[Being bribed - or even made to feel welcome - is an alien sensation for Ruvik. It's possible that some people have mistaken him for a partly-changed monster already, hood drawn down low, but not enough to fully obscure the deep, ugly scarring that covers the left side of his face, snaking down his pale body and chest all the way to below the waistband of his pants.
Still, he handles the the offerings with all the calm and grace he can muster, letting the people shake and shrink away as they hand off the pamphlets. After a while of collecting them, he stops for a time, leaning up against an alley wall to read through some of them.
Turning into monsters. It would be a lot more unbelievable if he hadn't seen far stranger monsters where he came from, springing from he depths of his own mind to hunt, to kill.
Out loud, he chuckles to himself, a mirthless sound.]
Three. - Minotaur
[It takes a lot to make Ruvik scream. He has been through hell and back, through fire, through torture...through more than most people can dream of. But the sensation of bone shifting against wiring, of horn twisting out against the rim of the glass plate covering the left half of his brain?
The sound that comes from his mouth is nothing short of an agonized howl, gray eyes clenched shut. Blood pours down the sides of his head, slick against his skin, and it's a struggle to stay upright - but then something in his feet gives with a pop and a crunch, sending him crumpling to the ground.
There is no getting to safety, to privacy. He is changing, here, now, right in the middle of the road.]
Ruvik | The Evil Within
[Being bribed - or even made to feel welcome - is an alien sensation for Ruvik. It's possible that some people have mistaken him for a partly-changed monster already, hood drawn down low, but not enough to fully obscure the deep, ugly scarring that covers the left side of his face, snaking down his pale body and chest all the way to below the waistband of his pants.
Still, he handles the the offerings with all the calm and grace he can muster, letting the people shake and shrink away as they hand off the pamphlets. After a while of collecting them, he stops for a time, leaning up against an alley wall to read through some of them.
Turning into monsters. It would be a lot more unbelievable if he hadn't seen far stranger monsters where he came from, springing from he depths of his own mind to hunt, to kill.
Out loud, he chuckles to himself, a mirthless sound.]
Three. - Minotaur
[It takes a lot to make Ruvik scream. He has been through hell and back, through fire, through torture...through more than most people can dream of. But the sensation of bone shifting against wiring, of horn twisting out against the rim of the glass plate covering the left half of his brain?
The sound that comes from his mouth is nothing short of an agonized howl, gray eyes clenched shut. Blood pours down the sides of his head, slick against his skin, and it's a struggle to stay upright - but then something in his feet gives with a pop and a crunch, sending him crumpling to the ground.
There is no getting to safety, to privacy. He is changing, here, now, right in the middle of the road.]