Aras had woken up in the morning with a sense of urgency. Some sort of need to do something. It had been too long since he had gone outside, mostly due to the events that he had been getting into as of late. He had spent some time in his own apartment trying to let God take the depression and harmful thoughts out of his mind and had taken up meditation to try and think of ways to return His favors. That morning, however, filled him with the passion to tread outside into the world and continue his own personal journey to try and spread God's word to the masses. Every new day brought more disturbing news of sin and hatred around him, leaving him with no other choice but to take matters into his own hands and try and bring any sense of good remaining back to the people around him. Plus... the rent was due in a few days.

Gathering up his robes and cross, he set out into the streets of New York, scoping the area for some higher ground to stand on and begin his self-appointed sermon. Various places presented themselves, yet not enough to consider using as a stepping stone to begin his teachings. After some time he finally found one; a barrier put up ahead of some roadwork. The construction crew had apparently gone on break or stopped working, as no work was being done, leaving enough silence in that area that his voice could resonate throughout the immediate area. Seeing no guards or threats to him getting in trouble, he made his way over through the crowd of people to the desired barrier and climbed on top of it.

The barrier was big enough for him to him to stand on, yet still required a bit of balance to stand on. The event of him climbing on the barrier was enough of an oddity to gain a few headturns and fewer stops. He walked along the top of the barrier and stopped somewhere along the middle. He set himself on a position and pulled out a hat from his robe, dropping it to the ground as source to collect any donations people were generous to give out to him. Balancing himself and catching his breath, he raised his hands and began to speak.

"Children of God! People of the world, please listen here! Please take time out of the day to hear my words and take heed of what I fear for this race!" More people had stopped, though some continued onwards with a roll in their eyes. "People of this world, look around yourselves. Look at what has become of your neighbors, your friends, your own brethren! People of God dying in the streets, brothers and sisters weeping in pain! My brothers and sisters, this is not only existent here! Around the world, atrocities against men and women exist of ALL beliefs. Suffering still exists in this world and people seem confused of the cause, scapegoating each other and wrongfully hurting each other! People; the cause exists right before our eyes! Are you all so blind to see it?"

Martyr had glanced down at his hat to see the accumulated dollar and change that had grown unnoticed. He nodded and grinned to himself before looking up and noticing a few more people had stopped. He continued with his sermon, his next idea flowing from his mind to his lips.

"Now, my brothers and sisters, who is to blame? Who is the cause of all of this? Many politicians and thinkers pin the blame on these 'mutants.' Nonsense! What are mutants? Are they not humans as well? People, mutants are not mutants, only beings divinely gifted with powers beyond most comprehension. I am one of them, yet I dislike, nay, REJECT the title of a mutant. All I am is a man who can spread HIS word; GOD'S word! All I am is a man who is to remind you all of the temptations of Lucifer! Sin, my brethren! SIN! All those who go against Go-" He was unable to finish his thought as a dissenting voice from the crowd suddenly interrupted his voice from the crowd below.

"f*** God! He doesn't even exist, dumbass!"

Aras stood still as those words rang out. Inside of his body, rage began to build as his hatred at the ignorance of which the voice ejected. Yet, he remained calm. He lifted his head, looking for the source of the voice. He quickly found it as a group of "punksters," multicolored hair and tight clothing in all, stood around together sharing a chuckle at the expense of Aras. Their chuckles further fueled the fire within his conscious. He stopped his sermon and decided on an action to take. He simply smirked and raised his arm towards the group as a sign to come closer to him.

"Would you like to help me prove you wrong, sir?"

Susan walked down the street wrapped in an oversize winter coat that kept out the cold, and several layers of thoughts that kept out everything else. She was wearing sunglasses, although they always attracted some strange, whispering glances in the mid-winter twilight, but not as many as her constantly changing eye color. She'd been practicing in front of the mirror, trying to keep her senses in check. Not much success so far.
She was not going anywhere in particular. In the past few weeks she'd learned the best way to find answers - or, even better, new questions - was to just walk down a street and keep looking. Listening. Smelling. Touching. Tasting.

