Felix furrowed his brow thoughtfully as Arsène’s comment on wishing he’d waited before feeding him before feeding him. He immediately began wondering what the man had planned for the evening and his eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he started across his bowl at the admittedly beautiful holy man. He shook his head lightly after a few moments, however, casting any encroaching negative thoughts away as he continued on slurping up the last bits of his meal. When he set the bowl to the side he reached up to wipe the oil from his lips with the back of his hand again, listening intently as the priest before him once again began to speak.<br/><br/><i>Has anyone tried any sorts of treatments for what afflicts you?</i><br/><br/>Ix tipped his head back slightly, his eyes lifting up to the ceiling as he pried back through his memories. He thought of various instances where very half hearted attempts were made on his demons life, and he decided they were at least worth mentioning. “I’ve been doused in holy water on occasion, but it’s never seemed to have any effect, really.” He rolled his shoulders lightly as he dropped his gaze down into the empty vessel that his stew had been held in, examining the way the oil residue glistened in response to the flickering flame at his back. He heard an agitated mumbling, and he glanced around briefly in search of its whereabouts, though he quickly came to the realization that it was echoing from within his own skull and he promptly took to ignoring it, shifting his gaze back onto Arsène and dipping his head to acknowledge his consent to the priests planned activities. He should have assumed that the man didn’t wish to have him for supper for anything less than something horribly unpleasant. Men such as him always seemed to have some sort of hidden agenda, and the beautiful brunette before him wasn’t any different.<br/><br/>The sinner lifted himself up from his seated position in time with Arsène, and he watched closely as the priest moved over to a trunk of items stowed away in the corner of his tent, drawing out a jaw of some sort of black paste. Felix wasn’t left to wonder what the jar was holding for long, as Arsène offered up a curt explanation quite promptly. He nodded quietly before beginning the process of stripping down out of his minimal clothing. He gingerly folded the filthy items, setting them in a neat little pile near the entrance to the tent before retreating back towards the fire. His frail body already shivered, and whilst his stomach was slightly distended in response to the largest meal he’d had in ages, it still wasn’t a chore to point out nearly every bone that resided beneath his thin skin. The only thing that might impede one's efforts to do so was the thickly laid scar tissue that marred his pale flesh.<br/><br/>It was clear that once upon a time, before his affliction grew to such drastic measures, Felix might have been a decently good looking kid. He certainly wouldn’t have been the most eye catching gentleman on the streets of Oralie, but he had a decently proportioned body, fairly nicely cut facial features, beautiful, deep brown eyes, and milky, lightly freckled skin in the areas where the epidermis hadn’t yet been mutilated. It was a shame that he had been afflicted so, truly. The scars all but ruined his body, and gauntness did nothing for his facial features, and years of a torturous existence had led to a haunted look having taken over his features despite his occasional attempts at a smile or otherwise pleasant expression.<br/><br/>Felix sighed heavily as he ran a hand over his muddied torso, settling down carefully by the crackling flame and then slowly easing himself onto his back. The shivering was faint, and he wondered it it was all because of the slight chill that had crept into the tent as the evening wore on, or if it was partially because of his bodies inhabitant. He’d never witnessed the effects of holy ashes on a possessed individual. Could it be something that’d be worth their time? He supposed they’d find out in a few minutes as he settled down, completely exposing himself to the priest and allowing him to do as he wished as he rested his arms flat at his sides, pressing his palms firmly into the rug beneath him to brace himself just in case.