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To Be Human (Princessofdarkness & Dark_Fire27)

Dark_Fire27

Super-Earth
Joined
Sep 30, 2016
Name: Damian Fear
Appearance Age: 26
Actual Age: 2453
Gender: Male
Race: Demon - Humanoid

Personality: Somewhat uncaring and indifferent to many situations, Damian also has a tendency to question authority and dominance in others. Normally keeps his distance or keeps himself from getting involved in business that is normally not his own. Fairly passive, when pushed to be defensive, Damian often restrains himself unless he knows it won't be enough. Additionally, Damian is a bit of a loner, never really opening himself too much around others besides his name and what he does... never disclosing the truth, naturally.

Bio: An outcast, Damian was thrown out of hell merely for questioning, and surpassing, who was supposed to be his mentor. However, unable to be accepted back at home, nor will the angers seek to offer him refuge because he is a demon, Damian is ultimately forced to live as a human. Thus, he makes the presence of his powers to be absolutely minimal to nonexistent; he has a home, a fairly average-paying job to take care of the bills, yet he is often self-kept, preferring not to get himself too associated with others, mostly as it would risk his exposure. Humans may have the belief that angels and demons may exist... to find out they really do could cause chaos; contradictory to his nature as a demon, Damian has the inner desire to avoid that as much as possible.

General Powers/Traits: Fire manipulation, super strength, reflexes and senses (about 10x greater than a body builder), incredible endurance and balance, difficult to submit, regeneration, flight via wings, and gaze powers than can cause hypnotic control or induce sleep, but only affects those of the opposite sex, women.
Appearance:
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Gazing through the window, watching as the sun set over the horizon, Damian's back rested against the counter, seated in his stool. The evening shift was about to begin for this place, a local bar in the downtown area. Vehicles would pass by frequently, civilians walk along the sidewalk, a few of them entering the pub for a quick meal or drink before heading on their way... A fairly average evening and what it has been for a while. The man's gaze continued to watch out the window, somewhat in an absent-minded manner, not really focusing on the then and there within the building. The day had been long and... well, not all that hard, as he had completed work on time as usual; seldom does he stay in for overtime unless he knows that there isn't anything lined up. Not like he has much planned outside, really.

Clad in the blue, work jacket of his, underneath was his casual clothing, consisting of a white-button-up shirt, a tie which he had undone and had wrapped around his right wrist. Additionally he wore some black jeans, with a belt worn through the hoops, and ultimately, some steel-toed work boots. He cut himself at work, explaining why his tie was worn around his wrist, but... it had already healed completely, yet he kept it there as a bit of his dried blood stained through, though he was sure it would clean when he got back. Nonetheless, he couldn't really remove it unless he wanted to arouse questions, which he preferred to avoid if he could. Damian was quiet and kept to himself, seldom does he speak to others; in this bar, he could very well be considered a regular of sorts; sitting in the same place, having a few drinks, and well after the sun sets, right as things began to get really dark, only then did he leave. Things were still too early for him to go anywhere at this moment.

The television that was on, about ready to get into the game, was talking about a news event that occurred the previous night; a group of males that was a gang in the local area seemed to have suffered some kind of beating, yet they claim just a single man was able to do that. They were about to be hauled into the police station because their drug dealings was exposed to the local authorities, and the one addressing the news story seemed to be expressing some gratefulness that one less gang was off the streets, but there were plenty more that may take this into some careful considering in where they do their operations. Damian rolled his eyes a bit, as if in disbelief that a gang would go on that claim; they had the appearance to handle one guy, and had the firearms to do so... they must have been caught with their pants down to have that story even the slightest bit convincing. Some other regulars seemed to be laughing rather loudly, and obnoxiously, over by the pool tables as they play their game, while watching the same news, and going about discussing to themselves. The young man just opted to keep to himself, ordering another drink from the tender on shift...
 
Name:Roselyn Tulley (Rose for short)
Age:22
RaceHuman
Gender:Female

Appearance:
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Personality and Bio: Roselyn is genuinely nice to those she meets, but her heart is well protected and she keeps it that way because of her dark past.
As a baby Rose was abandoned by both her parents. They didn't want to have a child and so they gave her up as soon as she was born. Rose learned to fend for herself at sixteen after she had run away from the Orphanage, and has been living in a small apartment nearby her work, trying to make ends meet ever since.