"Now, my brothers and sisters, who is to blame? Who is the cause of all of this? Many politicians and thinkers pin the blame on these 'mutants.' Nonsense! What are mutants? Are they not humans as well? People, mutants are not mutants, only beings divinely gifted with powers beyond most comprehension. I am one of them, yet I dislike, nay, REJECT the title of a mutant. All I am is a man who can spread HIS word; GOD'S word! All I am is a man who is to remind you all of the temptations of Lucifer! Sin, my brethren! SIN!..."

The voice smelled like burning incense, and made the young witch sneeze. It was a very familiar scent. The voice, however, didn't sound familiar at all, and it somehow tasted more fresh, much more honest than the ones she used to hear at school. Stopping on the corner, Susan pushed the sunglasses up onto her forehead.
"You have to be kidding me." she murmured.

The young - man? monk? priest?... - was standing on a barrier, preaching about mutants and sins to the NYC crowd. For money, apparently. How original. And he also claimed he was a mutant.
Yeah, and I thought I was a witch.

"f*** God! He doesn't even exist, dumbass!"

Now that tasted like something rotten. Susan frowned, trying to get a hold of her senses before the experience turned even less pleasant.

"Would you like to help me prove you wrong, sir?"

Well, the young idiot was bold, she had to hand him that. Either that, or he had no idea where the situation was headed. As if he could prove anything to those morons. Susan folded her arms and leaned against the wall, watching.
She was really curious to see how all this would play out. Probably with someone getting hurt. The kid'd better hope he has useful mutant powers.

Aras' grin grew wider as he proposed his idea to the group, the man in the middle in particular. Large green mohawk, nose ring on the left, tattoos around his neck, skinny shirt and jean jacket and pants fitting the normal attire of the "punk" culture. The man seemed amused by Aras and his bold statement. He shared a few more chuckles, in between cracks of the gum in his mouth, with his group before beginning to approach.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever you think you can prove, I'll be glad to help destroy, punk."

Punk? But isn't he a... forget it. Aras' mind wondered many things as he hopped down from his barricade and awaited the man to come closer. As he did, Aras realized he had underestimated his height, as the man seemed to tower over him, almost as if to intimidate the young preacher. The punkster spit his gum to the side nearby the shoes of some woman and smirked at Aras, feeling as if he could scare the boy.

"So, what're you gonna do, punk? Hit me? Are ya gonna make me praise the Lord Jeeeezuz?" The man's tone screamed with sarcasm and mockery. The group behind him laughed and seemed amused by the whole ordeal.

"In fact," he continued, "that's exactly what I plan to do. Before the entire crowd before me, I will make sure that you do not go home without feeling the wrath of our Lord Jesus Christ. You will truly feel th-"

"OH SHUT UP, MAN!" The group behind the punkster laughed harder at the disrespectful humor shown. "If you're gonna sock me, just do it. C'mon, right here," he leaned in and slapped his chin with his two fingers, "right in the fucking kisser."

Sock... him? What language does he speak? Oh well... Aras smiled and shook the sleeves of his robe down to his elbows and placed his hands on the cheeks of the punksters face. "Well, I was going to ask for your arm, but... if you insist...."

"What the hell? I thought God didn't like queers."

"Benedictus es Domine Deus patrum nostrorum.
Et laudabilis et gloriosus in saecula.
Et benedictum nomen gloriae tuae, quod es sanctum.
Et laudabile et gloriosum in saecula."

[Blessed art Thou, the Lord God of our fathers.
And glorious and to be praised for all ages.
And blessed is the name of Thy glory, which is holy.
And glorious and to be praised for all ages. ]

Aras' voice rang clear yet intense throughout the crowd. The purity of his voice stunned many, apparently including the punkster of which he held contact with, for it was then that the punkster quited down. Not for long though, as during the chant, the punkster seemed to try and amuse the others with more taunts.

"So the bitch can sing, huh? So what, I feel nothing. Where's your God now, you little piece of shi-AHHHHHHH AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" The screams of the man pierced the Heavens and surely through Hell below as his face became red with pain from the fiery flames of sin burning within him. "OH GOD, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU- AH!- DOING TO ME!?!?"

