? Every muscle used to move his wings? But then...Jibril's wings would be lighter too. While the bone structures would be heavy, Verkur's bones aren't bones really, they're granite. And feather opposed to leather is rather light too. Jibril may not need the strength Verkur needs.

The hands came up and Verkur's eyes traveled down to see why. Oh. Not that it mattered, he still seemed completely impartial to stand there entirly naked in front of another. Why should he be embarassed?

He watched Verkur's body tretch and tense when Verkur's wings opened and in response he opened his own. Jibril's wings were actualy close to the weight of the other's, but not nearly close enough. Jibril's wings had been tucked up to his body, but he has very large wings, they are heavier than his body. He is a fully matured angel after all. They grow until about 5,000 years old and then they have reached maturity. After that they just advanced in their natural magical powers. Jibril's wing span, when he has them side to side, from wing tip, across shoulders to wing tip, is around 20 feet.

When he opens his, it's possibly as amazing as Verkur's, seeing as they had been in the water, droplets go flying as he does so. It's also a reaction to his wings being touched, he had arched forward so his arms had pressed against the other's chest. They stretch somewhat diagonally. Jibril uses his legs and torso muscles to move them, his head hardly moving. He's flown since...well...the begining. He also had to lean forward slightly and move his arms so his chest was pressed against the other as he had spread his wings. His hands were now on the arms of the demon, say bye bye to any open cuts you have on them Verkur, Jibril is focused on that nice feeling of your hands on his wings.

His face was near the other's but he wasn't looking at the other's face, he was looking at the other's wings. They were smaller than his, of course, but it was amazing how the other's body worked to spread them out. They must be heavy, very heavy indeed. His hands traced up the other's arms, sorry if you liked some of your scars Verkur, but thinner ones are gone and some are less noticable and any cuts, gone. Oops? His finger tips were feeling the back muscles of the other, not touching the wings yet, just feeling those powerful back muscles.

Simply amazing.

Cuts? Don't worry about it. Verkur's always having them healed because, with his body completely 'frozen in time' it won't heal itself and he must have it done for him. Actually Jibril, be proud of yourself, you just saved the fearful Emrys Damien a meeting with the Demon of Chaos. If Emrys knew, he'd probably be on his knees worshiping you right now.

As for scars, there are many, small, large, thick and deep, not thick at all. And most of them won't be able to go away, even with Jibril's power or Emrys' skill. They were put there before he'd come to this earth. Therefore, unchangeable unless he were back where his body could function on it's own. But many smaller scars, human placed scars, they faded when Jibril touched him.

Verkur's just a baby. Or at least, his body is. In his own world, for human years, he had been nearly one million years old. And on this earth, add three thousand to that number. He has the age of an elder, but his body has not aged, because it can't here. IF he goes back, finds a way back, then he will go back with the knowlege and age of an elder, but he will still be youthful. And he may live to be the oldest ELder in that Relm, or even the oldest Demon in the Relm's history, because his years were slowed on this earth. So he's just a baby. And his wings, his body, all of it, are just small. He may reach nine feet one day, should he go back.

His fingers traced the bridge of the supporting bone, then flattened and moved downward, in the direction of the feathers, all the way down the width of the wing. His own wings smell might irritate Jibril if he doesn't like the smell of flesh. Or it might not, seeing Jibril hadn't been bothered by the smell of Verkur. It's decay, light decay, the smell of death and old leather. Worn in leather, rare leather. Not like cattle or sheep. This was Demon leather. Touching his smooth back, the silky skin and even his silky hair, it'll be interesting to feet the difference between the smooth skin and the textured wings. His white eyes glow again.

Hee. Verkur's a big baby. That's a funny thing.

Jibby is no longer a baby. He's an old man er- Angel. He liked the feel of the other's hair, he was running his hands through it. This would probably be an odd sight to many humans, but ther creatures it may not be. An Angel and a Demon, feeling eachother's body, it's like animals who sniff and rub against eachother's bodies to get to know eachother. Humans waste their breath by talking, the only sense they seem to use is their sight, what they see is what they think. Jibril likes to touch and smell, sure, seeing is pleasant but why stop there?

