he's in lupus form, btw~
He couldn’t claim that he knew the complete origin of the crimson star that was their family symbol. More than likely he’d been told somewhere along the line, but his memory had always been filled with darkness and unexplained gaps of awareness. Too many souls possessed his body. Too many lives were being lead within a single corpse, seemingly animated solely by some infernal, unexplainable willpower. When he wasn’t Samael, he was a plethora of other demons, drifting along just as he was. Misery was the woman’s name. He felt the edges of his mouth twitch, as though daring to smile.
She herself looked as though she’d lead a life not without its own challenges and sorrows. Scarred and thin, snowy white, her eyes were a sickly green that he couldn’t help but admire. He seated himself then on skeletal haunches, patient as a dog in the wasteland—ever watching her with eyes the color of bloodshed. She knew his mother. He had time to converse. “How did you come to know my mother?” he asked.