"What's that? Is that GOD'S name I hear from your mouth?" Aras' eyes beamed into the soul of the man, now fallen below him to his knees from the excruciating pain he felt upon his face. "Do you believe now? What you feel now is the TRUE feeling Lucifer can bring! Suffering! PAIN! WILL YOU REPENT BEFORE THE LORD NOW? YOU HAVE ALREADY SUBMITTED TO ME! NOW SUBMIT TO THE LORD OUR SAVIOR ON YOUR KNEES!"

Aras seemed to have lost himself in the moment of the man's redemption of sin, as he did not notice the group of punkster behind the man preparing chains and switchblades to regain their friend from the clutches of God. Aras would not care, as he only cared about truly making the man repent for his earlier blasphemy before the Lord.

Susan's curiosity mounted as she watched the show. She could not blame the punks for playing along. Impressive. The young man was either the most devoted person she'd ever seen, or he was very good at pretending. She almost hoped it would be the latter. Devotion did not agree well with her lately.

"Benedictus es Domine Deus patrum nostrorum.
Et laudabilis et gloriosus in saecula.
Et benedictum nomen gloriae tuae, quod es sanctum.
Et laudabile et gloriosum in saecula."

Susan's lips moved along with the words against hell will. She knew her Latin, and apparently he did too. There was something about his voice. Susan's eyes turned black as she watched the crystal clear waves of sound engulf the audience. She took a few steps closer to get a better look...

"OH GOD, WHAT THE f*** ARE YOU- AH!- DOING TO ME!?!?"

The corner of Susan's lips curled upwards. That's more like it.
Eyes turning red she confirmed what she suspected a moment before - the red-hot burning marks on the punk's face and the priest's hands. Firemancer? Nice touch.
He managed to piss of a whole pack of thugs.

"Do you believe now? What you feel now is the TRUE feeling Lucifer can bring! Suffering! PAIN! WILL YOU REPENT BEFORE THE LORD NOW? YOU HAVE ALREADY SUBMITTED TO ME! NOW SUBMIT TO THE LORD OUR SAVIOR ON YOUR KNEES!"

Okay, the holy man was a whackjob. That didn't mean he deserved to die like he was about to. Susan let out a small sigh as she pocketed her sunglasses. It felt like since she learned about the X-gene people kept showing up and getting tangled in her life. Only real witches get to operate alone and undisturbed.

"No need to yell, honey, I'm right here." she smirked as she stepped up beside the kid, eyes turning black once again. The world swam with shades and colors - most of all the angry crimson yelling of the punk and the almost-gold voice of the priest, above a flock of vicious cold-blue clinks of metal.
Looking at the punks who seemed to be surprised at the sudden appearance of a young lady, Susan raised her chin. "What are you all looking at? Never seen a demon before? Sorry gentleman, I have a soul to take. Wait for your turn, it won't be long."
Grabbing the priest by the scruff of his neck, she dragged the kid towards the closest street corner. Innocent bystanders - at least those who still stayed once the weapons appeared - stood aside to let them through.
"It's either me or the switchblades, mister." she grunted as she marched away from the scene "Keep your hands to yourself and I am not going to hurt you."

Aras' feelings of joy as he showed the man his sinful fate were removed in a flash as his body was pulled away from the punkster. His immediate reaction was that it was the man's buddies preparing to rough him up. Turning to the mysterious assailant, hands ready to redeem their sins as well for protectiong, the pure shock of his misjudgment caused him to freeze in place. The lone girl, her eyes truly the representation of her dark nature, froze him with her glare, and shocked him even more with her gentle yet stern tone.

"It's either me or the switchblades, mister. Keep your hands to yourself and I am not going to hurt you."

Switchbl... His mind could not complete the thought as his eyes immediately shifted to the group of punksters who clearly revealed her notion. He nodded his head in agreement as he understood her notion. Still, his eyes traveled back to the eyes of the girl; black, true darkness. He could only semi-recapture her speaking before hand, only the word "DEMON" dcreatching from his memory. Sensing that she had known his gift and was determined to rid him of his quest, he sharply sighed and stared her down.

"So you're a demon, huh? Figured, only the wretched mind of Lucifer himself could come up with a look such as yours. So what are you here for; my soul? Take it as you wish, it's as pure as Christ himself, and at no time could you weaken my will to your level." He figured his words were a bit harsh, considering how she was kindly trying to help him. Yet, he could not resist; she had deprived him of relieving the sin of the man now rolling on the ground in pain. His mouth slid a sly grin at the sight before turning his attentionback to the girl who grabbed him, her eyes bringing concern about him again.