His finger tips brushed ever so lightly aginst the base of the wings, where they connected to the back, as he felt down the back of the other. Then the waist of the other, barely above the hip bones and then up the chest of the other. Aside from scars, Verkur's skin was smooth and silky to Jibril. Some shallow humans would think of the scars as unnatractive but they aren't really. It shows the age and even the strength of the other, in other words 'you think this little cut is bad? Go look what I did to the shmuck who gave it to me'. Yea...kinda like that. It made Verkur seem even more dangerous.

The only scars Jibril had that were most noticeable were the ones on his face. Sure, he had them all over his body too, legs, arms, torso, neck, but none were on his back. Jibril was sensitive about his back, that's why it's amazing that he let Verkur touch it. He's rather like Alice, very protective of his wings. As for feeling the feathers, at the top they were soft and rather fuzzy, Alice's are smooth, Jibril's feathers aren't messed up, they're just fuzzy and soft, like a kitten's but even softer than that. But as you go down, they get smoother and then eventually rougher, his wings have been through a lot of things. He's due for a feather shedding sometime soon too. After the shedding they'll all be nice. He has a shedding every 100 years or so. Eef. That's like having to wait 3 hours to go potty.

Aaaanyways. He's enjoying the feeling of the other's skin, his hands are trailing up the chest, feeling the collar bone, the neck and the face of the other. He was feeling the features of the other, including the mouth and those /teeth/. Oh my, aren't they something. If Verkur' would allow Jibril to, he'd feel the sharp ridges of the other's teeth. Hate to get bitten by them.

Jibril likes to touch and smell, sure, seeing is pleasant but why stop there

Verkur's thoughts exactly. Why limit yourself if you have four other senses? And especially to someone like himself or Jibril, or vampires, where their senses are more sensitive, where they can see, smell, feel, tast, hear more then a human can, or even more then ninty percent of the creatures in the world. Why not use everything given to you?

Jibril's hands in his hair is nice, the straight curtians, now that he's only mid-thigh deep in the water, his hair is almost out of the water, a lot of it is wet and heavy. When the angel had leaned forward into him, his fingers returned to the back, touching, tracing the groove of the carved in tattoo. While Jibril's touching his chest and his throat and his face, he's following with his own hands on Jibril's body. His fingers tracing along the line of Jibril's pants, touching the skin, moving up until his claws tips touched where his fingers had. Touching up the torso, claws first, leaving only faint white traces of lines on the skin that faded away, followed by his fingers.

I think, perhapes, that's something all things with wings are protective of. Alice, Jibril, Verkur. Verkur would kill in a heartbeat in the first place, for no reason at all. Can you imagin what he would do if someone actually harmed his wings? Already the leathery wings are shreded from age along the bottoms of them. He tears them enough with age, he doesn't need a human to ruin them too. And unlike Jibril, he can't shed leather and regrow it.

He lets Jibril touch his mouth, feels the Angel's fingers lip inside his mouth and parts his lips, opens his mouth to show the sharp teeth, the four fangs. His mouth is cold, his breath (after eaten a human) smells suprisingly empty. It's almost scentless. His hands rested at either side of Jirbil's face, ran back down the chest.

(( Bah, sorry for not replying in a bit, been a busy week ))

Jibril's hands had drifted down slowly, out of the mouth of the other and back down, as to pull. up. his. damn. pants. Heavy mofos, sinking down with the weight of the water. It didn't look like he was having trouble, but when he let go of them...they slipped back down. They were trying to pull down his boxers too, more pale skin was showing as they did so.

He was pressed against the demon, hands playing with the other's toned chest, face, and hair. His face was tilted up. How long has it been since he's been in such intimate contact with someone? Forever, maybe? Jibril's was open. What did the other taste like? What an odd question. Let's try it.

Jibril rised on his toes as his tongue snuck out of his mouth and it trailed up the other's neck and jaw line. Mm. Salty. The water and skin was cold against his hot tongue. The salty river water gave flavor to this almost tasteless skin. How nice. Jibril pulled back after that, studying Verkur with an almost unreadable expression. Verkur should know it.

Jibril...nicely put...wanted something. Something very, very desirable. Very desirable.

Verkur's hands stopped following Jibril's when the other licked him, dragging his tongue alone his throat and jaw. He lifted his chin, put his head back, closed his white eyes and the glowing ceased. Verkur's hand slid down along Jibril's arms, his finger's moving all the way down to the fingertips before dropping away from them and running them down Jibril's belly.

