ROLEPLAY HQ - eternal-dawn

Lazari was in her far away state, eyes blurred as she dragged her body up the stairs to her dormitory floor. Today had been long, the sounds of her world rattling around her mind as she tried to focus on her decision. Today had been brain surgery day, but with her father on a week-long bender, it had been another one of his tests. Half a bottle of vodka poured down her throat, scalpel in hand, screaming vampire strapped down on the table in front of her. Her brain pounded in her skull, her breath stinking of that nasty liquid Jasques called life. The world slipped and sloshed around her as she glared down the hall, the gothic arched windows allowing slats of moonlight across the dark wood floors. It was cold outside, her lab coat doing little to keep the indoor chill from seeping into her bones. She kept her head down, eyes staring at the cracks in the wood as she moved down the hallway, digging through her pockets for her keys to her room. At first, she cursed herself, turning around to head back to the lab building, before her fingers grazed over the warm metal. The key slid into the deadbolt lock she had requested and been granted, turning only as he pulled the door upwards, jiggling it all into place. The door grunted under its own weight, swinging open to reveal her disheveled abode. Her bed was pushed into the corner next to the window, outside was the fire escape, the campus lawn, and the city skyline, all cast in milky light. On her desk were books with strange symbols and incantations, lineages of demons and angels alike. Her bookshelves were lined with vampires and her open pages with demons. Had her father seen this, he would have burned them to ashes. He was a research puritan, thinking anything outside of vampiric activities was a betrayal to his cause. The door groaned as she shut it behind her, the world being shut out with it. She flicked the deadbolt with her hand behind her back as she looked around the room. Clothes were piled on her bed, her desk light was still on from last nights late night research, and research papers, books, and composition notebooks were stacked along the walls. It all made for a cramped living space, lucky for her, she spent most of her life in the laboratory performing surgeries on patients who were awake, screaming, threatening, and eventually dying. She stumbled over to her desk, tossing her keys onto its surface and watching them slide off, metallic smacking heard as they fell to the floor. Lazari pulled out the chair to her desk, slumping in it before laying her head atop the piles of research, tears bubbling in her eyes. How was one supposed to suffer all this Hell by herself? Her silent tears dribbled down her cheeks onto the papers below, drunken sobs of torment she could not escape. Her father had told her come hell or high water, he would always find her. She believed him, after all, there were trained hunters on his side, while she was just a student. With her tears drying up, she lifted her head, the sound of ripping paper snapping her back into the present, peeling the paper off her cheek and looking at its tear-stained contents.

11:56 AM

It was another ritual, one she had yet to try. Its loops, whirls, and jagged symbols hardly spoke to her, but she was set on trying one ritual a night until something changed, until maybe one day she could escape the mortal coil. She sighed heavily and stood up, using her foot to kick away the heaps of clothes on the floor, revealing an elaborate chalk drawing on the wood floor. She knelt down, grabbing one of the shirts she had kicked away, and began scrubbing away the previous night's ritual circle, leaving the wood a paler version of itself. She dug around the pile, her thin fingers finding her chalk box, a child's sidewalk chalk set, and dragged it into the light of the evening. Then she set to work, unenthused and preparing for another anti-climactic night. Her hands shook, her body withdrawing from the other chemicals her father used against her, this felt like methamphetamines, which would make sense, he had used it so regularly the last few weeks, but today had been vodka. Once the circle was drawn, she stood up and moved back to her desk, pulling out her top drawer and pulling out the five half-melted candles she had been using this month and a stolen book of matches. Carefully, as if this were the defining step, she set them at the five points of the circle and lit them one by one. Her eyes were bloodshot, dry and itchy from the day, making her sneeze and blow out the candle she had just lit. An irritated huff escaped her lips, pressing them thin as she lit another match, using the flame to light the candle. She stood up and stepped back a few paces, within this circle, the demon would be bound to her will, a contract would be formed, and it would kill her. Relief swept over her expression at this thought. She turned back to her desk and picked up the torn page, reading over the Latin lettering. Her sardonic chuckling broke the silence of her room, and her brain translated it quickly. She had been forced to learn many things, making her rather intelligent, but to her it was useless, lost on deaf ears, a waste of her time if she could not escape her current fate. She dropped the paper, watching it feather fall to the ground as she moved over to the circle, staring into flames, focusing on the fire of Hell, bringing them into her ice-cold heart. Once she felt the call of the void, she took a deep breath, her body vibrating with withdrawal and the anticipation of failure. “Nunc daemonem accerso.” She whispered at first, afraid to wake the others in the dormitory. “Nunc daemonem accerso.” Louder this time, only one time left. She paused, staring into the still flames of the five candles, calling their warmth into her, begging the universe to give her this chance, this escape. “Nunc daemonem accerso.”

11:56 AM

With it spoken, she fell silent, waiting, wondering if it had worked. A minute passed by, dragging her into the next, her body vibrating, itching for meth or coke, or god just anything, but her mind craved death. It seemed, in the silence, that she had failed. Lazari teared up, looking into the empty circle, her chest heaving with grief as she turned away, sure of her defeat. The world was silent except for her defeated sniffles, her tired hands working to take her labcoat off, tossing it across the back of her desk chair. “Another failed attempt on my life…” She picked up a notebook, scribbling down a scratch mark amidst the handful of others. She dropped it, watching it land face down, papers bending over each other, the pen smacking against the wood. It was as she stared vacantly at this that the air shifted, the candlelight dancing around the room. @Al the Killer

There were no dreams in Enkara's prison. He slept in a deep, silent stasis, only vaguely aware of the passing centuries. His punishment was oblivion, without the release death would bring. Until the call came. It was silent in the depths of Hell where he lay, yet it awoke him nonetheless, that human intent. The despair carried it further, until it reached him. His eyes opened, those glowing orbs of red that floated in the shadows surrounding him. Golden chains rattled as he sat up as much as the limited space - hardly larger than an oversized casket - would allow. That inexorable call, the tear in the air above him, returned his strength slowly to him. What it promised was not true freedom, but he would take any escape he could find. The stakes that secured his chains to the ground snapped free as he reached out and clawed his way up. Above him, in that room in the human world, hot air rose up and swirled around the circle, disrupting the papers on the floor and the candle flames that lit the space. A hand rose first, nails like claws scraping against the wood. Then another, as the room's shadows rushed toward the centre of the the circle to obscure the figure pulling his way up. The head that appeared next had no eyes, and even the colour of the flesh covering it was obscured in the shadows. Wisps of darkness crowned his head, shifting independently of his movements amongst the six horns atop it. The demon's body was broad despite his imprisonment as he rose up. Four leathery wings unfurled behind him, stretching toward the ceiling as he found his footing despite the rattling of chains that accompanied his ascent. The shadows continued to fall around him like a fog filled with crimson eyes.

5:11 AM

Enkara lifted his head to inhale the first breath of freedom, the relatively cool air of the human realm. It hung in his lungs, undeniably refreshing. He had never been here before. This particular space or the human world in general. His shadows spread to the limits of the circle, observing all he could see. A young woman stood in the room, which seemed to be something between a bedroom and a study. Papers and shelves of books promised a wealth of information, undoubtedly knowledge that he had missed out on during his imprisonment. A few of his eyes stared at the blank-eyed woman - no doubt the one who had called him - as he reached down to pick up the tome that had fallen to the floor. He never stood to his full height, despite having ample ceiling clearance to do so. Instead, he remained half-crouched as his form paced the circle as much as his bindings would allow, in small steps that did not suit his long legs. As he paced, he turned the pages in the notebook with great care as though to avoid tearing them. The ritual was Latin, but the note was English, albeit different in many aspects from what had been spoken prior to his imprisonment. "You have called upon me," he commented, opting for the formal 'you', rather than the informal 'thou'. He spoke quietly. Though his voice was smooth and deep, another voice seemed to carry with it, a lower, deeper growl. Rows of sharp teeth showed in his mouth as he spoke, like blades meant for tearing flesh with reckless abandon. "For what purpose?"

5:11 AM

He turned now to face her properly, though the lack of eyes on his face somewhat minimized the effect of doing so. Demonic etiquette dictated certain manners, least of which was to bow or kneel to one's summoner. He did no such thing. Now that he could finally stand, he refused to lower himself in such a manner again. He could not stop her if she felt inclined to make him show deference, but he would not make it easy, either. Instead, he stepped as close as he could without leaving the circle, taking in every detail he could. She was here in the room, but she was not present. She reeked with that acrid stench of alcohol, and copious amounts of it. A drunken summoning, then. But the intent had been real, the despair genuine. It would not have reached him had it simply been an act of foolish impulse. No, he was here for a reason, and he wanted to know what it was. There were simply... questionable elements when it came to pacts between a demon and a drunken human, and he needed to be sure of one thing aside from simply what her purpose for it was. "Do you understand the eternal consequences of summoning demons?" He asked for clarification, but the growl underlying his words lent a threatening air to most things he could say or ask. Even as he asked, he hoped with what passed for a heart that she understood. That he would not have to go back. That his rest would not last for centuries more. He had no desire to talk her out of the summoning and a potential pact. @Minezra's Not Okay(I Promise)