"Yet, in all seriousness... why are you helping me?"

Susan only stopped when they turned the corner, and then soon another one, just in case the punks decided they did not believe in demons. Dragging a priest by the scuff of his neck made her mood infinitely better. She'd wanted to do this for years. Not to this particular priest though.
Once they were well out of sight, she let him go, and sunk her hands into her pockets. Her eyes had long shifted back to normal, for very practical reasons - there was no one left to intimidate and she needed to see where she was going.
"So you're a demon, huh? Figured, only the wretched mind of Lucifer himself could come up with a look such as yours. So what are you here for; my soul? Take it as you wish, it's as pure as Christ himself, and at no time could you weaken my will to your level."
Susan's lips curled up in a dark smile.
"I'm not a demon you bloody idiot, I'm a mutant like you. And for the record, if I was a demon I am sure I could find something to grab on. Hurting people in the name of God? Seriously?" she sighed, fishing the sunglasses out of her pocket and putting them on "Did you really think admitting you are a mutant and then burning someone's face off was going to convince them about anything? The only thing that's existence you proved is the X-gene on your 23rd chromosome. That's not religion, genius, that's genetics."
"Yet, in all seriousness... why are you helping me?"
Susan shrugged, and looked at the kid, tilting her head to the side, sizing him up.
"In all seriousness: I have no clue. Maybe because I got saved by a demon once too, when true believers like you tried to exorcise my genetic code."
She smirked at him, and the smirk tasted sweet and sour.
"And I hate punks."

The quest for Juka's return to performing was in progress full swing and the first step on the list was getting himself some new clothes. Not that his old clothes weren't completely fabulous, of course, but a new band meant a new look and a new look meant some new clothes. He was experimenting with his look somewhat. Instead of his usual vivid and bold colors, he opted for lighter colors today: A pastel blue dress accented with white and a black skirt underneath the dress that showed mostly when he was walking or twirling. His hair he wore up in elaborate fashion with pink ribbons and on his face he wore light blue lipstick with drawn swirly patterns around his eyes. Yes, he was both fabulous and beautiful and everywhere he looked he saw admiring (and sometimes shocked) eyes following his every move. Which was exactly as it should be.

Juka had only just entered the city proper, opting to go by taxi this time since it was too light out to safely float, when he spotted a mob of people gathered around a man speaking. Curious, he walked closer until he could hear what was so interesting to the masses and was rather shocked (and amused) to discover that the preacher seemed to be ranting about God and sin and mutants. Deciding that the man was clearly crazy, although a weirdly charismatic kind of crazy, when things suddenly got a whole lot more interesting. As part of some sort of demonstration, the crazy ranting man took a volunteer from the crowd and caused him to scream in agony at his mere touch. The act caused Juka to stick around. If a mutant was involved, crazy or not, then it might just be more worth while than he expected.

Unfortunately the mob surrounding the man didn't take anywhere near as kindly to the man's little display as Juka had and, quite the contrary, seemed angry to the point of violence. The chance to prove whether he was right or not was never manifested, as a second person appeared, a woman and apparently a demon, and dragged the ranting crazy man off. He had a feeling the woman was not a demon but more likely a second mutant.

And of course, there was only one thing to do when confronted by a ranting religious nut and a mutant demon and that was to follow them. Disengaging himself from the angry mob, skirts swaying around him, Juka followed.

"I'm not a demon you bloody idiot, I'm a mutant like you. And for the record, if I was a demon I am sure I could find something to grab on. Hurting people in the name of God? Seriously?"

"Oh, I knew you both must be mutants," Juka announced as soon as he was within hearing distance of the others and out of hearing distance of the mob. "You sure did make that mob angry," Juka informed the man, most helpfully he thought.

Aras' ears shifted up when the girl responded in the same sort of tone that he had given her. Not of him to complain, as his temper was still riled from the meeting before, and now is getting even more riled from this particular individual. Her mention of mutants drowned his hope of a friendly conversation. He listened to her rant about it some more before responding with his point, at this point being repeated from his earlier sermon.