Jibril gave Verkur the look and he knew what it meant. He closed his mouth where the other had been feeling his lips and teeth, his fangs hung over his lips when he just closed his mouth without thinking about them. His hands dropped to Jibril's pants and his finger's looped through the belt loop, pulled them up for the angel, then used them to pull Jibril against his naked body.

His eyes glowed and let a silvery light play on Jibril's face when he looked down on him, leaned forward, bit him. He bite him on the shoulder, almost at the pressure point to a human. That would lock humans muscles up until he released the point, making their body involunteerily shudder. What would it do to an angel?

He let go of Jibril's pants again after placeing one hand carefully below the place where the wings conected to the back and held him to him, letting the pants sag down with weight again, pressed his bare body to the exposed flesh. He stopped biting Jibril and raised his head up to his ear, notice no breath once more across the skin? "Is this what you desire?"

Jibril's hands slipped up to the other's shoulders when he was pulled up against the other. Then he was bitten. His fingers tightened ever so slightly. His body looked and was very much similar to a human's, but it was not the same. Jibril's shoulders help use his wings, and when the other bit him, his whole body seemed to stiffen, wings stretching out back. How could such a small thing affect him so? It felt like something warm shot through him. Maybe it was becuase of how long it's been since he and someone have been so intimate. Maybe it's becuase Verkur and who and what he is. Who knows.

The other let go of his pants as he was held up against the demon's body. His pants sagged back down and seemed to go down even farther since he was standing practically on the tip of his toes. The other stopped biting him, and Jibril's body shuddered, including his wings which sent droplets of water in which way direction.

He noticed that the other wasn't breathing, it was almost odd, it wasn't very odd since this Angel has witnessed far more...odd...things. But that certainly didn't mean that this demon wasn't interesting, no no, Verkur was absolutely fascinating. But Jibril wasn't focusing on that right now, no, definetly not. He was too busy paying attention to what the other was speaking into his ear.

He pulled his head back slowly, nose trailing ever slightly as turned his head, his own mouth against the corner of the other's. He was looking into the eyes of the other from this angle. Did he want this? Of course he did. And he gave a slow nod. Of course it's what he desired, but he supposed desired Verkur more. It wasn't just the idea of sex, but Verkur that made him want this. This doesn't happen to him normally, very rarely does he have such a deep desire.

"Must I give you a verbal reply? If so...yes...I desire this very...very...very...much..."

His voice was soft, lips moving practicaly against the other's. His eyes were bright enough to rival the brilliant glow of Verkur's, almost mixing with the white glow that the other's gave off. How fascinating all of this is.

The demon liked that reaction, when Jibril's body went ridged and his wings stood up like they did, instictivly reacting. Or rather, physically, leaving no choice in the matter.

Verkur chuckled softly, and again, it was like his voice, not a sound one would hear on this earth. It sounded dark and forboding, even though in his own tongue, in his own relm, this would sound like a light, breezy laugh, dismissing almost. He chuckled against Jibril's lips, where they were pressed to the corner of his own, a smile twitching one corner of his pale gray lips upward.

"Very, very, very," he repeated. That was a lot of 'verys'. Maybe Jibril can feel that Verkur's interest runs parallel to Jibril's at the moment. Or since, of course, he is nude, all Jibril really needs to do is glance down to know. He didn't wonder why this seemingly cautious creature would throw caution into the wind and want to bed a demon. He didn't question why him, why now. Those could wait.

"And if I give you what you want? I do nothing for nothing. You want this, and I want you." Literally, he wants Jibril. To keep. Like Alice, like Lucian, like Lucifer, Emrys, his humans. No, Jibril, if your not carful about what you offer in return, you might end up being one of Verkur's posessions.

"Indeed..."

There was always a catch to things. Jibril almost grinned against the other.

"You will give me what I want...but at a price...and you want me, is that it? What would I be? A toy? Something to be played with and then tossed away and forgotten?"

No snobby voice, no rude tone, just questioning.

"Why do you want me? Why should I offer myself up in this...trade of sorts..."

Of course Jibril is cautious, mainly about things such as this rather than sex. Sex isn't that big of a deal to him, oh yes, he likes it very much, but he doesn't get what this whole fit over it is about. Jibril didn't need to see that Verkur was just as interested as he was...he could feel it.

He pulled his face back slightly, studying the other.

"I suppose there isn't much you are willing to ask for besides well...me?

You will give me what I want...but at a price...and you want me, is that it?