Lazari watched in shocked silence as the demon ripped a hole in time and space, clawing its way to her dormitory room. With it came the stench of sulfur, which made her nose crinkle but that was the most expression to come from her. Her eyes slowly wandered around the demon as it spoke, questioning her motives and her coherence. She would have laughed if she wasn’t filled with reverence for him and his demented form. She circled him, noting the chains, the many staring eyes, his maw. She studied him the way she studied life, in silence. Her tiny human brain struggled with this form, trying to see through the shadows even though this was mostly what he seemed to be. She blinked a few more times as she rounded back in front of him, her mind brimming with questions, but she silenced them, trying to focus on what she had wanted before he appeared. Death, its cold embrace called to her and the warmth of Hell would bring it to her. “I know very well what the consequences of my actions are. I would not have brought you here if I felt I was ignorant on the process.” She paused, eyes darting around his form, her eyebrows furrowing as she stepped forward, reaching her hand into the circle, hesitantly, pulling it back once her hand had gotten through. “What strange phenomenon…” She muttered. Her eyes went back to the demon, her little heart sputtering as her instincts tried to tell her to run away. “I summoned you here in quick business. I merely wish for you to kill me, then you can get back to whatever you were doing before.” Lazari again fell to looking at the chains, assuming this was the summoning circle, not his eternal state of being. She wanted to step into the circle, to examine and study, but surely that was intrusive and dangerous. She pulled her desk chair out and sat in front of him, enamored with the strange world she lived in, if only to watch it all slip away when she released him to kill her. For this act of mercy, she was happy to be staring into his unfathomable form, even if it sent her mind reeling to comprehend. “That’s all I want, is death. Can you do that for me?” @Al the Killer

Death. A simple request. Enkara had killed before. He had been created to do precisely that. Slaying a mortal who had given up on life would be an easy task. Even without his usual weapons, it would be easy to craft one in this dim lighting. He wouldn't need to - strength alone could do the trick. "I can..." Death was a foolish request. Summoning a demon had sealed her fate for the afterlife, or so he had been told was the case for humans. Hell was, for demons, a perfectly ordinary place, but no human wished for an eternity there. It would not be a peaceful release. More importantly, if that was their pact, he would be forced back into his prison the moment she died. No. He didn't want to grant it. "...But I will not," he concluded. This mortal was fascinating, at the very least. She seemed to regard him without fear, but instead with a curiosity he knew all too well. That hunger for knowledge that he had once studied humans with. The hunger for knowledge he now looked at her with. Why waste an opportunity? "Do you know how lucrative a demonic pact can be? Why squander it on something that will greet you someday on its own? What do you expect it to bring to you? What is worth an eternity of suffering?" he asked, lowering his head so that the space on his head where there should have been eyes was level with her eyes. "The scent of blood clings to you as surely as your inebriation, but there is something missing... No, I suspect you are not wicked enough to become a demon in death, even with this suffering. So that cannot be your reason. What do you wish to escape? What if you did not need to flee?"

10:59 AM

He reached out a hand toward her, as though to better examine this strange human, but stopped short, lowering his hand before it could reach her face and instead offering it palm-up. There was the risk that she would take the opportunity to die anyway, to fall on claws that could split human flesh without a second thought. But then there was that curiosity. Death had no answers that would satisfy a keen mind. "Consider a new pact, to be sealed in blood. Early death is for the powerless, and you could be something more." @Minezra's Not Okay(I Promise)

Lazari listened to him, her eyes glazing over as he told her he would not kill her, how life was a gift she was trying to squander, how lucrative his deal could be to her. Her eye twitched as she sunk back out of the world, seeing the lab, the screaming, her silence within the recesses of her mind as her body worked on auto pilot, doling out organs and lobotomies with her trembling hands. Her face twitched now, rage building as her shoulders tensed and her eyes glanced up at him. “No? You say…lucrative?” Her voice shook as if she was about to laugh, but tears welled up in her eyes instead. She was glaring, staring at him with hate and contempt that she felt was for him, but could only truly be placed with her father. “How dare you? How dare you presume Hell would be anything more than a fucking cakewalk compared to what I am trapped in!” She was trying to control herself, trying to temper her broken-hearted rage, but something snapped inside her when she realized, all she had to do was make him hate her, to lash out once, and she would be dead. “I own you! I brought you here! I could send you packing! And you defy my wish? Wherever I go, the Society will be on my trail! I don’t need your fucking lecturing, I need to die!” She thought a demon would like to have her soul, to torment it and play with it, even that sounded better than suffering one more surgery, and yet he was trying to make her make a power play? Lazari was exhausted, not just from the day, but from dragging her body around day in and day out. She trembled as she looked down at her hands, staring into the horrors that they committed, tears dripping into her palms. Her emotions were running rampant, making it impossible to think of a future that was anything. No matter who was with her, Cornelius would have their scientist, would have her, would own her. Her bleary eyes shifted back up to the demon, which she now only felt hate for, just as she hated the life he was trying to offer. “If my father finds you here, if you don’t kill me, I will trap you here, his little experiment. You either kill me or suffer!” Lazari looked like she meant it, her contempt was palpable, pulsating inside of her heart with the rhythm of her blood flow. Her fists clenched as she looked into its many eyes, her own darting around his form, looking to the golden chains. A hollow feeling began to develop inside of her, the one which dragged her out of the present and nestled her in the back of her mind, the numbness and blankness of her usual self. She grabbed her hair in both hands, putting her head between her knees, trying to stay present. This only served to enhance the sorrow. How was she to care about a life when all she did was take it? She did not deserve this chance he offered, she deserved death, she wanted death, it was all she craved. No amount of money, power, or influence, none of it served her. It could rectify the situation, it could topple the people around her, but she knew in her heart that that single moment of cold silence before her soul entered Hell was the only piece she would ever have. She focused her mind on the floor, taking in each loop, each crevice, and knot inside the wood. Her mind hummed, wondering if it mattered anyway, should she pick up the scalpel tomorrow and slit her throat, would it even matter? She did not want to do it to herself, she had tried and failed so many times, fifteen if her scrawlings were correct. Lazari needed this formless thing to do it himself. “Please…this is all I want from you. I just want to die. I have nothing here, only the blood that stains my hands. A father who will stop at nothing…a tainted name, a tainted mind…I just want to die.” Her voice was nothing but a whisper by the end of the sentence as she shivered in her chair, crying. It was a rather pathetic scene, she was sure of it, but did not care. @Al the Killer

The answers to his questions came out in bits and pieces amongst an outburst of barely-coherent rage. Pity was an unnatural emotion for a demon, but Enkara recognized the pit in his stomach as such, the same pang that had lingered beneath the surface of his time spent with the souls of dead humans. That same feeling had been among his greatest failings, a defect that had prevented him from serving his purpose. It did not show on his face or in his voice, but he couldn't deny it was there. "You cannot goad me into ending your life," he said. "The more provocations you try, the less I want to." His shadows surrounded her but never quite touched. They didn't need to, for the heat that emanated from their mere proximity. "All fathers are tyrants." For a moment, his more human baritone softened, as though speaking from experience. "But why should you not give yours a reason to fear you? Do you not grow weary of running?" He observed her as she seemed to retreat within herself, tears falling as she pleaded for death. There was the pull of instinct to do it, to shed her blood and show that what awaited her was worse than anything she could face here. But that would meant that he returned to his prison. And truly, was it worse? Humans had repeatedly proven themselves capable of depravity that left demons envious. No, there needed to be another path. To satisfy his demonic nature without condemning himself so soon after his first sight of the human world. He crouched on the floor, eyes turned to look up at her as he considered. It was not quite the kneel of a knight swearing himself to his liege, but it was an offer of deference with conditions. His progenitor had been a master of manipulation. He was not quite so skilled, but he was not helpless in such matters either.

1:04 PM

"There is no satisfaction in the slaying of one who is half in the grave already. But, to offer one final offer: I could make you someone worth killing." He had not read nearly as much here as he wanted to, but what he had seen indicated a mortal of intellect, one with potential. "Not a pathetic shell, but something more than human. We can make this father of yours fear you, we can crush your enemies if you so wish. If it would placate you to study a demon, I am here, and well accustomed to suffering beyond human comprehension. Whatever you decide, you will live to see your full potential. When that potential is fulfilled and you have reached your pinnacle, I will grant you death, whether you still wish for it or not. It will not be a pleasant death, but I am sure you considered as much when you decided to beg a demon for it." He turned his face upwards, keeping silent now to let his offer and the accompanying threat sink in. Of course he couldn't sound too benevolent. Such things were far less trustworthy coming from a demon than the promise of a gruesome death. His lips curled upward into a grin, displaying the sharp teeth behind them. Despite his disgust toward the concept of serving anyone, a thrill ran through his blood at the thought of a proper, long-term pact. If he could not be free, he would at least enjoy a larger prison. @Minezra's Not Okay(I Promise)