"Well, that would all be true if mutants exist. See, let me expl-"

His point was cut off with more words from the girl, as well as the entering of a male voice. Different from the punk from before, who should still be in a great deal of pain from his redemption, Aras turned his head, though his eyes did not meet what his mind has perceived. His eyes saw the wicked, vile sight of a man dressed as a woman, a "cross-dresser" to society and a "abomination" to other of Aras' beliefs. Him pointing out how angry the others in the crowd had become due to his riddance of sin. Aras shrugged off the remark and rolled his eyes.

"A cross-dresser and a demon... either God's testing me again or I've become Lucifer's favorite target... maybe I'm doing a better job than I thought." He sighed and shook his head again, noticing that the girl had grip of his robe. Ah, can't quite cause a distraction yet. In due time, though. Sensing his need to speak, he went for it.

"So... people like me tried exorcising you, huh? Well, that's quite understandable, considering how you consider yourself something not deserving of the gift God gave to you, or are Satan's little plaything on earth. Both of you should be ashamed of calling yourselfs anything other than human beings... Hell! That's what's causing most of the suffering in this world. "Mutants" and the idea that they are either better or worse than everyone else. Forgive my inquiries, but isn't that how slavery was kept alive for so long?" Aras tried not to feel any sort of happyness for inquiring that, yet he couldn't help but feel confident in the words he spoke.

"At the very least... I thank you for getting me out of there, though. My mind had been so concentrated on my work that I didn't notice the reactions from the 'punks' that were behind him. I should keep that in check next time someone tries what he did again. Mistakes always happen, afterall."

"Well, that would all be true if mutants exist. See, let me expl-"
The arrival of the... uniquely dressed individual drew Susan's attention too. In the moments before, she was getting annoyed at the preacher, but now her curiosity found something new to deal with. Pushing the sunglasses onto her forehead once again, she stared at the newcomer. Her eyes swam black again, and it only took a minute. There it was. The weird, opalescent buzzing sound generated by the X-gene. Another mutant. What was his power? Gender change?...
"A cross-dresser and a demon... either God's testing me again or I've become Lucifer's favorite target... maybe I'm doing a better job than I thought."
This was starting to get annoyingly familiar. The priest was younger and definitely less good-looking than her ex-roommates, not to mention more male, but he was thinking the same way: someone with black eyes and a lick of sense can only be a demon and nothing else. Susan sighed and rolled her eyes.
"So... people like me tried exorcising you, huh? Well, that's quite understandable, considering how you consider yourself something not deserving of the gift God gave to you, or are Satan's little plaything on earth...
Now he did it. He really did it. Susan felt the familiar metallic taste of anger in her mouth as she whipped around to face the preacher once again.
"Now listen up, you fool, because I'm not going to repeat this. I spent the past four years of my life in a Roman Catholic boarding school for girls, and I've had it up to here with people like you. Answering your question: no, slavery was kept alive so long by people like you who believe physical traits like eye color are any indication of a person's nature."
Eyes turning red in anger, the puffs of warm breath escaping the priests's lipc looked amusingly sulfur-colored. Susan frowned.
"My mutant ability is synesthesia, it's a neurologically-based condition in which stimulation of one sensory or cognitive pathway leads to automatic, involuntary experiences in a second sensory or cognitive pathway. Got that? I can see, hear, smell, feel and taste what you are. Religious experience does not generate sensory response. Your body does. You know, for years I really hoped I was a witch. Turns out I'm a mutant. You are too. Cry me a river, and deal with it."
Susan drew breath for the first time since she'd started the rant. It tasted sweet.
"If you want to go with your logic against mine, by all means, bring it on."
Folding her arms, she stepped back, and glared at the priest. She didn't look to see how the cross-dresser reacted. She didn't really care.

"A cross-dresser and a demon... either God's testing me again or I've become Lucifer's favorite target... maybe I'm doing a better job than I thought."

During the weeks that Juka had been trapped in his bubble he had learned something about human nature. He had learned that many of them feared and hated mutants and sometimes he coudln't blame them. After all, there were some very bad and very dangerous mutants in the world. He had also learned that mutants were considered freaks by many. All of this he had known before his experience of being trapped in his bubble, of course, but but he hadn't known in on a visceral personal level. He knew what it must be like for those mutants that couldn't' hide what they were. But he also knew that there were many humans in the world that were completely accepting of mutants and wanted them to live as equals. The good and the bad and every shade of grey in between. That was how the world worked, there wasn't a black and white good and evil, it was all in how you looked at it. Even Aura, horrible and callous though she was, wasn't all evil because he saw why she did what she did.