Verkur's smile widened just a little, without showing teeth, pressed to the others lips. He moved his lips over the angel's entirly, opened his lips just enough to catch the other's between his own breifly and move to press the corner of his mouth to the other corner of Jibril's mouth. When he did so, the clawed hand once more used the pants to pull Jibril close against him.

"Indeed."

What would I be? A toy? Something to be played with and then tossed away and forgotten?

Verkur looked, felt, smelled, compleltly showed that he was somehow offended by this. He's the demon of Chaos but never has he simply played with and then tossed away a toy. Never has he forgotten one that he'd broken.

"A toy of sorts. But never would I just toss someone away, not even a mere human." Which means definatly not you. "I havn't forgotten any I've ever owned." Verkur protects his 'property people' from others, most often.

I suppose there isn't much you are willing to ask for besides well...me?

He shook his head. Where Jibril couldn't understand the big deal about Verkur wanting Jibril, Verkur couldn't understand the big deal about becoming his. I guess it's in a sense, mutual.

Jibril gave a slow, small smile and traced the other's jaw with his finger.

"Please don't be so offeneded...I guess I'm just very wary after dealing with all the people I have delt with."

Jibril's hands went back up, against the other's arms comfortably, so that he coould fit neatly as he was pulled up against the other. This was a hard thing to deal with. What would Logan say? Was Jibril really in such need of the other, to betray his master and let this demon have what he wants? It's rather like a man who is married to two women and neither know of the other family. Jibril pursed his lips, lip ring clicking against his tongue ring as he licked them.

"This shouldn't be so difficult, but it is, for I already have a Master, and it would be hard to explain to someone so young about this..." His hand went up against the other's face, tracing it. "...That is, if I told him about you..."

Jibril sighed, again, this situation shouldn't be so complicated. His eyes closed momentarily and opened. He wanted Verkur, he cared for Logan, but he wanted to do waht he wanted to do.

And he felt so guilty for that.

"You have a Master?"

The demon raised one slim, black, eyebrow up into a swift arch and let his white eyes glow down on the angel with curiosity and disgust. Disgust because the words 'Someone so young' had not gone unnoticed. An Angel with his age and his power should not be owned by anyone. It was disgraceful.

That is, if I told him about you

Oh, would we keep secrets from Logan, Jibril?

Verkur can play on that emotion. Jibril wants him. And he has the pontetial, even if just very slight, to keep things from his...ahem....master.

The demon's head turned to press his lips to the corner of Jibril's mouth, planting several soft kisses there. His hands moved down Jibril's hips, used his pants to once again pull Jibril tightly to his own naked body and grind against him just a little, teasingly, tempting. Verkur doesn't usually play games. But how he wants this ancient angel! It's so much different then the young creatures he's been with.

((I have an urge, rather, a need to pull on that nipple ring Em doll o_o sorry for not posting as of late, no computer until now))

Jibril was uncomfortable with keeping secrets from Logan, but he has been succesful so far with not blabbing anything. Keeping another secret is not okay but well...some occasions call for it?

He gave a sigh and a made a slight movement with his shoulders, one may call it a shrug.

"Yes...I suppose...he deems himself as my Master...but...I am not a slave."

Not to anyone. Yet Logan still has you wrapped around his pinkie, doesn't he Jibril? Jibril right now was having a rather tough internal argument. Agreeing to Verkur would be betraying Logan wouldn't it? But what if he never found out? But- That all comes to a stop and his mind goes blank.

Verkur's kisses distracted him. Jibril's too easy to manipulate.

The demon has gotten very good at seducing people, not just taking what he wants. Whether he calls this playing games or not, it's better than trying to force Jibril into doing this, that would have only caused him to say no more.

His face turned, half of his mind wanting to turn away but the other half of his mind and his body won, his face turning to meet the other's mouth. He wanted this demon and he was so close to giving in it hurt. He was shaking, possibly from the mixture of desire and frusteration. His fingers clenched and unclenched and they moved up the others arms over the shoulders and then down the back, nails digging hard but not hard enough to cut through the skin. Yet.

His eyes were brighter than they had been earlier, and halfway closed, like if someone was blocking part of a light. They were clear yet fogged and looking into the face of the other.

The other shouldn't have to ask to understand Jibril's decision. He wanted this and is willing to pay whatever price. If there was a hell, and Jibril ends up dying someday, he would have ended up going to the special hell.

Definetly the special hell.

