Thread: Yo Ho, Ho, And A Bottle of Rhum on a Dead Man's Chest;;

Watching aloofly as the men all cheered and a few came up to him to utter welcomes, Torean gazed at them all stonily. Despite the beast's state of satiation, he couldn't help the automatic way he looked at other human beings, his eyes quickly scanning the crowd. Looking at the fleshy parts of limbs and stomachs, the vulnerable necks and identifying the body parts with faces and clothes. The cataloging of the men as possible things to eat in order of the most desirable was something he did when around people whether the demon prompted him or not. And he allowed himself the privilege despite the oaths he made to protect these men as family. Afterall, he was just looking and he never knew when something might happen to loosen this bond and he'd get the chance to slaughter them all. He pursed his lips at the grim thought process. Hearing the woman speak to him, he looked at her without moving, feeling her fatigue like a wave right next to his own alertness, the two sensations seemingly blended briefly before he identified the foreign emotion as hers. He followed her as she led the way to her chambers, his eyes crawling all over everything, flittering over book titles and taking in the furnishings, comitting them to memory down to the last detail, analyzing the new space he was in for possible flaws. But the room was just a room and he listened to her explanation of the lodgings with a quirked eyebrow. Was that...embarressment? Yes, she was slightly self-conscious about this. He shrugged and looked away from her to show how he really didn't care as he made his way to the indicated bed. Afterall, it seemed most plausible with her being brave enough to put up with him this far. He stood on his side of the curtain she'd made, looking down at the bed as he took off his jacket, setting his bundle off to the side and unbuckled his pants. Sitting on the bed, he slipped off his boots, his feet feeling odd before he realized how long it had been since he'd taken them off. Then he was sitting back into the bed, mussing the blankets roughly to get them how he wanted them. His bed at home had rotted until it was just a bundle of bedclothes and the rats and vermin had eventually taken over it, ever since he'd killed the harlot he'd brought home that one time. Her corpse was probably still nestled among the old blood encrusted sheets with the little rats and bugs crawling through her and under her dead skin. That had been a year or two ago, since he'd given up his bed and started sleeping on the floor. The floor hadn't been much better than the bed and he wasn't used to lying down, but it felt good to do so now, and he let out a deep breath as his back fell upon the plush cloth and mattress. Then, unwittingly, his eyes drifted to the curtain, widening a bit as he watched the Captain's form as she undressed. seeing her silhouette, Torean was a bit surprised but not in a disapproving manner. He knew a beautiful woman when he saw one and had sexual desires just like any man, but the demon tended to either warp those desires or heavily dampen them to the point where they were severely repressed. Besides, he remembered all of his sexual experiences over the past few years and grinned a bit in both disgust at himself and pleasure at the memories. Most times, even if the demon was satiated, if he got into the act of copulating with a woman somewhere in the middle of said act the demon would get excited and awaken. Needless to say, all of the women he'd had sex with EVER had never walked away from the experience alive. His sexual identity was tied heavily with the demon's need for violence, but maybe with this bond...things would be different. The pain of her death should be enough of a deterent for him to be able to finish anything he started with her... Then he sneered at himself irritatedly for even thinking such thoughts. Fuck, yes she was attractive and he was sharing a room with her, but that did not mean sex was even an option. It was too early to tell and rape wasn't an alternative being bound to protect her by his own word as he was. He continued to look towards the curtain as he thought of this, and the Captain got into her own bed, uttering a quick Good night. Abruptly he was struck by an awkward feeling, like he didn't know what to say. He paused for several moments before finally deciding to mimic her and harshly replied, Good night. As he lay there trying to let his body relax, and feeling the constant presence of the woman in the bed just a little ways away, he reached down over the side of the bed into his boot, pulling forth the blood stained knife. Then, quietly, he started to lick it, slowly and repeatedly, feeling the souls of those he'd killed locked inside it, the pleasure from their deaths washing over him again as if he were killing them right now. The demon was asleep inside him, so the feelings of twisted perversion he felt were all his own as he began to stroke himself, reliving ever death in his head, hearing their wails of agony before he finally drifted off to sleep.