I was thinking, Mr. Sylus. Now that I am more clear-headed, I wonder why you didn't take advantage of the situation we were stuck in. Anybody else would have, and we could have traded cards, even.
From my experience, yes. Besides, I do like the way chains look on you. With all the spookiness going on the House lately, you should visit me and perhaps we can dress up for the occasion.
Well, there's only one way to win the game, after all.
Not drastically, but it is a bit troublesome. I don't have any clothes that would fit me as I am now. I have two large wings on my back that I'm trying to get used to so I need some assistance.
Well, if you want to call it that, I don't mind. Us Halovians do have quite angelic features from birth. These are just a little too difficult to move in. They're wide.
I’m in the 6th floor. I’ll leave the door unlocked.
( His room has a large enough mirror that’s in front of his bed. Though it’s still difficult feeling back to the articulations of those newly sprouted wings. He may need to alter clothes to properly dress… )
( He keeps his wings tidy around his back so he doesn't bump into anything. Even though his room is basically a large hotel-looking suite. He doesn't have that much decoration.
Whenever Sylus appears, Sunday looks at him up and down - it's too real to be a costume. )
( Sunday is just trying to be nice about it! It's hard not to stare at all the other extra features. The glowing ember is particularly attractive, given their difference in height, too. It's impossible not to look at it. )
Everything, really.
Please, make yourself at home.
Your horns, are you able to feel if someone touches them?
[He folds just enough so that Sunday doesn't have to stretch too much to reach for his horns. It may look like a strange, large beast inclining its head for pats, but let's not mention that.]
( A devil bowing to a dangerous angel, how cute. Sunday is glad that Sylus can at least respect his boundary, and he reaches for one of his horns, tracing his fingers delicately down the thickness of it. He brushes down hair as he reaches the root, almost like he's trying to figure out if it's truly part of him. )
[While not really sensitive, per se, one of Sylus' wings does twitch for half a second at the touch. Like he was expecting it, but not sure when the touch would land, surprised when it does. Yet, it's the comment from the angel that has him tilt his head further into the pads of Sunday's fingers, like daring him to be unabashed at his exploration.]
Oh? Do they? [He's absolutely amused by that because, well, it may as well be closer to his truest form.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
un: songbird / text
( Maybe he's not Sunday's type? )
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As for disappointment. Well. I didn't think of it that way, but perhaps you're right.
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Are you even in need of a card like mine?
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Every card is important to me, so yes. I have yet to collect one like yours. The question is, do you care to have mine?
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Am I, now?
Every card is a trump card in the right hands.
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From my experience, yes. Besides, I do like the way chains look on you. With all the spookiness going on the House lately, you should visit me and perhaps we can dress up for the occasion.
Well, there's only one way to win the game, after all.
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About that.
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changed, in any shape or form?
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Were you also changed?
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That's… interesting.
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I still can't fly, though.
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Something similar has happened to me, though.
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( And it's not disappointment, more like he's not surprised. )
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that :9
Slorp
( His room has a large enough mirror that’s in front of his bed. Though it’s still difficult feeling back to the articulations of those newly sprouted wings. He may need to alter clothes to properly dress… )
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[And true to form—he's there in five minutes. Even if he has to bend a little for his own wings to go through the door.]
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Whenever Sylus appears, Sunday looks at him up and down - it's too real to be a costume. )
Your ears...
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Of all things, that's what you notice? [Not the horns, not the glowing ember in his chest, not his own wings, but his ears?]
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Everything, really.
Please, make yourself at home.
Your horns, are you able to feel if someone touches them?
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Slightly, but yes. Are you curious?
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( Sunday looks like he could ascend any moment now, having those three pair of wings spreading widely behind his head and a shining halo. )
If you let me feel them, I will allow you to touch my wings. It's a fair trade.
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And yet…] Your wings? Not your halo?
[He’s genuinely curious there, his head tipping sideways just an increment.]
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( Better not test what a biblically accurate angel can do. That halo of his is capable of imprisoning and lashing psychic damage to its foe. )
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[He folds just enough so that Sunday doesn't have to stretch too much to reach for his horns. It may look like a strange, large beast inclining its head for pats, but let's not mention that.]
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They suit you.
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Oh? Do they? [He's absolutely amused by that because, well, it may as well be closer to his truest form.]