[P] it's kinda hot though

[Toulouse]

toulouse All things considered, Toulouse was rather bored so far with this new world. Apart from his initial deposit onto the bleach and the treacherous climb to safety, he had yet to be truly challenged. He’d always considered himself to be a diamond: lovely and sparkling, yes, but even more importantly he could handle the pressure and the intense heat required to form such gemstones. Both were merely tools to him, a means to becoming more beautiful. He could, he would endure it all willingly. Beauty was pain, was it not? The thought brought a twisted smile to his pale lips, twirling a tendril of hair around his telekinetic grasp. Perhaps he should have been a god, what with his dashing looks and powers of persuasion. He had successfully tricked men and women alike into admiring him—and that was the purpose of any deities, was it not? To give the mortals a false sense of comfort while reaping the benefits of worship for their own selfish gain? It all sounded like a pretty good gig to Toulouse. “But a god of what?” he mused aloud to himself, sinking to his knees within a small cluster of aspen trees. The grass was a cool and soft bed, the trees casting a refreshing shade over his golden back. It was a picture perfect haven of relaxation—the only thing missing was an altar boy to feed him grapes. “Beauty, perhaps? I’m sure I could rival Persephone, and all those other fabled goddesses… don’t you agree?” The golden man had slipped into the habit of talking to himself recently, to make up for the loss of his proverbial shadow’s responses. Had he known better, he just might have admitted it was the loneliness finally getting to his head. As it was he simply ignored the practice altogether, choosing to pretend instead that it was normal. Or, better yet, to imagine that familiar figure beside him once more, every response in his head an actual conversation between the two of them. Even now he cast back and ear, allowing his eyes to drift sideways so that he might scrutinize his literal shadow, as if expected it to stand up and materialize into a breathing horse. “I agree, the younger generation really does need a role-model… a god as beautiful as us.” A small crystal vial appeared from one of the folds of his scarves, its cap unscrewing in the air to spill a rosy-hued liquid down the line of his crest. The scent of roses filled the air as he began working the oil through his unruly tresses. For a few moments he was quiet, focused on his beauty care. He hated to think what the sun and heat might be doing to his hair. The oil helped prevent harm, it was true, but he was running out quickly. And Novus was still a foreign land to Toulouse who had yet to see a market stand set up, let alone one selling perfumes and hair care. He wondered, did they even know what such things were here? Admittedly, the few other souls he’d encountered had flaunted less than stellar personal hygiene…  He tossed his mane back over his shoulders, so that it hung long and curled over his withers, the vial of oil disappearing back from whence it had come. “I’ll be honest, it would seem that they could use someone like me here.” He cocked his head thoughtfully then, suddenly intrigued by the way the light danced through the leaves overhead. “…Only to help them, of course.” the motherland don't love you, the fatherland don’t love you. so why love anything? the faithless; they don't love you the zealous hearts don’t love you. and that's not gonna change. ut deo. @reichenbach <3 ”here am I!”

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