What Juka hadn't encountered, during all his time in his bubble and in life in general, was a mutant who appeared to hate and fear other mutants. This crazy preacher character seemed to be just such a person. And while he daily encountered people that didn't really appreciate the way he dressed (there loss really) he had yet to encounter the kind of bile that came from this judgmental little man.

"Now listen here, you distasteful little man." Juka put his hands on his hips and pit every bit of the dislike he felt for the man into his voice. "First of all, there is absolutely nothing wrong with dressing as one feels like it. I think you are clearly jealous of my confidence and individuality. Not all of us wish to dwell in tedium and mediocrity. Second of all, don't you dare start judging this lovely woman here and accusing her of being a demon. You know nothing about her and you don't have the right." Of course, he knew nothing about her either except for the fact that she wasn't a demon, but that wasn't the point. "Don't try to project your numerous insecurities and personal failings on the rest of us. Deal with your own problems and get over yourself. You are not that special and your ego is far too overinflated for your own good!" Something that he had been accused of as well, in his time, but also not the point.

"Now listen up, you fool, because I'm not going to repeat this. I spent the past four years of my life in a Roman Catholic boarding school for girls, and I've had it up to here with people like you. Answering your question: no, slavery was kept alive so long by people like you who believe physical traits like eye color are any indication of a person's nature."

Now that was something that Juka could relate to. His parents hadn't been overly religious, but as proper Japanese business people they did have to keep up appearances and that meant dealing with all sorts of judgments. Maybe he hadn't been called a demon, but he had certainly been belittled and made to feel like a lesser person. He gave the woman a sympathetic look.

"Clearly neither of us want your preaching or your self righteous attitudes. What makes you so special anyway?" He glared at the man.

Aras' new acquaintances seemed to have truly teamed up on him. Just as expected. Both seemed threatened by the fact that he was overly-anxious with his beliefs. He had noticed it too; first going and starting a sermon, and now letting his beliefs turn others against him. Aras tilted his head as the two spoke and easily formulated arguments against them. They were too easy. And yet... he didn't speak. The cross-dresser had been the more annoying one, using more insulting arguments than actual reason, while the girl had been more ignorant about his past compared to hers. It wasn't her fault, though, and Aras didn't want to suddenly go into unneeded history. He sighed and reasoned that he should probably not instigate another issue. He waited for the two to finish their preachings before continuing.

"Firstly, you." He motioned his head towards the cross-dresser. "Whatever insecurities you believe I have are simply mistaken as acts of faith. What am I to be insecure about when I've only spent a year outside of the home I come from. I go out, make money, spread His word, go home, pray and sleep. From what I understand even in the non-believers book that is a secure living. So before you judge on me, make sure you understand that I only judge you from my teachings. You believe I despise you, yet I would only do so for what you have said so far, NOT what you look like. I only let God judge you on that; it is simply not my position to do so."

"And as for you," motioning to the girl, "whatever 'torture' you believe you went through for four years should really not fall into place. I'm sure if you went through the life I've gone through now, you'd be in a psychward instead of roaming the streets calling yourself a demon. I have already thanked you for what you have done today, so I will not do it again/ However, I will NOT take such ignorant backtalk by some girl, demon, mutant or otherwise. You're gifts are of no need of explanation, for I am a believer that there are others like me out there in the world. I have seen them."

"And if you had ACTUALLY listened to my words, you would know my view on the label of 'mutant' extended further beyond my religious beliefs. I despise the term because it has become a label only fueled by pain. There are those out there who wish to rid the world of non-gifted solely for that reason. That is why I bring up slavery, cause it is THEY as well who judge on appearence and inner-traits. It is a HUMAN quality we all share, not just me. My goal is to rid the world of this overly positive and negative views of our kind and bring truth to the world that ALL humans are equal under God. Even if you don't believe in my teachings, I'm sure you both can accept that.

"And as for me being special," Aras continued as he turned to the cross-dresser, "I'm not. I simply am a human doing God's work. What makes you so special. Your confidence in apperance? Pfft. Everyone has their doubts."

