Oc roleplay with your host dani

(Phalakros) He turns, staring at Deimos like a scared rabbit. “I… try to avert these battles. Sometimes I never arrive in time. I… what are you, if I may?”

(Me) He’s a twitch, and he has also been possessed in the past, the creature started to genetically mutate him before it was expelled. So yeah, he’s really a twitch.

(Phalakros) He nods shakily, looking at Lucitius again. He sighs, plopping on the ground with indecision on his face.
“When he wakes, he will lash out at anyone nearby. It’s a reflex, but one that has caused trouble.”
He avoids looking at Deimos while speaking.

(Phalakros) He timidly looked at Deimos.
“I owe mine life to Lucitius. He has saved me countless times, and he, in his strange way, believes I am a reincarnation of his first son. He has never hurt me, intentionally at least. I… have met many creatures with Lucitius, and some have chosen to attack me as a way to wound him. I… I still see them, lurking at the edge of mine vision. They never leave me!”
He curls up, rocking back and forth.

(Phalakros) He slowly lifts his head, looking around cautiously. He breathes deeply.
“‘Tis a sad beginning I had. I never knew mine parents, and was raised by the leader of the rogue tribe. I… knew not of this for a long time, yet… I had known Lucitius before he became what he is now. His former self, a drāckonian heir, had mentored me while I was little. He then abandoned me and influenced his own death. The loss of his tribe, witnessing everyone die, had… I was too little then to understand.”
He held a feather in his hair, running his clawed fingers through it.

(Phalakros) “You were somewhat right in your comment earlier. Lucitius is, in his own way, a child. He has seen eons, and even created drāckonians, before merging with the drāckonian heir named Lucitius. Yet, he has said that, despite his immense age, he is little more than a youth compared to other immortal creatures.”
He glances at Lucitius, who remains unconscious, then flinches as if something touched his shoulder. He looks around hurriedly, then sighs.
“I know not what to do. I am a follower, not a leader.”

(Me) Is that ‘i’olite or ‘L’olite? I hate the way the keyboard makes it hard to tell sometimes.

(Phalakros) Glances over in complete confusion, having no idea what a ‘McDonald’s’ is. He then turns back to Deimos.
“I know not what to say. I am honored by your offer, yet…” He sputters for words, then gives up with a moan.

(Me) Cool.

(Phalakros) He stares at Iolite.
“Are you a human? I have only ever heard of ‘restaurants’ in the human realm.”

(Phalakros) “I… hope I understand.”
He gets distracted by something imaginary on the ground and slowly moves away from it. He brushes his hands through his hair, then turns back to Iolite.
“What happened with Lucitius? Why did he fight?”

(Phalakros) “Always. He is quick to anger. I only wish I had gotten here sooner. I might have been able to soothe him and avert this fight.”
He sighs.

(Phalakros) He shrugged, still troubled.
“If you do try and wake Lucitius, be prepared. He is quick with those devilish claws. All you need to do is touch him, even a small nudge to the foot is enough, and he bursts awake. He is also quite fond of hitting folks with his wings… or biting. I have never seen another drāckonian that fond of biting others.”

(Phalakros) He shrugs again.
“You know not of his claws. I have seen him cut a diamond in half with little effort.”
He abruptly stands and takes a few steps away from where he had been sitting. He watches the spot for a long moment. He then turns to Lucitius, clearly debating what he should do.

(Phalakros) “Well, it seems you and Lucitius share something in common. Being severely wounded multiple times and surviving. I know not all that has happened to him, yet he bears hundreds of scars from both of his lifetimes, mental and physical.”
He moved over to Lucitius, staring at his enormous wings. He shuffled side to side.

(Phalakros) “No. There has already been too much bloodshed here.”
He seems to have developed an unusual boldness in his demeanor, considering his typical nervousness. He tapped Lucitius’ back with a foot, immediately jumping back.

Lucitius burst into action, his wings vanishing. He twisted around, his claws tearing Phalakros’ robe, narrowly missing flesh. He froze, his eyes widening as he comprehended who he had just attacked.

(Lucitius) “Mine dear Phalakros, forgive me!”
He sat down, shaking his head in dismay.

(Phalakros) “You missed, thankfully.”

(Me) I honestly flipped a coin and rolled for this one.

(Lucitius) He glanced over at Deimos, an eyebrow raised.
“‘Tis it anger or loneliness?”,he quietly asks.

(Phalakros) “I beg you, start no more fights!”

(Lucitius) He shook his head. “I am exhausted, Phalakros. I also have no desire to battle this intriguing creature, regardless his aloof demeanor.”