IT ALL ADDS UP TO THIS: THE HOLLOW CHEST, THE BRUISED NECK, THE SHAKING HANDS.
YOUR BODY, THE TRIUMVIRATE OF UNHOLY THINGS
Vulgaris used to think of himself as a monster, back when the curse first took up residence in him and covered his body in scales. He was just a child back then. The little colt cried out for his father and tried to chew the hideous flesh from his own legs, but they grew back every time. When he finally saw through the haze of his own self-loathing and felt something like love (but not quite love, not so genuine and sincere), he wanted to crush it between his teeth. He’s always wanted to destroy the things he could never truly have for himself. No one can ever take what’s his if it shatters into a hundred little pieces. No one can take what he devours.

But he’s grown since then. He’s learned to stop wanting quite so much. There’s restraint in his demands these days and he’s found a half-hearted tranquility in his adulthood they youth never afforded him. He turns his head when the younger one greets him, listens to his introduction. Khaedrik. The serpent turns to fully face the stranger and tilts his head a moment as he examines him. There’s something so hollow and forlorn in his smile but Vulgaris isn’t one to pry secrets from another’s mouth. Not today.

“Hello, Khaedrik,” he says, and his words are all campfire – warm, controlled, safe. “Where do you come from?”

Vulgaris assumes he means to recruit him to whatever lands he ventured here from. If not, though, it’s a decent conversation starter. Maybe he just wants to talk about something meaningless for a while instead. Somehow, idle talk always soothed his troubled mind and carried him away from his worries.

But then another stranger approaches and he can’t help but notice how vibrant she is, even among all the other odd colors around them. There is a tinge of jealousy budding in his heart. As if being cursed was not enough, the gods saw fit to make him a boring shade of gray on top of everything else they hurled his way. Merciless, truly. She’s saying her name and he quickly brushes the covetous thoughts from his mind. Better not make the lady repeat herself, he thinks.

“A pleasure to meet you, Rey,” he says with an easy smile spreading over his face. Despite the rows of sharp teeth, he’s charming. Many would even dare to call him handsome. “My name is Vulgaris.”

The pretty one makes a joke, though it nearly goes right over the serpent’s head. He offers a light laugh and shifts his weight as he grows more comfortable with them.

“And what about you, Rey of sunshine, where do you call home?” It’s probably too soon to flirt but he figures he’s not getting any younger. He turns his eyes to Khaedrik, though, examining his expression and searching his strange smile. In truth, he’s equally interested in what either has to say. They’re both so fascinating in such different ways.

VULGARIS
THERE WAS NOTHING MORE DIVINE THAN HAVING SINNED WITH YOU.