Aras sighed and lowered his head, leaining against the wall and looking outwards. "Now... to be fair. I must apologize. I... seem to have gotten ahead of myself this time and let my temper flare. I am not one to do that unless I have my beliefs questioned. I don't mean to be rude, just honest about how I feel. I'm sorry if my views disturbed you... I just needed to vent about my frustration with the people on this earth at this time."

Susan took several deep breaths to calm herself down; anger was not optimal for logical reasoning, and she liked having her head on straight. Through the slowly settling fog of annoyance, one thought got through to her.
Did he just call me "lovely woman"?...
That was a first.

She listened to the preacher's answer; he seemed to be calming down too. Good. She didn't like arguing with religious people.
"Now... to be fair. I must apologize. I... seem to have gotten ahead of myself this time and let my temper flare. I am not one to do that unless I have my beliefs questioned. I don't mean to be rude, just honest about how I feel. I'm sorry if my views disturbed you... I just needed to vent about my frustration with the people on this earth at this time."

Susan glanced at the cross-dresser before turning her attention back to the priest. On one hand she felt like giving him a hard time about the whole thing, or at least yell some more; she needed to vent too, hell she'd been needing it ever since she found out about her abilities. After a few moments of silence, she gave those plans up.
"I said I was a demon to keep them from attacking, genius. In case you haven't noticed, I am not exactly a warrior." she smirked; she was more quiet now, shaking her head in amused disbelief "Next time I'll tell them I'm your girlfriend, okay? Or your doctor at the mental institute. You pick."

With that said, Susan turned to the cross-dresser once again. He was weird, and colorful to all of her six senses, but at least he took her side in the argument.
"Susan Hyde." she said, extending a hand; formal introduction made her settle back into her usual awkward self "Nice to meet you."
Looking at the priest, she nodded.
"You too, preacher."

"Whatever insecurities you believe I have are simply mistaken as acts of faith. What am I to be insecure about when I've only spent a year outside of the home I come from. I go out, make money, spread His word, go home, pray and sleep. From what I understand even in the non-believers book that is a secure living. So before you judge on me, make sure you understand that I only judge you from my teachings. You believe I despise you, yet I would only do so for what you have said so far, NOT what you look like. I only let God judge you on that; it is simply not my position to do so."

The last thing that Juka had been expected was for the zealotous preacher to do an about face and actually begin being nice to him. Sure he still appeared to have a few screws loose and there was still an underlying sense of knowing more than the rest of them, but at least he was trying to be a little nicer and that was a marked improvement from how he had first acted. "Secure living isn't the same as feeling secure. Sounds to me like you've lived a pretty sheltered life. Here in the real world, there's more to life than survival and God. There's having a good time and making friends and performing and countless other things. If I had to guess, I'd say you don't have many friends."

The words weren't said with any sort of hostility, if anything they were tinged with sympathy and suddenly Juka did feel a bit sorry for the preacher. What must life be like if all you had to look forward to was prayer, sleep and work? Surely that couldn't' be much of a life. Could a person be happy with a life like that? Even a person as single minded as this poor boy seemed to be? Juka certainly didn't think so, though he'd been wrong about people before.

"And as for me being special. I'm not. I simply am a human doing God's work. What makes you so special. Your confidence in appearance? Pfft. Everyone has their doubts."

"Oh, you really don't know me well at all," Juka replied with a dazzling smile. Now that he felt he had deciphered a little about the enigmatic preacher, what he said no longer bothered him. "My confidence goes beyond appearance, my dear. I work very hard to ensure that I am the best I can be at everything I attempt, appearance included. Shouldn't I be proud of my accomplishments?" It was one of the few things that he had gained from his parents: the drive to be the best, even if what he attempted wasn't exactly what they would approve of. "And you also have every right to be proud of anything you accomplish. Why claim you're not special if you are?"

Juka turned to the woman, Susan. "And you, dearheart, are no demon and don't let anyone try to convince you otherwise." Juka bowed low towards the two of them. skirts billowing around his legs. "Juka Miami and it is my honor and privaledge to meet you both.

