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Evil Knows Evil

The snake’s steps were certain yet unknown, as though his progress was being lead by another hand. In a way, that was precisely what it was, a dark feeling tugging on him, pulling him a certain path. While many others would find this to be more gravely concerning than interesting, Terumi had long learned that any who could actually gain his attention deserved at least some one on one time with the evil spirit. If nothing else, it was good to know who else he was contending with out here.

An old building, windows boarded up and defaced by local hooligans. The place was so typical he could have cried, but take what you could get? A key remained in the lock of the front door. A chuckle followed by a step inside. As the door shut behind him, he found himself in complete black, with only the smallest slivers of light peeking in. But even here, he saw perfectly, eyes gleaming from beneath his hood. A table set before him, two chairs on either side. Out of the corner of his eye, movement.

There was something utterly foul in the air.

He wasn’t alone in this space anymore. It felt odd, almost as though he was meeting some distant kin. It was still too soon to tell what he was dealing with, but he could not pretend that he wasn’t intrigued. In this shit hole of a world, someone with even a touch of malice to them could really liven things up. And there was such an odious darkness to this one. A shuffle of a seat on the ground, as the serpent sat down opposite to his company.

“You found me. Or did I find you? Either way, I think it would be nice to have a little talk with good company.”

@whocouldwinahabit

#whocouldwinahabit #(Habit 01)

Slithering

“Damn it, damn it...”

The endless stream of muttered curses followed by the hooded form quickly leaning against the wall were all signs of this man’s situation being less than ideal. Using the dark of the night as a cloak, he steadily made his way to his “home”, using what he could as leverage to steady himself.

He kept to the shadows, having waited for night to fall so that he could move through the streets without trouble. Last thing he wanted was attention, especially in his weakened state. Without hatred to fuel him, that very essential magic cut off from him, he was little more than a normal human. All of his might, all of his power, sealed, leaving him with just the physical capabilities of this lesser body. It was brutal, agonizing almost, and it left him feeling like a child, still learning how to properly walk.

And so, walking about, uncoordinated and unfocused, Terumi proceeded forward at a snail’s pace, trying to get his bearings again. It wouldn’t take too long to get used to this - he wouldn’t allow it to - but fighting and defending himself would be hilariously out of the question. With only three minor uses of his magic at his disposal, and butter knives - fucking butter knives - for weapons, it was best to play it safe, at least until he could get all his motor functions working properly.

But even at this time of night, it was all too easy to find other people wandering the streets, and while some would be willing to just ignore the eccentric looking serpent, others would let curiosity get the better of them. No matter how focused Terumi was, he would not allow himself to be caught unaware as one woman in particular approached, especially one with a taste of magic in the air.

“Here to get a good laugh?”

@convecnation

#convecnation #(Aisen 01)

And now we’re in business! I shall be your friendly neighborhood sadistic god for the time being! With the intro out of the way, lets throw up a starter call! Gonna cap it at 3 currently, but cast-mates feel free to throw in likes as well - i would be rude not to allow you all your chance at beating on a weakened Terumi.

That said, as a warning to those who do not know his character, Terumi/Susano’o is an utterly vile existence without redeemable quality. So do be cautious; the last thing I want to do is cause undue distress! Lets have fun.

#ca starter call

Death Without End

How many times had he returned to the mortal coil? How many times had he cheated death, mocking those who dared to think that he could simply die? And now, here he was again, but unfortunately under the most unwanted of circumstances. From death, returned the god, against his will, a slave once again. And he knew the one to blame for it all.

“Couldn’t just let me die, could you, you bitch?!”

Curses aimed at Amaterasu fell on deaf ears, and they were all he could truly muster, forced to his knees at the weight of his own form. He felt weak, so disgustingly weak. It was atrocious, pathetic, unacceptable. His body was disgustingly frail and the hatred that would empower it was gone just as well. Right now, he’d be barely above the humans he had come to torment and he could not stand the idea of being at their level. Such a repugnant thought, to him, was equivalent to the tortures he would have inflicted upon others, a poetic irony to his now revitalized existence.

A fucking joke. That’s what he had become.

“DAMN IT ALL TO HELL!”

Was this truly his hell? To be forced upon the lifeforms he detested while being reduced to their level in the process? No. He wouldn’t accept this! He REFUSED! Body aching and groaning in protest with each motion, he rose to his feet, fixing a glare to the sky. Fury raged within his being, and while such a thing only meant so much now, in due time, it would be the catalyst to bring ruination onto this land, destruction that only a god could muster.

“Fine. You want to keep playing this damn game with me, I’ll make you regret it, ‘Sister’! In the name of Susano’o, I’m going to tear this city apart and then I’m coming for you, Amaterasu...!”

And there would be no force in Heaven or Earth that would save this world.

#;ca intro