Lazari listened to the demon's words, letting them sink into her core, the part of her which begged for freedom soaking them in and letting them stoke the fires of her soul. He held great depths, knowledge, power, all things that did, at the very least, intrigue her. And those chains…why did such a great beast wear shackles. She looked up a bit to face him, tears slipping down her cheeks still. Her breathing was inconsistent as she studied him. His offer was at least somewhat close to the death she sought, but it still required more days in that dreadful laboratory, and how would she explain this new figure to her father. His offer only held more work, more laborious breathing, more drugs, more alcohol, more screaming and raging, but who had ever studied a demon until now? Who had been given the chance to claw her way out of pathetic sobs into triumphant rage? The idea was beginning to grow on her, but with it came a blurred future, one she could not plot with ease as she had done for so many years. “My father should scare even the likes of you…all of you demons should tremble at his name.” She looked at him, realizing that his way would be the only way to salvation, whether she had to wait for him to grow bored or not, he was offering her the death she had begged him for. It occurred to her, that perhaps he was not aware of who she was the way everyone around her always was, that he did not know of the experiments, the torture, the grim smile her father gave to his victims. It made her smile, not of glee, but of sadism. He would soon see, he would soon witness the horrors of mankind and what it breeds. A deep steadying breath pushed her to her feet, knelt below her gaze was this demon, shackled in the circle she had created. Such a display filled her with disgust. She would never put him in such a position again, she swore it to herself, so that she never became her father. It made him look weak, like her will alone held him down, and she would never allow herself to put something so great at her feet, no matter how powerful it made her feel. “Stand up…I can’t stand such an act, I am not worthy of your enduring power, let alone such a submissive display.” The golden shackles held her attention, her mind growing foggy from sleep deprivation and the sobering effects of this interaction. She wanted to rest, if it was not an eternal one, the few hours before class started would have to do. “I will accept your deal, but I have conditions of my own.” This surprised her, where had such boldness come from, was it him? “I will not stand to be lied to, if you’re going to haunt me this way, the least you will do is be honest. And your loyalty, if demons know of such things, is to me. When I say jump, you say how high. When my father says jump, you ask me if that is my wish. And when the day comes for you to kill me, I wish to be by the sea, listening to the waves under the setting sun.” Lazari watched him, studying his reactions, but it was difficult in this form, for his features were foreign to her. It made it nearly impossible for her to read his expressions and understand whether this was acceptable of her to demand. It did not matter to her anymore, she let her head fall back into her hands as the hungover feeling began to creep into her. She had stayed awake too long, her head beginning to pound and her stomach churning. She moved to her bed, laying down, trying to be rid of this feeling. “Is that satisfactory for you? Can you accept my terms so I might get some rest?” The intricacies of trying to explain away a shadow figure filled with eyes and teeth following her around frustrated her, but she was too tired to think that far ahead. She merely wished for this night to end, even if it meant the sun rising on her in the morning. @Al the Killer (edited)

Perhaps the way she spoke of her father should have been a warning. To him, it was a challenge. Oh yes, bringing someone like that down would be a delight. Enkara waited a moment before rising to his feet, not out of defiance, but because he had spent a long time immobile, which did not make standing from his current position the easiest task. He did it anyway, chains scraping against the floorboards as he did. "I accept your conditions," he said easily, because he had no intention of lying, and loyalty was an unspoken part of all demonic pacts that he would be unable to break even if he tried. Her final request for her death would be the least he could do to thank her for however many years of freedom he could squeeze out of this. "We have an agreement." Blood was the preferred method of sealing such contracts, but this was primarily for dramatic effect and to prove the human's commitment to it. He could see her determination clearly enough; the spoken agreement was enough. The room grew warmer for a moment, a flare of heat that seemed contrary to the darkening of the space around them as he crossed the threshold of the circle. Demons were conspicuous though, so he would need to move through this world as something else. He lifted his hands in front of him, tilting his head down toward the chains that still hung from his wrists and his ankles. "These will need to go, of course." With the pact, his strength was returning to him. He stretched his arms out to his sides with the full force he could manage, and the chain binding them bent first, then snapped as he surpassed its limit, the loud noise echoing through the room. Breathing a sigh of relief, he rubbed at one wrist with the opposite hand. The other chains, he could be more tactful with now that he had his full dexterity. "I will allow you to rest, while I find a form to take that will be less... disconcerting to mortals. That is, unless you wish to terrify them with my presence?"

2:24 PM

@Minezra's Not Okay(I Promise)

Lazari watched him, rolling onto her side to study his movements as he left her binding circle, their pact having some sort of effect on its magic. Her eyes had grown lazy, the warmth of the room, the darkness, the way her bed cradled her body, it all lulled her into the safe haven of the dreaming world, one she had used as her escape many times. The clattering of his golden chains held her awake, if only for a few moments longer. She found it a miracle that none of the people on this floor or below her had made complaints to the hall monitor or their dorm manager. Perhaps this too was part of his magic. She frowned, wondering if her life would ever be worth living, or if she had just prolonged her torment. She sighed, exasperated, exhausted, waiting for sleep to take over, not caring if she managed to acknowledge him any further. Hearing his acceptance of her terms made the tension in her muscles release, allowing her to relax. If her father found out, they would both have to deal with his wrath. She hoped that they could catch him off guard, that he would not have time to invent some demented device to study him with. These thoughts swirled in her mind, until she got to the part of her train of thought which required his name. She chuckled a bit at how silly it seemed to summon a demon and know nothing about them, not even their name, but here she was nonetheless. She peeled her eyes open, looking at him, how he did not fit in with the mess of her room, noting how his presence held something regal to it. She watched him break the chains, allowing herself to feel awe. Never had she seen anything with such strength, not even the vampires could muster the strength to shatter chains and shackles of such size. It brought forward a thought, one that only desperate beggars or greedy nobles would have thought, but for her, it was purely scientific. Was that real gold? She pulled her eyes open, one final time for the night, desperate to hear his name, fighting tooth and nail against the alcohol, the exhaustion, clawing her way to the edge of the waking world, just to satisfy this one question now that all her other needs had been satiated for the moment. He had clocked her well, using her studious nature to pull her into a contract with him. She could not help but let her curiosity run rampant. Her books had told her of many wars, coups, fiendish armies and their locations, but those rituals were nameless, roulette for the occult summoner. To her, he seemed strange, perhaps one of those lords who only appeared to the truly desperate, yet he had called her pathetic in not so many words. Would a lord have bothered with her? No, she thought, rushing through her list, finally settling on simply forcing out the words to ask him. “Who are you? Why did you come now, why are you the only one to answer my rituals? I have been doing them once every night for a month…” Her train of thought was derailed by sleep, leaving her thought unfinished as her eyes closed, her mind waiting in the darkness for his answer. For a moment, she thought she would never hear his answer, that sleep would overcome her before she heard his answer, but she held on. @Al the Killer

In the quiet moments, Enkara enjoyed the freedom of movement to the fullest extent that he could do so quietly. Walking freely was out of the question for now, but he could stretch his arms and legs freely enough, careful not to scratch at the ceiling before coming back down to his usual slouch. His shadows withdrew toward his body, most of his eyes closing as though to avoid disturbing her with their glow, however faint. In the spots where the shadows were thinnest, the scarred lines across his arms were visible, as would the dark tattered rags of clothing that had managed to stay on his frame over the centuries. Folding his wings behind his back, he moved slowly, carefully toward the chair she had occupied and took a seat for himself. Though it creaked softly, he did not weigh more than a human male of his height would be expected to, so it held perfectly fine. The chains rattled as he braced a foot against the seat, leaning down while sitting as he studied where and how the cuffs connected. He did not want to make too much noise by breaking them again, but he could not find a lock or gap in the metal. Acid or temporary amputation would be ideal - a human weapon would not leave permanent damage, though regeneration would take quite a while even if it was just a foot. Then she spoke again and he paused his inspection. There was power in names, but if she asked for such information, he was no longer able to withhold it. The power of contracts was far greater, after all. "I am known among demons as Enkara, final progeny of Berith and former Commander of His Grace's twenty-fourth legion," he explained. Most likely, a good portion of his words would mean something - after all, she seemed to have done her research, insofar as humans could understand the affairs of demons.

3:47 PM

"As for why I am the only one to answer, it is likely the other rituals were inaccurate. Most rituals were created long before humanity learned to write. Oral records become easily distorted, further butchered through the translation process as languages and their speakers die. Most rituals change so much prior to being written that very few true, effective summonings remain. Even the one you used may not have been entirely accurate, but it was close enough that your intent carried it through," he said. "Far enough to reach me. You were desperate, so I took the opportunity to surface." Given the exhaustion in her voice when she had asked, he wasn't certain she would even be awake for the entire answer. Her eyes were closed at least. For now, he took the chance to shift form. His shadows retreated the rest of the way toward him and his flesh took on a more human colour, a cool, light brown. No more claws, ordinary teeth, two hazel eyes set into his face, and long black hair that draped over his head and shoulders as physical strands should have. He wore black clothes now, no longer tatters but instead loose garments that would not have been out of place on a Medieval lord in mourning - the last era he had been free to see mortals from. If one did not examine him with an inappropriate level of closeness, he appeared entirely human, albeit anachronistic. @Minezra's Not Okay(I Promise)

She watched him, giving his name and rank so freely, naive to the reality that their contract bound him to do so. Her lips mouthed his name silently, but that was her final waking moment, his name giving her small amounts of comfort, for at least her father could not simply barge in here and drag her out of her room. This was her last thought, it made her smile softly against her pillow, still clothed in her jeans and tee shirt she had worn under the labcoat his back was now pressed against. She hadn’t even taken off her shoes. In fact, if not warned against it, she would simply wake up, brush through her hair with her fingers, and stuff the lab coat in her bag before going to her classes. There would be English Lit, Calculus, Biology, and then…it would be her lab time with her father. To her, this time was nearly instantaneous, her eyes closed, and then they opened, the sound of her alarm ringing out into the room. The previous night slipped her memory as she smacked the alarms top, the plastic thudding against the wooden bedside table, its display pushed face down as she rolled over, sunning her face. The warmth brought some color to her face, her mind trying its best to kickstart and remind her of the previous days horrors. She mumbled things to herself, reminders of her chores, essays, even the parting words her father had left her with. Something something, don’t forget to prepare for tomorrows lobectomy. Her eyes opened, wide and confused as she sat straight up and looked into her room. The blown out candles were knocked over, wax spilled and hardened onto the chalk drawing, her notes scattered, the world showing signs of her unholy act. The memories of her rage, her acquiescence, all of it flooded her throbbing mind. It sent panic through her, was this what she wanted or the drunken mistake her father had hoped to see her make so he could punish her for it? She heard movement in her bathroom, wondering if this was where he was, or was it her father, come to dole out his demands for the day? She stood up, her head pounding, less angry than when she had went to bed. Her eyes searched for her water bottle, stooping down to rummage through her canvas bag. Whoever was in her bathroom would have to wait, her mouth was dry, grainy like she had swallowed sand. Lazari found her bottle, flicking open the top and drinking from the silicone nib. Once she had downed what was left of her water, she looked up at the half open door. His name echoed in the back of her mind, hoping it was him behind the door, but her fear of her father questioning her for calling out such a strange name drove her to call out for him instead. “Father, is that you? I didn’t hear you come in…” She waited, stiff as a board as she stared into her bathroom, waiting for the response.

