Information
Miroslav
Legacy Name: Miroslav
The
Reborn TelenineOwner:
TiramisuAge: 8 years, 9 months, 1 week
Born: August 8th, 2015
Adopted: 8 years, 9 months, 1 week ago
Adopted: August 8th, 2015
Statistics
- Level: 6
- Strength: 14
- Defense: 10
- Speed: 11
- Health: 10
- HP: 10/10
- Intelligence: 40
- Books Read: 40
- Food Eaten: 0
- Job: Darkmatter Babysitter
"Don't concern yourself, little master, you know it will be over soon enough."
An old demon from the days of the war that made the wasteland the way it is now, Miroslav has been something of a lazy drifter, surviving and simply killing those that crossed him, which earned him the attention of, and much to his personal amusement, eventually the employment of Yaeger. For a while, he served at Yaeger's side, as he was lethally effective at slaughtering wasteland bandits and thieves, and wasn't shy about teaching the boy a few tricks of his trade. But eventually, he was given a new assignment. Protecting Yaeger's best (and one of his only true) friend, Bedlam.
No matter what he thought of the job, he had grown to like Yaeger, so he agreed; using his grasp of old world manners and suave look to woo Bedlam's religious and wealthy family into hiring him as their butler.
One of the many perks of Bedlam's attic retreat was that it was quiet. Mostly; though he could hear the murmurings of activity in the household below, they were highly unlikely to come up here and Miroslav knew that well. Reclining in an old Victorian chair, a book open across his crossed knees, he was only half listening to the futile murmurings of the priest that was locked in Lam's room with him.
"I bid thee, cast out thine demons and return to the path of the righteous!"
Miro did not need to be in there to know the scene, though he found himself rather wishing he could have been this time; Lam strapped down to his bed, should he convulse or a demon take over in an attempt to do away with the priest, the old, foolish man pressing an old, crumbling book to the boy's chest as though doing holy CPR.
If only the fools knew. That quiet boy didn't have a demon inside him. Miro absently ran a hand through his sleek white hair as his eyes skimmed the pages of his book, feeling the little nubs for his horns kept carefully beneath. No, no demon inside him. Just in his house.
Seeing as the old man didn't seem ready to give up on exorcising the boy that didn't need an exorcism anytime soon, Miro slowly let out a sigh and, pinching his book by the spine, put it aside on a low table and stood with grace. Straightening his uniform, he approached the door and opened it as though it were never locked, with one firm twist of the handle.
Crimson eyes were narrowed and fixed upon the - startled - priest as both he and Lam turned from their fixations; the priest's being Lam, and Lam's appearing to have been the ceiling, to look at him.
"My apologies for the interruption, but I believe this circus has gone on long enough. If you haven't seen a change by now, you won't." A small smile that carried much meaning curved the man's lips as he, without further question, simply approached to undo Lam's bindings. "It is time for my young master's dinner, and I cannot permit you to keep him any longer. Though we thank you for your time, Father."
Wasted though it may be.