Aras' new reactions to the two had apparently accomplished the overall goal of taming the situation before it got out of hand. He had already used his power to prove to some punk that his words held no lie. From that alone his body had grown slightly weak, one reason why he preferred leaning against the cold brick wall instead of standing upright. The others had seemed to become happier with the cooler situation as well; they took the time to introduce themselves, the demon-like girl named Susan and the cross-dresser Juka, and both finished with slight nods to Aras in apparent pleasure of meeting him. Yeah, ok. One minute they were near willing to beat me, now I'm a pleasure to meet. Quite silly, I must say.

"To answer the newly given information, let me start by saying that, while I understand he good nature you had, saying that you are a demon while having black eyes around a man who takes the word of God so seriously might not have been the best idea, Susen." Aras chuckled along with the the statement, trying his best to give off no bad intentions. "I think claiming that you're a friend of mine would work nicely, you're eyes tend to be the selling point." Aras nodded his head and returned the greeting she had given Aras.

"And to reply to you, Juka," he turned his head to the cross-dresser and sighed as he tried to put words into proper context, "you're right. I have no friends on this earth. I'm not one to care much about this, however. So far, besides the two of you, the only people I've met in this city for more than a second all threatened my life and forced me to commit acts of which I'd rather not describe. And within the house of GOD no less!" He stopped. Abruptly. I need to let the actions of those three pass me by. I cannot let my mind be rotted by such images. May all of them roast in the fires of Hell at Lucifer's eternal dark glee. "I-I'm sorry; got carried away there. I am happy with the life I live. A simplistic life can sometimes be the best, after all." He stopped and smiled, nodding his head at his own words.

"Aras," he said almost out of instinct as the others exchanged names, "and a pleasure to meet you both as well. While it may not have started out great, I'm sure that since we now have things under control, we can all be good and well. To make up for the trouble I've caused, let me offer you some ice cream at my-"

He stopped suddenly as he turned back to where he preached and saw no hat with money lying on the ground. Damn. Those. Punks. He shuffled through his robes and hoped to find some sort of bill in the hidden pockets. Nothing. Quite embarrassed, he turned to the others and titled his head down in shame.

"I-I'm sorry... it seems as if I lost my money."

"And you, dearheart, are no demon and don't let anyone try to convince you otherwise."
The man/woman who called himself Juka Miami spoke to her in a way that tasted sweet. Syrup sweet. It was almost unbearable, but it tasted natural. No chemicals included. Susan was not sure what to think about that. Can someone really be honestly this... sweet? She licked her lips unconsciously, then caught herself and felt her cheeks turn a nasty color of pink. Licking lips was definitely a not decent reaction in public.
"To answer the newly given information, let me start by saying that, while I understand he good nature you had, saying that you are a demon while having black eyes around a man who takes the word of God so seriously might not have been the best idea, Susen. I think claiming that you're a friend of mine would work nicely, you're eyes tend to be the selling point."
Susan nodded. She did not really understand what was wrong with her plan, it was the best she could come up with on such a short notice, it worked (kind of), and it included mentioning demons, who she happened to know for a fact existed, at least in some mutation-related form. Apparently the preacher did not approve of said plan.
Blessed are those who get to pick who saves their hide from getting beaten.
"you're right. I have no friends on this earth. I'm not one to care much about this, however. So far, besides the two of you, the only people I've met in this city for more than a second all threatened my life and forced me to commit acts of which I'd rather not describe. And within the house of GOD no less!"
Susan winced, that revelation tasted sour, and it held much more than the words themselves. She could guess the preacher was lonely, Juka - who no doubt was much more social than she was, and thus could read peole infinitely better - was right about the friend issue.
Susan wondered what he read out of her.
"Aras, and a pleasure to meet you both as well. While it may not have started out great, I'm sure that since we now have things under control, we can all be good and well. To make up for the trouble I've caused, let me offer you some ice cream at my... I-I'm sorry... it seems as if I lost my money."
"Aras." Susan nodded, tilting her head, the name had a unique rust-red tinge to it. She followed his gaze as he looked around for the hat and the money that used to be in it.
"Never mind, I don't really have any either." she shrugged "You don't have to treat us to prove you are being friendly. But we should find another place to continue our conversation. I don't think I can scare them off twice in a row."
'Them', of course, being the punks of the neighborhood.