4:42 PM

@Al the Killer

Sleep was not an exclusively mortal activity, but the last thing Enkara wanted to do was go back to sleep. And as much as being in the presence of a resting human - or any living human at all - was a novelty, this was by far the most boring state she could possibly have been in, so he soon sought other means of passing the time. Still moving carefully, as quietly as he could manage, he approached the desk first, looking over the mess of clutter. Of books, of notes in what he had to assume was her handwriting. There was a fair amount of consistency in what they held. Demonology, and a whole lot of it, about as accurate as could be expected to survive so long in the human world. Nothing truly new to him. He still took a moment to organize the desktop a bit, if only out of instinct. Piles sorted by topic, books closed with whatever miscellaneous small objects he could find slipped between the pages to mark the place each volume had been open to. The moonlight through the window was sufficient for him to see by, so he paused to extinguish the candles. They had nearly reached their ends anyway, likely having been burned through the many attempted summonings she had mentioned previously. The bookshelf took his attention next, though they appeared to be primarily about vampires. Still nothing truly new. He faced the rest of the room. There were two doors. One was shut securely. Faint light filtered through the crack underneath that one, and he could hear quiet footsteps as someone walked past. It must have led to the rest of the building, which seemed to be shared with others. Some sort of castle, judging from how high up this room seemed to be. The other door was cracked open ever so slightly, with silent darkness on the other side. He made his way over there, pushing it gently open so that the creak of the hinges would not be enough to disturb his summoner's rest. He would need to ask her name later - if she had given it, he had already forgotten.

2:23 PM

This room was darker, with no windows, but he could make up the shapes of a tub, a washbasin, and what seemed to be a strangely-shaped chamber pot of some sort, all with various odd devices attached. On the ceiling, a dull orb rested, and he could not fathom its purpose. His search began with the wall though, brushing his fingertips against the smooth rectangle next to him. The room became illuminated in an instant, and he blinked the sudden brightness out of her eyes. Each device seemed to be made of spotless porcelain with silvery spouts and levers here and there. He pushed the door behind him until it was almost shut and returned to his true form. He would need it, to tolerate what was about to happen as he contemplated the remaining chains. One way or another, they were coming off. He sat on the edge of the tub, bracing his back against the wall as his shadows gathered as if to quiet the impending sound. As he reached down toward the cuff that secured the chain around one ankle, time seemed to slow for him. An increased pain tolerance was not immunity. He drew in a deep breath before snapping the ankle with an audible crack. Getting his sharp teeth, he worked the cuff down its new path, now that the joint could be set straighter than it was ever meant to move freely. But the gold was still tight around him, and dragged strips of flesh with it, dripping a nearly black liquid into the tub. He caught the chain in one hand before it could clatter to the porcelain below, setting it down safely before setting the broken joint properly once more. Each movement shot agony through him, yet he endured. He'd learned long ago to bear pain in silent rage, never crying out or showing weakness. "The things I'll do for freedom," he growled quietly to himself, taking a moment to breathe before repeating the deeply unpleasant process.

2:23 PM

If anything, the second time was harder than the first, pain and regret from the first already marring his determination. But it was done, and he left the discarded chain at the bottom of the tub for lack of a better place for it. The blood, though to the human eye it more resembled tar, would have to be cleaned out later, but it was only a few drops. He breathed a sigh of relief for the task completed and rested the back of his head against the cool wall, unwilling to move from the spot while his bones healed. As the pain faded, he drifted off to a reluctant sleep. He woke to a persistent, incessant beeping, the likes of which he had never heard. But if he ever returned to Hell as a free demon, he'd be sure to recommend whatever it was as a new form of torture. Within seconds, it was more than enough. Bristling with rage, he strode toward the door on his newly healed limbs, only to stop as the noise mercifully stopped. It wasn't like he could unleash unholy fury on whatever had caused it without the mortal's go ahead, so he paused to calm his irritation and resume the human form he had taken the night before. "He's not here," he answered. His voice sounded much like it had before, but unified, the growling beneath it now gone. More human. "And what in the nine circles was that fucking noise?" He opened the door and stepped out as he spoke, not considering that he was currently in the form of a human man that this mortal had never seen before in her life. @Minezra's Not Okay(I Promise)

She stepped back a few paces, her tired mind working to understand why the familiar voice was coming from an unfamiliar vessel, her hands shooting up to defend herself from any sudden attack. Slowly, her face relaxed into a more confused expression. Lazari sighed and rubbed her eyes to dislodge the sleep crusts and then turned to check the time, this would determine how much time she allotted to understanding how a demon would not know of basic technology if they were interacting with dead humans in Hell. The green LCD flashed 7:32 AM, her eyes rolling in her head. “That was, I mean it is, my alarm clock,” she paused and looked back at him, scrutinizing his clothing. “ Why are you dressed like a Renaissance fair?” She shook her head and threw her hands in the air, turning away to grab her canvas bag and the lab coat thrown over her desk chair. “You cannot go out there looking like that, especially not around me. I don’t need any more attention.” She winced, just the thought of being the dean’s daughter with that weirdo in the medieval dress made her want to crawl out of her skin. As Lazari rummaged through her desk, looking for a pad of sticky notes, she stopped to look the organized piles of her books, looking back at him. “Did you look through my notes? Whatever, feel free to continue. I am afraid the things I have to study will do you no good out with the people.” She pulled a pad of basic yellow Post-its and shoved them into one of the front pockets of her back. “I know, we should sneak out tonight and go to the bar. Lots of interactions with relative anonymity.” Her hands shook as she raced around the room, grabbing a few books she knew she would need for the day, dreading time with her father. She would need the drink and pulling one over her father always made her feel more alive than dead. “I have to go, any questions before I do so?” She was counting on him saying no, looking down around her desk for her keys, picking them up and moving towards the door. @Al the Killer

It was hardly an answer because what was an alarm clock, anyway? Still, she seemed calm enough about it, so Enkara opted to accept her answer and investigate the noisy little device later. Other questions demanded asking, particularly in response to the one she asked. He looked down at his clothes, at the black tunic tucked into a pair of loose-fitting trousers, tucked into tall, polished leather boots. It was reasonable to assume that human fashions would have changed since his imprisonment, but the only frame of reference he had for those changes could only serve as an example of what women wore now. "What's a Renaissance fair?" was all he could think to ask after a moment, though other questions flowed easily after. "I can't exactly go out in my true form, unless humans have become considerably calmer about demons in recent times. Shall I follow you as a cat? Take the form of a woman and dress as you do? Or do you want me to simply wait in these small chambers for the entirety of the day?" He stood in place as he spoke since there wasn't much space to walk around without getting in the way of her frantic search. His hands moved plenty as he spoke though. "And when you say bar... is that something like a tavern?" he asked. "Is this castle guarded, or do we merely walk through the door?" He gestured toward the window as though to suggest a pathway if there were guards to worry about. They were questions that warranted answers, he assumed, but those answers would just as easily be provided after nightfall. So for now, he stood by the window and crossed his arms to avoid getting in her way as she left. He looked through it at the strange landscape before, so much more grey than he had imagined the human world to be. There was so much noise, even muted as it was through layers of stone and glass. He was sure he could find plenty of ways to kill time while she was out. @Minezra's Not Okay(I Promise)

Lazari opened her mouth to explain a Renaissance fair, closing her mouth to listen to his further questioning as she leaned against her dorm room door. She watched him, studious, cataloging hand motions and facial expressions, finding it much easier to understand him in this form. She burst out laughing when he called the university a castle, the idea of it needing to be guarded the way he imagined making a smile crack through her stress. Her hand came up to cover her mouth, turning away to try and hide how ridiculous he sounded to her, trying to be gentle and understanding of his confusion, but this experience was far from what she had expected. “S-sorry. God, I am sorry. I don’t mean to laugh. If you want to, I think being a cat would be most advantageous and I can show you around the university. There aren’t guards, but that does not mean I am any less trapped here than if there were.” She stifled more laughter, turning her head to look at the time. The clock flashed 7:40, making her wince a bit. This was all cutting it too close for her comfort, but what else was she to do? “But if you are going to be a cat, you should do so quickly. I am going to be late and if my father gets word that I am late it will be Hell to pay.” The irony of telling a demon this was not lost on her, but she worried that any more laughter towards him or the situation at hand would be considered rude. She looked him over, shaking her head and grinning at his attire. “What is a renaissance fair, god, you have so much to learn.” She said as she turned away to give him privacy, wondering if changing forms was like changing clothes. Lazari stared at her door, nervous about the day. Would people notice the cat trailing at her feet all day, and how would it look when she explained the world to this cat like it could understand a word she was saying? It didn’t matter much, she concluded, they all thought she was stuck up and crazy as it was. Her mind wandered, the ticking of a clock tick-tocking away in her mind as she rested her hand on the door. A question buzzed in her mind, but she was afraid to say too much, that her morning rush was giving him whiplash and that too many questions or answers would overload him the way it so often did to her. She supposed it could all wait until tonight, until the tavern. She chuckled to herself at the thought of him seeing her with teased hair and a full face of white and black makeup, wondered what the low tones of the club she had in mind would make him think. @Al the Killer

At the realization that he would be going with her, Enkara allowed a very un-demonic grin of excitement make its way across his features. No matter that he was being laughed at, she had every right to do so as his contractor. What mattered was not being cooped up inside all day. The transformation was done in a flash, a cloud of black smoke appearing around him but vanishing just as quickly, leaving a long-haired orange cat in its wake. This form was still larger than one might have expected from a domesticated cat, but not outside of the realm of believability. The feline padded over to Lazari, tail swaying happily in the air as he looked up and let out a scratchy meow. A wordless promise not to speak in a human or demonic voice while in this form in public. After all, that would be... concerning, and she seemed to want him to remain inconspicuous. As inconspicuous as he could be. Once the door was open, he followed her through, letting his tail brush briefly against her leg as would be expected of a cat accompanying a trusted human. Although his preference would have been to roam the human world as a human man, there was so much to be sensed in the body he currently possessed. Scents too distant or faint for humans to pick up on, from other rooms or through windows. He sniffed the air as he walked down the corridors. The building was not quite as grand as he had hoped, but the arched windows kept it well-lit, and there was some greenery visible through them.

