[It's Sanguis, and for the first time in a long time, Jotaro hasn't wound up a wolf; instead of the now-familiar feral rumblings he's generally grown accustomed to dealing with for the first five days of the month, he's back to being a dragon again.
It's not altogether bad, really. The dragon is calmer than the wolf is, for the most part. It's quieter, more confident, because it has no reason not to be. Why should it? It's an apex predator, threatened by nothing, with plenty of room to be hedonistic and languid.
So, when the knock at the door comes, he stalks easily to the door and opens it without hesitation. On his head, a pair of ridged horns extend out and back, disguised at the base by his thick curls, his hat fitted neatly between them. The armored scales he's developed are almost ethereally beautiful, resembling black fire opal — each one jet black until the light hits it and sets off starbursts of color within.
Unchanged, or seemingly so, are his eyes — still green, but now unnaturally so. Green with magic and with power. There's something different about his voice, too. It's silkier, more weighty despite being so smooth.
Funny how Trevor is so hung up on the possibility of vampire compulsion, and yet here it is in a faint and benign form — silver threads through a honeyed voice, warm and easy to obey.]
Hi. Guess you found the place okay, huh.
[The interior of the apartment smells like something's been cooking. Meat, absolutely. Something rich and hearty.]
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It's not altogether bad, really. The dragon is calmer than the wolf is, for the most part. It's quieter, more confident, because it has no reason not to be. Why should it? It's an apex predator, threatened by nothing, with plenty of room to be hedonistic and languid.
So, when the knock at the door comes, he stalks easily to the door and opens it without hesitation. On his head, a pair of ridged horns extend out and back, disguised at the base by his thick curls, his hat fitted neatly between them. The armored scales he's developed are almost ethereally beautiful, resembling black fire opal — each one jet black until the light hits it and sets off starbursts of color within.
Unchanged, or seemingly so, are his eyes — still green, but now unnaturally so. Green with magic and with power. There's something different about his voice, too. It's silkier, more weighty despite being so smooth.
Funny how Trevor is so hung up on the possibility of vampire compulsion, and yet here it is in a faint and benign form — silver threads through a honeyed voice, warm and easy to obey.]
Hi. Guess you found the place okay, huh.
[The interior of the apartment smells like something's been cooking. Meat, absolutely. Something rich and hearty.]
C'mon in. Take your shoes off at the door.