Verkur indeed knew what the answer was. He always gets his way. Always. If Jibril had said no, the demon would not hesitate to force him in the way he had forced Alice. He just liked it so much more that he didn't have to fight to get what he wanted.

Verkur felt the fingernails running against his thick skin and was careful, in return, not to drag his claws across Jibril's skin, yet. Instead, he let them rip five holes on each side of Jibril's pants where he was holding the Angel against him so tightly. His lips moved off of Jibril's lips, slipping down his neck to the place where the shoulder and neck meet to bite with sharp teeth, just short of drawing blood. Verkur likes this spot, and the spot just above it. The first because it's a pressure point as well as a point of pleassure. The second because it's where his God put the mark on his own neck.

(I bet you do. That's why Ivan pulls on his all the time. And I pull on mine. It's sort of like.....irresistable to do. You can't help it.)

(( Indeed! >.o zomgsh, working computer! :dances one of her many dances of happiness: ))

He is a spoiled demon, that is for sure. And really, it would be no fun if he was always denied. It might get frusterating too, always being said 'no' to...must be kinda nice when someone says 'okay' or 'yes' everynow and then.

He ripped Jibril's pants! Ah well, Jibril didn't care, he'd probably just say it's part of the design. Unless they end up being ripped apart or something. Anyways, no need to bother with clothing right now, it's far below the last thing on Jibril's mind.

Verkur's bite had a similar effect to the first one, his body and wings tightened yet he went limp at the same time, the pain contradicting the pleasure and vise versa. His mouth opened, if just slightly, and he bit his lip to stop himself from making any noise. But he couldn't really stop that rumbling from his throat. While it was an extremely pleasurable place to be bitten, it also happened to be on one of his most vulnerable parts of his body.

One could say that the growl was both of pleasure and /almost/ a warning. Not a standing out warning, more subtle and hopefully not offensive. He knows Verkur would not rip out his throat, right now, but someone his age is always slightly careful.

But then again, isn't almost everyone?

No. It's how Alice wound up with Verkur on his backside half the time. Not being careful who he picked his fight with. And Lucian. Not being careful and checking out who this demon that owned Alice was before carving into Alice to get the demon angry. And that's how Rasmus ended up his, shooting off a gun to kill himself and missing. And Acid, going home with a stranger that he didn't know. And Eric, not understanding who he was calling before summoning him. Lucifer and Charlie were the only ones to become Verkur's in an otherwise fashion. Lucifer because he was Erik's. Charlie because he wanted to replace Erik. And no Jibril...because Verkur had given him a choice. So not everyone is carful. In fact, most aren't.

Verkur noted the rumble and in return, he bite down harder. He enjoyed the feeling of the angel going ridged under his fingers. His teeth moved eventually from that spot, leaving deep indents but not blood, to the collar bone, his claws freeing themselves from the pants to roam up Jibrils back until his fingers found the wings again.

...People are just complicated. It isn't the situations that are complicated, it's people who complicate them.

Jibril only tensed more when the other bit him, and his nails dug harder into the other's skin and his mouth did open up more. He was so tensed up, can you imagine what he was like when the other let go? He practically slumped against the other but he didn't lose footing. He managed to straighten himself up more, but his complete body was still pressed up against the other's.

His nails dragged down the back of the other, to the small of his back and then down the thighs, pinky fingers teasing the front of the thighs as he did so. Then he dragged them back up and they went around the shoulders and neck, fingers going through the hair. He was careful not to cut anythig but he wasn't...gentle anymore, sure he was careful, but he wasn't...gentle.

He stands up on his toes, he does this to reach the other's mouth, and he kisses the other deeply, tongue and all. He's a pretty good kisser, I do declare, he's had many years of practice.

Everyone say 'Ooooh' cause Jibril is getting excited.

Heh.

ooooohhh!

Verkur shivers beneath the fingernails grating down his back, the hands down his thighs, up his torso. His fingers ran the length of the bone of Jibril's wing as far as his reach allowed, the very tips of his claws touching, carefully not scratching or slicing. His hair feels like silk, all of it. Silk and smooth, like touching soft feathers or a soft curtian.

The nails in Verkur's hair makes another shudder and Verkur advances against the agnel, but since they're pressed togather, he's actually pushing Jibril backwards, out of the water, onto the bank, all of his pale gray body exposed now, beads of water running down his flesh, glinting in the moonlight.