10:00 AM

He looked up at Lazari as they walked, listening to anything she might have to say. While it was possible to open up a telepathic channel of communication through their pact, the mortal would have to request it first, and he had not brought up the possibility. In all honesty, he recalled how desperate she had been to die, the inebriated state she had been in when they'd first met, and he absolutely did not want to spend any time in her head right now. Not until he at least knew her better beyond that. For his own comfort, mostly. @Minezra's Not Okay(I Promise)

She looked down at him as they walked, watching his tail flick in obvious delight. How strange he was, how truly strange. The dormitory hall was fairly empty and the stairwell was silent as they moved down the floors. She decided to use this short period of time to explain a few things to him while she could. “So you asked about the ‘castle’ but it isn’t a castle at all. You are at the London University in the co-ed dormitory house. I grew up here.” Lazari rounded the corner platform, going down the stairs slowly so that he could keep up and not be lost. As she spoke, her mind solved another problem, the issue of him wandering around while she was in classes. She would simply stash him in her canvas bag. She rounded another platform, shoving open the heavy door that led to the rest of the campus, the lush green grass still dewed over. “My father owns the school and is acting dean, he made a bunch of money making some electrical component…” She stopped herself, sighing as she realized he had no concept of computers or electricity. “Alright…” they moved across the lawn to the math and science building, her pace steady. “You surely have seen lightning yes?” She did not wait for him to respond, knowing he would simply meow or stare at her. “Lightning is electricity. We have developed a way to power our technology using this concept, basically circulating lightning through things we call electronics. With this…” She babbled on, explaining electricity to him in the smallest, simplest terms she could. Before they reached the door to the building, she stopped, looking down at him and chuckling. “And so, with all that in mind, my father made his wealth helping to refine these electronics to create computers, which are basically machines that link up to an invisible world of knowledge…” She knelt over and scooped him up in her arms, realizing how heavy he was for a house cat. Lazari absent-mindedly bounced him up and down, falling to baby-talking him like a real cat. “We’re gonna have to put you on a diet aren't we Mr. Snuggle Kitty?” She laughed a bit opening her bag and moving things around so he would fit nicely. “All this to say, people don’t really like me here because I am rich and my father does not let me do anything, so they think I am stuck up.” She pulled on the door to the math and science building, and the first few drips of rain landed on her palm as it swung open. She hoped her explanation helped ground him to the world they were in, but held little hope. It felt like she was just rambling and that he was not getting anything out of it. The hallway on the first floor was empty, meaning she was certainly late, but her calculus professor was an alcoholic and almost never showed up within the first ten minutes of class. @Al the Killer (edited)

In this form, Enkara moved nimbly, keeping up with ease despite his smaller size compared to the human. All the while, he listened to what she had to say. He recalled Berith's experiments, some of them seeking to harness the power of lightning. At the time, neither demon nor human knowledge had been quite there, as the two had a tendency to run parallel to one another, with one pulling slightly ahead of the other at times. Sometimes Earth outpaced Hell, other times it was the other way around. It was fascinating, listening to what could be done now that such power was able to be controlled. Not only controlled - generated. With all of the attention he paid to her words, he did not think much of her actions until the ground was unceremoniously swept away from his feet. He squirmed at the unexpected shift at first, settling in once he realized it was pointless. A cat overpowering a human would be incredibly suspicious, and he wasn't about to risk hurting her with his claws. They had a deal, after all. For now, he settled on hissing at her. And again as she commented on his weight. Despite his protests, he complied for now, climbing into the bag once there was some clearance for him. His head poked out of the opening at first, until a drop of rain fell on his ear. It flicked in annoyance as he ducked his head down into the canvas bag. He wanted to know more about this 'invisible world of knowledge', but it seemed he would have to wait. For now, he familiarized himself with his canvas confines, kneading at the bottom of the bag with his paws and sniffing at its contents. Paper and ink, but fainter hints of blood and some sharper scents unfamiliar to him. For a moment, he chewed on the corner of a textbook cover just out of spite. That would surely show her not to threaten him with a diet.

7:53 AM

They passed through the empty hallway and the sound of voices from another room caught his attention. He ceased his chewing - the cover had not been wood and leather as expected, but something softer and altogether more unpleasant - and picked his head up to peek at the door it was coming from. He looked up at the human, a silent question as to whether or not this was the place. How fortunate that the human was a university student - tagging along gave him plenty of opportunity to absorb some new knowledge of the era, after all. His tail twitched again in excitement.

7:53 AM

@Minezra's Not Okay(I Promise)

Lazari stopped in front of a solid wooden door, peering into the single pane of glass which overlooked the lecture hall, students shuffling into place. She sighed in relief, pushing open the door and sheepishly rushing passed everyone, settling into the top row. As she did, she opened the bag, almost forgetting the demon cat was tucked away. She smiled a bit, absentmindedly rubbing a finger along his fur before snapping back to reality and pulling her fingers away, flinching. She grabbed a pencil, her notebook, and the thin laptop hidden away in a zipper pocket. Her movements were all careful, gently opening her notebook and labeling the page with the date and continuing the notes from last week. She then opened her laptop and looked through the group document she had with Elias and his sister, the only people who seemed to talk to her. Just as she got this set up, the calculus teacher stumbled in, red eyed, spiked coffee sloshing in his tumbler as he sat at his desk. She didn’t understand how anyone could teach in such a state, but a few silent moments passed and soon he was up with a piece of thick chalk scraping along the board. Her mind wandered from the subject. It drifted away through the blurring memories of her days. Her father’s studies, her drunken sobbing, the world slowly losing color around her as it swallowed her up. “Ms. Venito? Your phone is ringing.” Her professors voice snapped her out of her haze and she looked up, blue eyes wide as she tried to surmise the question, her hand reaching around to pull her phone out, shutting it off. It was her father, he was the only one who ever called. “S-sorry.” The professor simply picked up where he left off, her eyes narrowing as she tried to focus, tried so hard, her mind slipping to the demon in her bag, which she eyes nervously every time her pencil stilled against the paper. Before she knew it, class was over, students shuffling their things and feet across the room.

A young man slid into the seat next to her, brushing against the bag, to which she uncharacteristically touched and grabbed the bag to her. “Elias…hi…” The young man grinned and leaned on the desk to get a better look at her. “Rumor has it you were pretty drunk last night cutting across campus? Wild party?” She winced at the mention of the night before and stood up. “Y-yeah, sorry I can’t chat, I’ve got a class in fifteen minutes. Text me.” And with that, she was rushing away, leaving him to watch her, frowning at her distance. He liked her despite the rumors, at least wanted to be friends with her, more than just studying notes, but she was obviously closed off. He understood this, he had seen the graffiti, the horrible memes on the school drama Instagram. His sister tried too, but Lazari kept shutting them out. She sighed, rushing out into the hall and looking around, heading towards the bathrooms. She felt her head pounding, sudden panic overwhelming her as she leaned over the water fountain, taking a few gulps. Lazari pulled out her phone and opened her phone app, listening to the voicemail from her father. He was simply reminding her of her duties after school. As if she could forget.

12:02 AM

@Al the Killer

The bag was a cramped spot to spend over an hour. Enkara struggled to sit still, shifting, kneading, and doing all he could not to pace in the extremely limited space he had. Despite his best efforts, it would still be obvious to anybody who deigned to so much as glance over that the bag was squirming a bit. Luckily, he managed not to move as much once the lecture began. He was not unfamiliar with the concept of mathematics, but humans had certainly uncovered some interesting uses for numbers since then, it seemed. Much of the professor's droning lecture was harder to follow without a view of what he was writing or proper hands to write anything with, but he could pick up a few of the basic principles, guess how they might apply outside of pure calculation. He'd need to borrow one of the human's books to know more. Perhaps even the one he had nibbled on the corner of. All he could say for sure was that he looked forward to getting out of the stuffy confines of this damn bag. Then there was movement. He stiffened and leaned away as something unknown brushed against the canvas confines of his current prison. An involuntary hiss escaped his throat, which he immediately regretted as a new voice spoke, closer than that of the others in the lecture hall. Hopefully the conversation and lecture had drowned out the noise, but just in case, he took care to keep quiet and listen. Judging from the casual tone, it may not have been uncommon for his summoner to get drunk and fuck around with the occult in her dorm. Fascinating. His ears perked up, though the chat was quickly cut short and there was no longer anything solid beneath his feet, just the bag sagging under the weight of the demon in cat form that inhabited it.

