Ious

For teh contest:

Name: Ious
Full Name: Precious

Likes: Daylight/sunshine, bugs, clouds, rain, snow, cats, city night life, stars, trinkets, the human world

Dislikes: Food, absolute darkness, the feeling of wet grass on his bare feet, suicides, the smell of metal, chit-chat, long nails, Hell

Items:
Belt across his chest -- When he's in an area where there multiple people dying and going to Hell, he will bottle up the souls and keep them there until he returns to Hell to release them. It saves trips between the world of the living and the realm of the dead.
Note pad -- Because he can't talk, he communicates by means of pen and paper... think of it like a "death note"... ha ha ha...
Pin-wheel Scythe -- He didn't care for the idea of having a single sickle, so he stole a few fellow reaper's scythe heads and custom made his scythe into a pin-wheel. He enjoys looking at it very much.
The End of the Pin-wheel Scythe -- Because reapers travel between time, space, and dimentions, he was curious what would happen if he were to place the end of his scythe into the warp hole while he traveled around. The result was the knotted mass. When he's bored, he'll make and undo the knot at the end of his scythe multiple times.
3 Stars on Scythe Knot -- He likes stars... the end.
Lantern in right hand -- Because it's so dark in Hell, he has a lantern to escort souls around. It's powered by many fireflies. When the fireflies die, it gives him a good excuse to go back to the world of the living... to get more bugs.
Shnazzy pants -- While he was watching over a rave in Tokyo, he noticed one man in particular that had an amazing pair of pants. He also noticed the man was having an almost TOO good of a time and was energetic up until he had to use the restroom. Ious noticed that the man never came out of the bathroom. Infact, he collapsed between the sinks. Dead. Ious thought the man wouldn't be needing his pants, so, he selfishly took them as his oun. Friends and family were curious as to how and why their dear boy had passed away and was found in his boxers. Autopsy showed that the man died of an overdose of the drug "estacy."
The half Reaper Cloak -- Ious got a little clumsy one day when he was going through walls. Late at night in the human world, he decided to walk around as a perfectly visible being. He stood a little too close to the entrance of a train and got his robe snagged in it.
Fishnet shirt? -- He likes the feeling of many strings wrapped around his body... makes him feel secure.
No Shoes -- He doesn't care for the idea of shoes. It's not like he can collect any bacteria or diseases from the ground since he is a spirit. However, he doesn't like the feeling of wet grass on the bottom of his feet. Apparently, it feels like walking on teeth.