Rose was only a waitress up until she turned the legal age of twenty-one and from then on, she now serves as a bar tender too.
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"Get out there and do your job girl!" came a loud booming voice as Rose stared dreamily out the window in the kitchen. Having being shook from her little daze, she turned toward to voice and came face to face with her Boss. He had a not so pleasant look on his face as he snapped his fingers at her to get going.

"Alright, I'm going calm down" she mumbled, grabbing a tray and tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear before she opened the double doors and walked out into the open area. Of course it was noisy as always, the obnoxious voices of the frequent bar patrons carrying over the tv screen, people grumbling about not being able to hear what the tv was saying or missing an important part of the current game being played, and the desperate drunks trying to muster the courage with the help of alcohol, to ask the women that would visit, out on a date. It never ended, and it never changed.

Or so she thought..

Roselyn was busying herself behind the bar, pouring drinks and taking orders as she glanced to her side and saw someone she had never seen visit this bar before. Maybe it was because he was here on her off days or maybe he just blended it and she missed him? But either way, she knew she had to meet him.

As if fate had heard her, or the simple coincidence of her being the only bar tender available right now, the man ordered another drink.

Her eyes wandered over him briefly, noticing he was clad in a blue work jacket and rather more quiet than the rest of the people in the pub, which puzzled her.

Shrugging, Rose placed the full glass back in front of him, about to say something until she was interrupted by a brawl breaking out over by the pool tables and rushed over to deal with it.

"That's enough you two, not tonight come on" she said, giving two huskily built men a warning glare.

"Oh but darling, we were just having a little fun" the taller one with short brown hair and large muscular arms smiled at her.

Rose sighed and shook her head. "Not in my bar, and not tonight. Your little fun as you call it, has cost me my paycheck twice already!" she retorted, frustration in her voice. "Now sit down and enjoy your drinks or I'll have you hauled out of here and thrown on your backsides!" And with that Rose stormed off to the kitchen, tending to the food orders.
 
Tapping the countertop in a somewhat idle manner, Damian wasn't surprised how many just seemed to overlook him. He was one of those people that could keep a low profile without really trying, though then again, some people who never seen him before do tend to be curious. Those men were starting to get a bit rowdy with one another, and as the waitress went over to try and settle down, it didn't take much to see in their eyes, not to mention the smell of the air around them, that they were already intoxicated. Even though Damian had a few drinks already, he appeared perfectly fine, as if he had a fast metabolism or something.

The men were starting to push at one another, and while there were people wanting them to stop, well... none of them really had the courage to go over to talk to them about it. Damian contemplated over it, mulling his thoughts over the idea... but the way they looked at the waitress's back end as she headed back to deal with the food orders, it didn't take much to get a glint of the lust in their eyes, as if they hadn't been with a woman in months, possibly years...

"Who are you starin' at?" Apparently one of the goons, a bit smaller than the one that actually spoke back to the woman, yet still just as menacing, noticed Damian was looking over in their direction.

"...Who would even want to look at you, besides your mother? I was looking out the window behind you at my parked vehicle, making sure I didn't have a parking manager standing over to ticket me as soon as the meter runs out." Now... Damian may have triggered a bit of anger in that very goon as he said those words... and in fact, that was the most words he said at any one time. "Now if you wouldn't mind, I'm trying to hear the game that's on." Damian would turn to face the TV... and even through the business of the bar, that goon seemed to get out of the restraints of the leader, made it over to Damian, and grabbed him by the scruff of the collar, forcing him to look at him.

"Oh, I do mind, ya piece o' shit! If you's not happy about our fun, then leave. Otherwise, just shaddup and sit there like a good boy, else you want to have a black eye with that drink." Now, Damian had every right to strike back, and it would be considered self-defense... but what would that prove? It would only agitate the rest of the group into attacking him, and the clean-up bill would be enormous for any one of them if a full-on brawl took place. Damian did close his eyes when the man effectively spat as he spoke, with the accent he spoke in... Sounded like one used in Texas, just striving to sound tough, though usually, can't walk the walk at the end of it.

Regardless, Damian would feel the man let go of him, taking the drink he just ordered over to the table... but Damian said nothing, just rolling his eyes. He was tempted... so very tempted, to have given him a right hook right to the jaw, despite his nonchalant expression, but even then, Damian remained calm. Though, he had the feeling he would be a target if he were to leave the bar... Better it be outside than inside, if that were the case.
 
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