12:03 PM

Her movements were hurried, jarring. And he was, frankly, tired of being carried around. Each moment he spent here, undistracted by other endeavors, was suffocating, like the sides of the bag were closing in tighter and tighter. She stopped moving and he heard the sound of running water. Now was his chance. He lifted a paw up and searched for a way out with one paw. The flap that kept it shut seemed secured somehow, but he kept pushing until it opened with a soft click. At last able to breathe freer air, he burrowed his way out toward the light until he tumbled out of the bag, landing on his feet. He turned around to glare at the human, giving her a "mrrrow" of disapproval as she listened someone's voice over the odd rectangle in her hand. A high-pitched squeal from somebody nearby distracted him from his annoyance, however, and he looked toward its source. Another young woman in the hall had noticed him and turned her full attention toward him. The moment he looked, she knelt down and held out a hand, making 'pspsps' noises. After a moment of staring, he took a few steps away in order to place his contractor between himself and this new stranger, who was beginning to pspspiss him off.

12:03 PM

@Minezra's Not Okay(I Promise)

Lazari turned around, looking down at the tipped over bag, her eyes trailing across her cat and to the girl trying to catch his good graces. She noticed his odd body language, as if the young college girl was a threat. "Mr. Snuggle Kitty, be nice?" Her order was more a question, as if she didn’t trust her judgement of the situation. She went to bend down, to pick him up and comfort him like she would a normal cat but she stopped herself before she even moved. Instead her back muscles twitched and she simply shrugged at the girl who was beginning to raise her eye brow at her. Lazari knelt down and picked up her bag, throwing it over her shoulder as she stepped around the cat and clucking her tongue, hoping he would take the signal to follow her. She had decided to skip class, hoping to avoid seeing anyone else who might recognize her and she felt she owed it to Enkara to give him a moment to breathe outside of her bag. Was art appreciation even an important class? She huffed and started down the hallway, heading towards the door they had come through, hoping to take him to the indoor nursery so he could stretch out. At this point, she wanted him to kill her again. The day was wearing her down, her brain raw and aching from the emotions and alcohol too much to deal with on top of school. It was raining outside, the fogged door with rain droplets dripping down gave her pause, halting her movements as she tried to think of a quiet place for them to skip class in. Behind her, she heard footsteps, making her roll her eyes and turn around her heart nearly stopping in her chest as she stepped back, body pressing against the doors press handle. It was Jasques Venito, and he looked angry. Her eyes widened and stared at him as a grin crossed his face. “Young lady, why did you not answer my call? We have urgent work to do.” Her mouth opened and closed, her hands fumbling around in the air as she tried to formulate some semblance of coherence.

6:49 PM

She was failing, flailing in the waters over conversation. Then he kicked Enkara, moving him out of the way with his foot. She inhaled a tense breath of air and watched as her father stood over her, whiskey on his breath. He interrupted her. “You’re to come to the lab immediately. I have something very important for you to do.” “Yes father, but w-what is so important it can’t wait until our usual time?” She hoped it wasn’t a breakthrough on Sunshine Fever. “I caught that rascal vampire that’s been mimicking Jack the Ripper. I want you to give him a taste of his medicine.” Lazari nodded, the door opening as she stepped further back, holding it for her father. “L-lead the way then, sir.” She glanced down at Enkara nervously, hoping he could read her mind as her thoughts begged him both for release, and for him to hide somewhere, to find her at the entrance of the lab or anything but follow her. Lazari followed the mad doctor, letting the rain wet her hair, plastering it to her face. She hardly noticed, the world ebbing out of her mind. She couldn’t even have her classes without him intruding. And now it was to perform torture, literal torture with no scientific backing. Her mind whimpered but her body was silent, following his hollow footsteps across the campus to the Cornelius Society’s building. She turned around, looking for her demon cat, a part of her wishing he would jump out and kill her, save her, anything. But this moment was not advantageous strategically, so she assumed he would not. @Al the Killer (edited)

Enkara stared at the other human for a moment longer as though glaring into her soul. Clearly, he was not amused by being treated like a cat. Never mind that he was literally in the form of a cat at the moment. He trotted behind Lazari as she walked away, eyeing the humans that they passed to get an idea for the sort of appearance that would be appropriate in this new time he found himself in. Then they stopped, and it didn't take a demonic contract to pick up on the heart-pounding terror radiating off of her. His claws extended, instinct raising the fur on his back. He had no fear for this man, but acknowledged that he may need to be prepared to protect her. Except this form was ineffective, and a foot connected with his flank, pushing him aside. Kill him kill him kill him! He held back. Now was not the time. Instead, he stumbled, hissed, and bounded away, settling down by a nearby wall to watch, his tail lashing from side to side behind him. There was nothing unfamiliar about the proposed task, but nothing scientific about it either. What he could do was bound by her commands - she had insisted on keeping a tight leash, and so he could not act much without explicit permission. He needed a plan, a way to create opportunity. His gaze met hers and he bobbed his head, catching onto more than just a gesture. It seemed her wish to project her thoughts had allowed them to make it to him. He would be able to find her wherever she went, now that the two were bonded.

5:47 AM

For now, he ran away, darting off down the hall until he found his way to an empty corridor. His form shrank down into a small black mouse, and he squeezed under a solid door marked with the stick figure of a person. The room had a few open stalls, and wash basins lining one wall with a mirror above them. Most importantly, nobody was here. He returned to the human form from before but, instead of his outdated clothing, he had a black turtleneck sweater over loose black slacks, with a dark twill sports coat over it. A pretentious academic wouldn't draw as much attention here as he had in feline form. He closed his eyes for a moment, focused on where he could sense the human was going, and stepped out of the bathroom. He took long strides as he left the building, with all the hurriedness expected of a student running late for class. The lab. He didn't know where that was, but his steps would lead him to where Lazari was, at enough of a distance that her father would not suspect that they were being followed. But Enkara's progress was soon interrupted by a man in a white button-up, black trousers, and unnatural smile, standing in front of a rack of religious pamphlets. "Pardon me, sir, but do you have a moment to talk about our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ?" The young human's enthusiastic joy for the topic was almost endearing, even if the clash between the question and Enkara's own nature made him cringe, both inwardly and outwardly. "I actually don't," Enkara said and tried to walk past. Unable to take a hint, the human kept talking, stepping in front of him. "Nobody's soul is ever too busy for salvation. Would you mind at least taking this and reading it later? You won't regret it." Enkara opened his mouth to protest but, as the pamphlet was pressed into his hand anyway, an idea began to form in his mind. Perhaps this would save someone today. "Thank you," he said instead, and continued on his way.

5:48 AM

He kept his distance, waiting in silence for the mortal he hoped to protect to step into that lab with her father. For now, he hoped she knew that he would be there. He could not kill him at this point without it raising suspicions, but a distraction was all he needed to create in order to lift the burden from her. @Minezra's Not Okay(I Promise)

She didn’t see Enkara, which made her scared, sad, confused, feeling the tears catch in her throat, unable to reach her eyes. This was fate, every fiber of her being told her to run, but her perceived fate held her in step with Jasques. Was this even her father at this point? She shook her head, try to make these thoughts disappear, hoping she could just go back to class or sink to the back of her mind, where she could scream. Jasques was rambling, she didn’t pay attention to much of it but caught the cliff notes. You’re not doing enough. You’re just like everyone else. I’m a genius and you’re nothing. You would be nothing without me. I should lock you up with one of them to teach you respect. It was always this, so she tuned him out, simply nodding her head and monotonously affirming his words, quite aware of the repercussions to her psyche this was having. What more could she do? She interrupted him, an accident borne of impatience and her desperate attempt to distract him. “I’ve been studying demons….they sure seem fasci-“ Jasques spun around, staring down at her and making her fall silent as his face fell into a sinister, rage filled glare. He reached out with his boney fingers and gripped the collar of her shirt, which she had worn yesterday, pulling it up and forcing her a few paces forward. She was staring up into his brown eyes, his teeth glaring white as she tried to figure out if he would kill yet or not. “So this is how you choose to waste your free time that I’ve given you? Demons? MYTHS?” She wanted to laugh and so she did. Her face breaking out into girlish giggling before his other hand tightly gripped her face, pressing deep into her cheeks as her grit his teeth. “Such insolence. I thought we were past this.” He let go of her face, red fingerprints marring her pale skin. He waited for her to speak, to explain herself. (edited)

7:02 PM

It didn’t take long for her to catch on, to start burbling out syllables and mumbles, her hands trying to disengage his grip from her shirt. “Well, it’s just, oh you know how it is…hobbies right?” Her answer did not loosen his glare, but it did loosen his grip. He back handed her, watching as she gasped, tears springing in her eyes as she held her face and looked down, her hair obscuring her face. She held the same rage he had for her, staring at his feet. “I understand father…it won’t happen again.” She smiled under her hair, holding back her triumphant laughter. Then she let the expression drop, waiting for him to turn around and continue leading the way.