The other's handiwork is making Jibril shudder. Not very many people touch his wings, he's so sensitive right there. It feels so nice though. The other's hair felt really nice too. So soft and silky, he didn't rip it out of course, nor did he pull any out on accident, but he was still playing with it.

Jibril willingly follows Vekur's, of course it didn't matter much since the demon was practically carrying him. He couldn't see the other's body right now becuase his face was tilted up, but his pants definetly sagged much more with all the water it has absorbed and nothing to help hold it up. His belt is wet and his boxers are wet too, they are already falling down, pulling the boxers down slightly with it. Pants are nearing the middle of his thighs.

He's going to have to get a stronger belt. Later, of course.

A stronger belt? Why? This one was letting his pants come off so easily. If he had a stronger belt, Verkur would have probably just snapped it off.

Verkur continued to walk, strong thighs pushing Jibril's into walking backwards. He used his hands to pull Jibril's wings open around a tree and continued walking until the angel was pressed against the tree itself.

In other situations, you don't want Jibby's pants to fall off, do you? This particular one had been his second strongest one, the strongest is just wear too heavy duty to wear when it's still warm.

Jibril's wings, when pulled, turned slightly forwards so that they were still on either side of the tree, but also pointing forwards, almost on Verkur's sides. The angel pulled back his head, against the tree and looked around, just to understand where he was then looked back to the other, hair still fisted in his hands. Getting a little dominant aren't we Verkur? Oh well for Jibby, he'll have to get used to it.

Jibril only leant back forward, bitting theother's lower lip before nibbling and then kissing him once again. Obviously he really only has his mind on one thing. Well, besides Verkur.

Dominate? He's being carefully gentle here. Actually, we should congradulate him, he's being incredably careful. With Alice, the night he put...er...punctures in Alices bed (that almost ended up in Alice's body) he was being gentle. Now he's trying not to scare the angel away from him. Does this tell you the height of physical attraction Verkur has for the ancient Jibril?

Verkur had Jibril pinned there to the tree and when he noted the wings partially around him on either side, his own wings opened, spraying dropletts of water against Jibril's feathers and folded his wings forward to pass Jibril's wings, nearly circling them inside Jibril's wings, leaving the other's wings outside of his own...almost like...a hug? His wings were cool, had that distinct scent of death and life and smoke.

He pulled his lips from Jibril's to bite that place on his shoulder again, just to see what would happen when Jibril's wings were pointed forward instead of backwards.

Which strikes as very, well, amazing. Who thought Verkur could be gentle? No offense to Verkur, it just doesn't seem to...fit him. But it certainly does tell how physically attracted Verkur is to Jibril, simply shocking.

Jibril could smell Verkur's wings, such an interesting scent really, where does the smoke come from? His own smelt like him, with a musky sort of smell, of age, like the distinctive flavor of aged wine.

The other bit him once again, his body reaction was the same, but with how his wings were 'folded' like that, it wasn't the same. Sure they stretched, up, and stiffened, up against the wings of the other and his feathers parted, as if they too were stretching and stiffening, like when you flex your hands. They had closed tightly against the trunk and that raised him slightly too. He had taken a shap breath, it was so painful yet exhilirating to have his wings in this position. It gave more feeling to the situation.

Verkur leaned on him when Jirbil's wings pushed him up like that, and then stopped biting him, traping him there. Jibril's toes are probably just barely touching the ground, Verkur's body holding him up. Verkur moved his wings slightly backwards, which moved Jibril's wings open a little in the process.

Can you tell, even being so careful, he still finds a way to be dominante? It is so not his character to be this careful, it's taking a lot of restraint too. He already has to restrain himself to keep from violently killing Lucian or Alice when they have sex, now this extra bit of carful. Killer.

Verkur thought very carfully about not tearing away Jibril's pants from his body entirly and instead put his own clawed hands through Jibril's curls. Then down the back of his neck.

It makes this one wonder, what would happen if he had no restraint? Verkur's will power is exceedingly strong. It probably takes practically forever to get there. Why would he have the urge to kill someone during sex? Instinct?

When Jibril's wings open more, he gives a sigh of what could be called relief. And it causes him to relax, and uncurl a few limbs. His toes are still curled though, and hadly scrape the ground.

His own hands were curled in the demon's hair and they were brushing through the soft tresses. The other's fingers and claws felt nie against his head and through his hair. He was back to his purr like growling again.

How long were they going to play around?