"It's a nice house," Zack said, sending a tentative little smile the priest's way inbetween bites of bacon and eggs. The food was a lot better than anything he'd managed to get his hands on since he came to the town. If it had been up to him, he would rather have forgone eating human food entirely, but since it was such a big part of life on the streets he'd decided he needed to keep up appearances. Appearances that led him to stand in line for ages in the freezing rain for a bowl of stew of indeterminate origin that he then had to pretend to want to eat. No, at least this food wasn't a chore to swallow and it left him with a pleasantly warm feeling.
He lets his eyes light up when the priest brings out the syrup. He wasn't particularly fond of sweet things, but humans seemed to thrive on it. He smothered his pancake in the sticky substance and made sure not to show a smile on his face when the priest tried to pry some information out of him. This was exactly why he had spent those miserable weeks building his cover story, and he didn't hesitate to spin his tale in between sickly-sweet bites of breakfast.
"Well, I moved around, really," he said hesitantly. "Not that easy to find a place that'll have you, let alone for more than one night." He casts his eyes down to his plate for a moment, as if overtaken by memories. There were more than a few nights spent huddling in in some alcove, of course, and plenty of other tramps should be able to tell the priest about that. The more tragic part of his story would be formed by the nights where he had traded his body for a place to sleep, a meal to eat. To him it had been the most natural thing he'd done for the past month, but to a human it would probably seem like exploitation of the worst kind. Even as an incubus it wasn't optimal. Sure, he could take what he need from the arse end of humanity, but their energy was... tainted. He lived off desire, and those people didn't do what they did out of desire.
"It... it was fine, really," he said weakly before starting on his pancakes again. He put on a brave smile as he looked at the priest again. "I'm not a kid or anything and I know how to take care of myself." He paused, considering the vivid bruises that were still adorning his head and body. "Heh, well mostly anyway. Besides, I managed to get here, didn't I?"
He lets his eyes light up when the priest brings out the syrup. He wasn't particularly fond of sweet things, but humans seemed to thrive on it. He smothered his pancake in the sticky substance and made sure not to show a smile on his face when the priest tried to pry some information out of him. This was exactly why he had spent those miserable weeks building his cover story, and he didn't hesitate to spin his tale in between sickly-sweet bites of breakfast.
"Well, I moved around, really," he said hesitantly. "Not that easy to find a place that'll have you, let alone for more than one night." He casts his eyes down to his plate for a moment, as if overtaken by memories. There were more than a few nights spent huddling in in some alcove, of course, and plenty of other tramps should be able to tell the priest about that. The more tragic part of his story would be formed by the nights where he had traded his body for a place to sleep, a meal to eat. To him it had been the most natural thing he'd done for the past month, but to a human it would probably seem like exploitation of the worst kind. Even as an incubus it wasn't optimal. Sure, he could take what he need from the arse end of humanity, but their energy was... tainted. He lived off desire, and those people didn't do what they did out of desire.
"It... it was fine, really," he said weakly before starting on his pancakes again. He put on a brave smile as he looked at the priest again. "I'm not a kid or anything and I know how to take care of myself." He paused, considering the vivid bruises that were still adorning his head and body. "Heh, well mostly anyway. Besides, I managed to get here, didn't I?"