7:02 PM

@Al the Killer

It was a sudden overflow. The sharp sense of vague danger, then the rage, the understanding that something needed to be destroyed. Enkara stopped walking for a moment, caught off balance by it. In a moment, he spotted the reason, catching sight of the human and her father just as he was letting her go. The campus green wasn't empty, of course. There were plenty of people around to witness the scene, yet not a single one said anything, each of them going about their usual business. Cowards, every single one. He narrowed his eyes, but looked away from the duo, pretending to focus on the pamphlet instead. He didn't need it - demons knew theology as well as the humans who studied it. After a moment, he closed his eyes, focusing less on seeing and more on sensing. It was odd, being out in the human realm and with a contract for the first time. He was still getting used to what he was and wasn't capable of. But when he really focused, there was more than just her presence. Traces of the past, where she was or was not regularly. When his mind sorted through the patterns, they slowly formed into well-beaten paths. He opened his eyes and followed one of those paths, the same direction where they were heading now. His path led to a large white-brick library. Students and professors filtered in and out through the front doors, paying no heed to any one individual. If one walked with enough purpose, they could render themselves entirely anonymous. Such was his goal, as he walked into the bright artificial lights. For a moment, he found himself nearly distracted. Bookshelves lined the walls and formed mazes in-between, stocked with well-organized tomes of all sorts. Berith's archive back in Hell had been magnificent, of course, but this was new, a mecca of literature that had not existed prior to his imprisonment.

4:43 PM

He caught himself staring, wide-eyed, at the shelves of books, and reminded himself of his job. He followed the remaining traces of where she had been so often before that it had imprinted itself onto the world and onto their bond, of where she was likely going. Whether it was his sense of her presence that guided him or some innate wish of hers, he still wasn't sure, but he knew this was where he needed to be. But then the trail ended. He stood in front of a bookshelf in some far-off corner of the library, where hardly anyone seemed to bother venturing and even the lights seemed dimmer, and the trail simply ended here. He frowned, looking up the length of the shelf and toward the ceiling, and contemplated what it could mean. Possibly a hidden passage- As he reached toward one of the books, his attention snapped toward the sound of approaching footsteps. Silently, he pulled his hand away and stepped aside, concealing himself behind a different shelving unit. He looked at the books in front of him intently, as though searching through them as he listened for any steps or voices coming his way.

4:43 PM

@Minezra's Not Okay(I Promise)

Lazari followed behind her father, feeling a bruise forming on her cheek from where his signet ring had collided with her cheek bone. Nothing makeup couldn’t cover, but it would be useless. The student body had seen this and ignored it many times. Only Elias ever said anything and even his words were lackadaisical. The library was an assault on her senses, yet she walked forward, walking in step with her father until that got to the bookshelves which held mere biographies, the lever hidden in a small, plastic bust of Aristotle. He moved the busy forward and the bookshelf clicked, signaling her forward to push it aside. Her skin was lit up with electricity, buzzing with energy. She turned to her left instinctively, looking down the shelves corridor, seeing Him. His human form barely recognizable to her, but the energy was profound and engrained into her soul now. She sighed softly, her body relaxing at his sight. As to not raise suspicion, she pressed forward and pushed the shelf to the side. A small, sterile hallway lay before them, thin strips of LED lights hanging above the tile. Jasques walked in first, ignoring her as she turned around, wondering if Enkara would follow. She wanted him to. She wanted him to see what she dealt with daily, why she had begged him for death. @Al the Killer (edited)

Enkara turned his head for a moment and his eyes met hers. Calm, just for a moment. Then she turned and was walking away, toward a destination he could already tell she was dreading. He had just a moment to peek into the hallway the mechanism had revealed, then back over his shoulder to make sure nobody was looking in his direction. All clear. In an instant, he occupied the form of a small white mouse, and scurried after her. He dove through the hidden doorway as the bookshelf slid to close it once more, following close behind her to avoid catching the doctor's attention. He kept quiet as could be while he scurried to keep up. If the lights in the library had been unnatural, these ones were an atrocity against eyesight. Such a white void of emptiness felt designed to drive the occupant toward madness, but he already understood that the worst was yet to come. He looked up at her as he followed. If he could sense where she was, where she had been, then perhaps he could speak into her mind. It was at least worth a shot. I am here... Can you hear me, Mortal? he asked her, because he still didn't know her name. If you can, try sending your thoughts to me. More than anything, he wanted to be here, to do something at least. But he needed to know what was or was not an available option. He needed to be able to speak to her because, without any discussion on the matter, he would likely end up just killing her father. Which was a short term solution unless they made sure nobody found out about the death. And he at least wanted to know the consequences for her if this man died, first. But killing may not have been the only option. After all, this man wanted little more right now than what he'd spent years doing before his military career had begun.

5:26 AM

@Minezra's Not Okay(I Promise)

Lazari had been mulling over how she might get herself out of this, what they could do, how they would do it. She was coming up blank, it was beginning to look like time would reveal her way out. How much time could she endure? That was when an echoing voice intruded her thoughts, at first she was worried, afraid her father had heard it too, but he did not react. His hand was in his lab coat, shuffling around his magstrip card, oblivious to the demonic presence and the voice she had heard. She gulped a bit, focusing on one thought, and imagining it reverberating out of her mind. I’m here, I’m here, I’m here. She felt calm even when Enkara was merely a mouse. His presence, while locked to her will, which was rather timid at the moment, made her feel seen. Already, she felt like she wasn’t alone. It quelled her urges for the moment. She tried again, this time more urgently. I’m here, I’m here, can you hear me? Was she going insane trying to communicate telepathically with a mouse? It was certifiable. If she ever spoke of this they would lock her up in a padded room with routine medicine drops. But still she waited, ignoring the sound of their shoes across the tile. They had passed by a few doors, heavy looking metal doors with card readers just below the handles. Finally, Jasques stopped at his laboratory, pulling his card from his pocket. Lazari stopped, adjusting her foot to hide the trailing mouse. The door clicked open and her father pushed open the door, holding it open without looking at her. She stooped down quickly and held her hand out to Enkara for him to crawl onto, hoping her father would not see. (edited)

8:23 AM

@Al the Killer

It worked! Enkara couldn't help but feel a rush of relief, as this would make things far easier. At the very least, it lessened any need to create a distraction for her father. I can hear you, he confirmed, stopping his movements as the doctor stopped in front of a door. At the cue, he scurried up her arm and under her sleeve. I'll stop at your shoulder, he assured her, as that would be the first stable, hidden spot for him. From here, he could only hear what was happening, but it would be enough for now. Another idea continued to form in his mind, of ways to get her out of this situation. He recalled old stories of demons possessing humans, of lessons and rules for any work done in the mortal realm. It was convenient in some ways, though this would be an unconventional use for it - to protect rather than to exploit. His progenitor would be hopelessly disappointed in him if he knew. But first, he needed permission. We should take more time to plan his death, he suggested, as though the killing was a given. And it was, was it not, if she was to step out from her father's shadow? But for now, what if I could make it so you don't have to experience this? Your body would, but your mind would have no recollection or consciousness of it, so long as I can access relevant memories and your senses. The offer was out there. Now he just needed a response. Of course, he was aware of what he was asking, the amount of trust required to relinquish control of one's flesh form to another person, let alone a demon she barely knew. Trust or desperation. He was leaning toward the latter; he could practically feel the ragged edges of her mind, the fragility of mortal life. If she stayed in this situation and continued to act out Jasques's wishes on her own, this would kill her sooner rather than later.

4:06 PM

@Minezra's Not Okay(I Promise)

Lazari hesitated to step inside the laboratory, having to force her feet forward. Jasques released the door, making her catch it, slipping around the frame and watching as it shut. Her mind raced as she stepped into the cold, clinical room, her eyes gazing over to the three UV cages, one of them occupied by a disinterested man, his eyes barely moving to look at the two as they entered. She closed her eyes, trying to think, overwhelmed by the reality of telepathic communication, the sudden change in plans, all of it swirled around as the familiar scent of cleaner brought the reality of it all to her. She was about to answer Enkara, to tell him that if he could save her from another day of this, that she wished it, but Jasques turned around looking her in the eyes, clearly eying the bruise forming on her face. “Go prepare the operating room, I wish to speak to the patient alone.” She nodded, dazed, brushing past him. In the center of the room was his desk, messy and cluttered as hers was in her room. As she moved across the room, she grabbed objects here and there, packaged scalpels, gauze, a box of gloves, her hands stilling over the pick and mallet she had used so many times. She felt dizzy, memories clouding her current state, having to force her way out of the haze to get herself into the OR, so she could relinquish control of her body. How would she know that he would give it back when the surgery was done? Did she even care? Lazari dug around her back for the lab coat, dropping her messenger bag just outside the OR door. She pulled the coat on, careful of the mouse that was clinging for dear life on her shoulder, then reached into the pocket. The plastic card was tucked away, and her fingers grazed over its smooth surface, hesitant, before pulling it out.

