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Post by Fang the Defiler on Jun 3, 2013 13:08:15 GMT -5
Helot, as a being of incredible sophistication, had just returned from a brief trip from the art museum, the doors closing behind him as his glasses reflected an expression of lazy cheer. He, of course, passed by the boring pieces of art, those with little red or gory scenes. He had studied a particularly bloody piece containing a hunting scene, of a wolf pack circling and tearing into a little girl, the detail rather stunning. A hunter on horseback, claws in his side, had jammed a spear into the head of one of the wolves.
The battle was intensifying in his eyes, the color vividly flashing before his mind's eye and purring with a nod of satisfaction.
Helot, in his day, appreciated art form, also used his talents to partake in painting, although most of his paintings consisted of the different fluids of the body, whatever it may be, of all colors, and from any body part that produced a slightly different consistency. He was quite talented when it came to putting together something once he had torn apart. So the demon walked, heels clicking upon the cobbled streets in town, searching for another form of entertainment.
Perhaps he'd hit the last bit of a great tragedy at the theater, twin lovers stabbing each other with daggers. And while the blood wasn't real, the passion behind their swings excited the beast almost as much as the blood flow itself. Yes...His body turned towards the direction of the theater, head down within the crowd, a grin stretching the mockery of his human face.
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