[Damos]
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The soft patter of rain and fall off rumble of thunder was a welcomed change from the sometimes too sunny days. Although the musician had mixed feelings about taking his guitar out on this sort of a day, still, he needed to eat. And thus, he needed to play. He found a nice corner, an awning overhead shielded him from the elements. Crowds gathered, faces blurred together. It was just another day in paradise. His seat was an old bucket, in front of him an open guitar case; a few crumbled bills and some change adorned the blue velvet inside. On his lap, Taylor GS Mini mahogany acoustic guitar, the strap hung over the boy's thin shoulders. He leaned back, the material of his hoodie coming into contact with the glass of the shop he was currently seated in front of. Leaning back casually, the musician continued to strum the copper strings with a gentle flick of his wrist. His voice was warm and rich, pulling in more strangers and passer-bys. Although, a growing commotion soon caught the attention of the emerald hues. From his vantage point he was just able to make out the features of a distressed youth as the group of guys closed in around him. The red skin and horns doing nothing to shake his determination as he flew from his perch and shoved his guitar in it's case. Without a moment, he was pushing on guy off, and shoving the other hard into the door of a parked car. He stood between the doubled over figure and his attackers. "Hey ese. Ain't much o'va fair fight if chu askin' meh. How 'bout chu cats pick on niggas ya own size." A laughable notion considering the musician had to be smaller than the demonic boy he was now protecting.