History: Why the Beartrap on his face
Every so often, when a beautiful woman's soul enters hell, Lucifer--king of the underworld--claims the soul and places it in a Regeneration Coffin. After 9 to 12 months he opens the coffin and there the woman's soul recreates her worldly figure. From then, Lucifer takes her body and indulges in humanly pleasure to reproduce another soul for his army of reapers and tainters. When the woman bore a new soul, Lucifer set it in the very same Regeneration Coffin as its mother and waited another 9 to 12 months for a body to formulate. Time passed. Lucifer and the soul's mother visited the Regeneration Coffin again. They quickly cracked open the cover of the casket and out plopped a slender, naked, CLEARLY male being. The youth tumbled into Lucifers arms as he tried to take his first step out of the coffin. His large red eyes blinked open for the first time and starred at his father. At that moment, Lucifer looked over his son's well-defined face: the perfectly toned skin, smooth around his cheek bones; a clean-cut, pointed chin; a pair of soft, glossy lips; and a nose pulled out to a perfect ramp. A feeling of anger swept across his body but he didn't react to it. He couldn't understand why he felt so frustrated. Pondering the reason, the mother helped the youth out of Lucifer's arms and held the boy in her oun on the ground. Lucifer stood dazed, gazing at the mother combing her fingers through her son's short, thick black hair.
"Precious." The woman whispered. "Absolutely precious." She held her son's head to her collar bone and rubbed her cheek on the top of his head. The blank look on the youth's face faded and changed to a small smile revealing a portion of a white canine. Lucifer left the woman and boy and came back with a black robe. Before handing the robe to his son, the Devil looked over his son's toned body. Even though the youth was partially curled in the fetal position, Lucifer could tell the boy had long legs--good for running--and a pack of abs chizzled to die for. As soon as the mother laid her lips on her son's forehead for a kiss, Lucifer threw the rob at the boy and snagged the woman up by her hair. She wailed in surprise and pain. Before the woman could bite her teeth together to bear the pain, Lucifer grabbed the bottom half of her jaw, keeping her mouth open.
"You are no longer needed here." He rasped. Effortlessly, he crammed his hand down the woman's throat and pulled out her beating heart. The heart turned pale and whiter as Lucifer squeezed the blood out of the muscle. While the blood gushed between Lucifer's fingers, the woman lied on her side staring at her son. A stream of tears trickled from her eyes and pooled in a puddle beside her head.
"-ious..." passed between her colorless lips. When the Devil opened his hand, there it was no longer a heart, but a bright light: a soul. He slipped the soul into his back pocket and licked the blood off his glistening hand.
"Can't have love in Hell." he sighed gritting his teeth. His eyes swept over towards his son, now on his hands and knees, lurking over his mother's corpse. The youth didn't understand it... he didn't understand anything at all.
"Oh yes..." Lucifer said. "And we can't have anyone in Hell more beautiful then the king himself." With that, he grabbed the back of the youth's neck and dragged him to a torture chamber. The poor youth tripped and crawled over himself trying to initiate his mobile skills he had never used before. After clumsily walking for what seemed like eterinty, the youth was thrown and strapped into a metal chair much too big for him. His eyes dashed around to see where his father had left him, but there was nothing to see other than a single light inches above his head; everything else was black... just black.
Suddenly, a hand firmly grasped his chin and something disturbingly cold pressed against the left hinge of his jaw. The youth didn't know which to sense first; the wirring of some type of machine or the sudden jolt of pain that crushed through his left hinge. Whatever the cold object was, it was now grinding through his jaw and rattling his entire head. The vibrations made the youth feel queasy. Not having anything in his stomach to begin with, he coughed and hacked an empty mouthful. The coughing fit wouldn't stop until at last his desire to regurgitate was fulfilled by a few spurts of bile. Unfortunately the pain in his left hinge was so horrid, he couldn't taste the bitter bile that dripped off his lips. If he knew what death was, he would have gladly wished for it at that point. Finally, the vibrations stopped, and the cold instrument removed itself from his jaw. Two warm fingers fished into the once cold spot and pulled something out. He heaved to catch his breath but felt something else cold had occupied his jaw: it grew colder every time he breathed in and out. Alas he realized a seven breaths later, a hole had been drilled into his jaw. All too soon, the eeriely cold object was placed on the other side of his jaw. A pair of tears dripped out of the corners of his eyes before the drill masacered another cave. Again the two warm fingers prodded through his jaw and cleaned out a vacant space where the flesh and bone used to be. The youth heard footsteps leaving the area he sat in, though he didn't feel relieved. Nothing but silence weighed heavily over his head. With nothing but silence to comfort him, it was difficult not to concentrate on the throbbing pain that made him feel like his head had warped. He tried relaxing his jaw open, but it hurt just as much as trying to clench it closed. Moaning, warm blood streamed down his neck and cooled as it snaked over his exposed body. He went to stand. It was then he realized there were six belts crossing his torso, two crossing each thigh, one across each ankle and wrist, and a thick strap snug around his heaving neck.
The foot steps came back. Oddly, they seem to be accompanied by some sharp clanging and almost soothing jingling. They stopped their noises as they approached the bleeding youth. He heard the light jingling right next to him followed by a few snips and snaps. Two slender, bloodied hands emerged into the youth's visible area and placed themselves over the oozing cavities. The ignorant youth felt comforted by these hands: they were soft, they held his face so gingerly, they did not shake, they were confident, they were strong. As the youth was enjoying his bit of relief it immediately interrupted by a face. It's eyes were large, orange, and slightly slanted. The lips pulled sideways into a smile the made a spike of fear shoot down the youth's spine.
"And now," the face spoke. "No one will ever know." The youth didn't realize it, but the ever-so comforting hands consealed large metal cylinders that were now over the empty spaces in his jaw. In one slick movement, the hands crammed the cylinders, filling the empty spaces. He cringed and curled his toes at the toture. Seeing as the holes smaller than the cylinders, the expansion of the openings sent a sudden force up through the youth's cheek bones, giving the feeling that his face would explode under any more pressure. Despite the fact that he was barely breathing, because doing so increased the agony of it all, he could feel his face becoming muffled and hear his breath making an echo. An ice-cold object rested over his nose and mouth; it smelt metallic. Something clicked against the metal cylinder on his left side, then he felt a light grinding. The light grinding quickly changed to the harsh sound of metal scraping against metal. As the scraping got longer and louder, his left hinge expanded and pulled in tighter towards the center of his mouth. He yelled in agony but it was gagged by the blood in this throat. He coughed and gargled on his blood and the metal screeching continued. Once it ended on his left side, the light grinding started on the other side. Meaningless tears poured down his cheeks and over this metal object now being screwed onto his face. Inside the metal cage was a hot, clammy environment he abhored and wanted to escape. Luckily, he passed out as the right screw began to screech.
Lucifer stood infront of his son wiping the blood from his hands on the black robe the youth insisted on grasping as he was dragged into the chamber. He held his son's limp face in both his hands like he did earlier and admired the metal contraption perminently screwed on the the boy's face. He left his son and returned with two other being cloaked in black robes.
"Take him and train him." Lucifer ordered. Quickly the two beings unlatched each of belts that held to lifeless boy to the chair with their diligent fingers. One of the beings draped the bloodied black cloak over the boy and cradled him into his oun large muscular arms. Quietly the boy and the two beings left Lucifer.
"Oh, please be careful with him." Lucifer called after them. "His face is going to be a little tender for a while." The two beings noded in understanding and exited the chamber. Lucifer turned on his heels and sat in the blood-drenched chair. He smiled in approval.
"Nobody... Nobody will EVER know."




Gawd, now that I've written a small novel... It's been a while since I've written, so, spare me grammar and spelling lessons. If you've read all of this... fuckin' congrats.

Now some real Artist's Comments:
The lack of background kills me... ideas?
I should have drawn him in a more dynamic perspective. Damn.