Erato

[It's night in Erato and the sound of irregular boot steps can be heard darting over plush carpet and lacquered hardwood floors. One might even see the flash of a worn red leather cape in the corner of their eye, or smell the faint trace of rum, gunpowder and sea salt on the air for a lingering second. They may even exotic parrot feathers laying on the floor and God only knows where that came from.]

[Tonight, the Legendary Pirate Stampede flees from his would-be captors, a wicked grin on his lips and the fire of a challenge in his green eyes, he dashes from alcove to alcove and room to room. A wild man of the sea would never be captured easily, even when that wild man wanted to be caught.]

[What's a man of God doing in a place like this? Arriving a week late, it seems. He sits on some steps in a small courtyard, a large cloth wrapped cross by his side and a cigarette between his fingers. He's gazing up at the moon, finding it peculiar that only one hangs in the sky and what's even more peculiar is how vivid the blue light shining down happens to be.]

((ooc: A tasty preacher, Nicholas D. Wolfwood of Trigun Maximum, open to be snacked on and assaulted by any fiends wandering by. Feel free to go particularly rough on him.))

[The difference is evident before Conrad fully awakens, the way the sheet falls and the way his body is so compact, curled up and laying on his side. He sits up quickly, fearing danger, the sheet falling away to pool in his lap -- and, by the way it brushes bare skin or the change in center of gravity, it's all too obvious what's happened. Almost against his will, he looks down.]

( isn't it amazing, how easy the shift in pronouns... )

((OOC: *hangs head* Yeah, I know. I'm not normally one to do this but I've had a genderswap!Conrad rattling around in my head for a bit now so. Getting it out of my system, OUT. But if anyone is so inclined, het or femmeslash or whatever is great! Looking to explore him being a tad more emotional here, so be aware.))