(no subject)
[Sometimes when the dressing room pulls it's new citizens to it, they kick opens doors. Or arrive in the middle of a fight. Or perhaps if they're the type to make a statement, a ceiling is crashed down through. All of these methods are fine and good, but Tyki has his own way of doing things.
There's a burst of blinding light, the sound of angelic voices, and a feeling that floods the area. A feeling that's close to purity, something holy and strong and quite possibly overwhelming. And then in a heartbeat the light and aura are gone, leaving in it's wake a Tyki in priest's garb. Feathers fall around him as he takes a step forward, folding sets of wings against his back as he does so. His expression is gentle, patient. And he seems to be the poster child for holier than thou religious types.
And then the illusion of perfection is gone as he reaches into his robes, and pulls out a flask. He'll need a drink to deal with this mess he's gotten himself into.]
There's a burst of blinding light, the sound of angelic voices, and a feeling that floods the area. A feeling that's close to purity, something holy and strong and quite possibly overwhelming. And then in a heartbeat the light and aura are gone, leaving in it's wake a Tyki in priest's garb. Feathers fall around him as he takes a step forward, folding sets of wings against his back as he does so. His expression is gentle, patient. And he seems to be the poster child for holier than thou religious types.
And then the illusion of perfection is gone as he reaches into his robes, and pulls out a flask. He'll need a drink to deal with this mess he's gotten himself into.]