5:36 PM

The door clicked and she used her back to push it open. She waited for the door to latch shut, setting up the rolling tray of tools. Like any tradesman, she was meticulous about the arrangement of her tools, wearing nitrile gloves to prevent contamination, even if she knew the patient would be dead by the end of the day. “Do it. If you can and truly don’t mind doing so, sparing me even just today would be the weight of the world off my shoulders.” Her voice was choked as if she was holding back tears, her hands making quick work of the packaging around each instrument. She moved around the room, pulling surgical pliers, tongs, clamps, and a few more scalpels from the drawers across the room. Everything was in its place, labels on each drawer which she had made when she had gotten a label maker for Christmas in her youth. She didn’t know if she was talking to Enkara or herself, but it felt good at the very least. As she finished adjusting the tools on her tray, she smiled a bit, realizing that if he had access to her memories, it would alleviate most of the explanations of the technology of the world, and hopefully, he would become just as educated as her if only he paid close enough attention to her firing synapses. “Feel free to poke around and learn a thing or two. I am quite educated and I think the memories of my education might help explain things that I do not know how to put into words for someone as hapless as you.” She paused, wondering if that was callous, but ignored this thought. She pulled the gloves off, preparing to put her hair up, only to realize she didn’t have a hair tie on her wrist as she usually did. This elicited a frown, but it wouldn’t be her fussing with her hair now would it? @Al the Killer

Hapless? Enkara echoed. How... impertinent of you to say. Despite his protests, even his telepathic voice carried an undercurrent of amusement. He had expected more fear from humans, even one who had summoned him. It was a refreshing change from what he had encountered before. I may not have time to peruse, but I'll see what I learn through this process. He left her sleeve, settling on top of her shoulder once more but this time with a view of the supplies she had set out for the surgery. Some had changed from what he was familiar with, but it was easy enough to piece together what they were for. Besides, he would soon know exactly what everything was. There wasn't much time to look now, though. There was no telling how much time they had before her father entered the operating room with his intended victim. The shadows around her shifted, gathering toward her hand before solidifying into a black ribbon for her to use. Or for him to use, rather, as access to other magic would likely be more limited once he occupied her form. Now, relax, he instructed her, trying to sound soothing despite the demonic voice that spoke his words. You will enter a peaceful rest and wake up when we have returned to your dorm safely. You may feel my presence pushing into your mind. Allow it, and this will go smoothly. Deny it, and there is nothing I can do about it. As far as he knew, any legends about demons forcing or tricking their ways into possessing the minds of human hosts were just that - legends, myths used to create unobtainable goals for power. Influence was one thing, possession was another. He doubted he would have to worry about it now, when they had agreed. The mouse on her shoulder vanished, and his presence seemed to wrap around her shoulders like a warm blanket, entreating her to open her mind, to let it be guarded from what was to follow.

12:10 PM

For his part, he braced himself for any impact of her losing consciousness temporarily. Possessions were best carried out in a comfortable position where the host did not have as far to fall. They didn't have time to work that out, so he simply prepared to take over and catch this form, to regain balance before they could fall to the floor.

12:10 PM

@Minezra's Not Okay(I Promise)

She opened her mouth to defend her word choice, to say she didn’t mean it in such an offensive way, but silenced herself. She heard his amusement and let herself smile a bit. For all her sorrow, it felt nice to talk freely, to enjoy someone’s company for once. Her fingers mingled in the shadow ribbon for a moment before she took a deep, steadying breath. She trusted him, without any reason to, she put her life in his hands. Quite literally. She could hear the cage being opened, the electric hum of the cattle prod in her fathers hand, ushering the patient to the door. Just do it, hurry, please. Her silent begging was pathetic, she knew it. But she couldn’t help herself. She had seen so many people flayed open by her hand. The option to escape even just one tempted her into begging and pleading, just as the wish for death had brought her to her knees. Her mind was open, but certainly not clear. It was muddled and sporadic, thoughts and fears bouncing around, her emotions pinballing back and forth. She took deep breaths, waiting for the overwhelming of her mind, unsure of how her mind and body would react to the possession. A sudden, terrifying thought came over her. You have forsaken God, allowed demons into your life and willfully given your body and mind up to one. What will the consequences be? She wondered if he felt her muscles tense, if he heard her every thought as he came into her mind. Then, suddenly, it was dark, empty nothingness. @Al the Killer (edited)

Enkara's consciousness flickered out for a single, terrifying moment. Then he was awake again, falling forward. He held a hand out, catching the new body on the surgical bed. His heart - technically hers, but the one he was borrowing - was still pounding, blood roaring with the residual effects of her fear. He breathed in deep as he set about tying back her hair with the ribbon he'd created from shadow, trying to keep this body calm. Everything hurt, just a little, like hopelessness had physically worn her down over the years, coalescing with poor maintenance to the point where it was a miracle she lived like this. Or perhaps it was the simple reality of occupying a mortal form for the first time, and he would have felt the same no matter how healthy the host. There was no time to dwell on it, as the sound of footsteps approached. He set about finishing the setup, flipping through the repository of knowledge in her brain to get the basic idea of each item's name and function, the surgical process he would be going through. The anatomical aspect of surgery he knew well enough, though some names were new. He slipped the gloves back on as he heard Lazari's father and the vampire stop outside of the door. He tried to remember whether Lazari would be expected to open the door for them or simply stay here and wait for them. Ultimately, there was no correct course of action and Jasques was the sort of man he wouldn't have minded torturing in his prior job. But his rage was not Lazari's. She was... different, which was to be expected. The last thing humans needed was to be more like demons. "Everything is ready," he said, facing the doorway. The voice was technically Lazari's. The natural range stayed the same, the voice recognizable, but his manner of speaking remained his. Fairly monotone, the limited inflection he normally used when he spoke.

5:16 AM

@Minezra's Not Okay(I Promise)

Jasques pushed the door open, his ID card having unlocked it with a small click. Stepping forth was a young looking man. Tawny hair, blue eyes and the parlor of death. Behind him was the mad doctor, a cattle prod in his had, buzzing and sparking as he pushed the button just two watch the electrical arcs. He shot a toothy smile to his daughter before moving around the operating table and motioning the poor man to get on or die. He followed suit, seeming to have that same look Lazari wore on her face when unoccupied by demons. Jasques began to strap him down, large metal straps which went all across the man’s body without obstructing places like the abdomen, throat, muscles he liked to poke around at, and most importantly, his brain. His hands were boney, shaking with age and with drink. His cold eyes shot uo to Lazari expectantly. "Well? Are you going to help or just stand there like a useless lout?" He rolled his eyes and secured the strap across the forehead, leaving room for whatever torture he would demand of the undead brain.

5:39 AM

@Al the Killer

The old doctor looked... breakable, and Enkara had to admit the temptation to snap his bones one by one was there. Not now, though. He wouldn't rob his host of the satisfaction of experiencing his downfall. He didn't speak in response to the question, instead stepping into action, helping with the straps, checking to make sure the patient was secured. The straps had to be solid to prevent the vampire from escape, though truly, it took a mad fool to think vivisecting a vampire was a good idea. One small misstep, and they were good as dead. Well... he would be fine. With the vampire secured, he stepped around to the cart holding the tray of tools of the surgery. Incisions first - infection and blood loss were not a concern in this case, and sedation would only make the process less satisfying to a sadistic doctor. He picked up a scalpel as he sifted through Lazari's memories of the vampire's crimes. A taste of his own medicine, as the doctor had said. Jack the Ripper had been a serial killer after Enkara's own imprisonment, but seemed to be a commonly-told tale nowadays, paralleled by this vampire's actions. Possibly even copied directly. And, seeing as there wasn't much left to learn from surgery on fairly average vampires... "Throat first?" he guessed, considering the order of the wounds inflicted on the victims. "Or should we trepan him, to get a good look at his brain while he's still alive?" He spoke with a detached professionalism, albeit with consideration to the doctor's own twisted interests.

6:07 AM

@Minezra's Not Okay(I Promise)

Jasques looked surprised, but a sadistic grin crossed his lips, yellowing teeth peeking out as he watched his daughter speaking in that matter of fact tone she always held. "We have plenty of time for the brain, I think starting with the throat would be a good study for you. Layer by layer though so you can find the thyroid and get a good look at the muscle groupings." He stepped away from the patient, the man’s eyes already dead, staring blankly at the ceiling, light dancing in his eyes. Jasques pulled a chair from the side of the room, sitting out of the way of the operation. He enjoyed their screams, but doubted this one would do much at all. He seemed detached already. This wouldn’t be as fun, but he always enjoyed the show either way. "After the throat I think an abdomen dissection is in order. I still haven’t figured out how they convert blood…it will be essential for the virus to transmit through their digestion process." He seemed to be idly talking himself through his research, as if Lazari was merely a sounding board for his ‘important work’.

9:59 AM

@Al the Killer

The virus. It took a moment to sort through Lazari's memories and piece together what research he was talking about. The man truly was a sadistic freak. He listened, but turned his gaze down at the vampire bound in front of him. Steady and methodical. That was the way this was done. The throat had a lot going on, vital organs that were easily severed if he hit just the right - or wrong - spot. A merciful, quick death wasn't the way here, so he took care as he sliced through the layers of skin at the front of the throat, avoiding both the jugular and the carotid for now. The incisions held intent in every motion, peeling back the layers and clamping them in place where appropriate to avoid anything falling back in his way. "Are the vocal cords to remain intact?" he guessed, prodding slightly at the flaps of skin there. "The patient is already dissociated - to an impressive degree almost - so I doubt he'll use them much." It was still bloody work. There had been no anesthesia and there was no avoiding the minor blood vessels that spread everywhere through the body. Anatomically speaking, the differences between vampires and humans were deeper than the surface. Chemical, largely, with only a few structural changes here and there. Primarily in the digestive system, from what was already known and what could be inferred. He squinted beneath the surgical lights overhead as he worked. Though they did not weaken him enough to threaten his hold on his host, he had to admit that he looked forward to being free from their glare. But they were necessary for now, to properly see inside of this body.

2:28 AM

@Minezra's Not Okay(I Promise)

This went on for hours. Jasques pointing, huffing at her as she made sloppy attempts to excise organs and the different lobes of the poor vampires brain. His liquor sloshed around in the bottle as he threw his head back, drinking the clear liquid. It was a miracle he didn't decide it was Lazari's turn to let loose. After there was hardly anything left of the man who once lay motionless on the table, he huffed for a final time, pushing himself up from his chair and wandering over to her side. He watched for a few more silent moments before grunting and exhaling. "That's enough for today, I am tired of watching your pathetic attempts. Do not come here tomorrow with this attitude or there will be serious consequences." He moved around the table to look down into the deadened eyes of the vampire, his body still alive, god knows where the mans consciousness was. Jasques seemed to delight in this dull expression, a smile cracking at the corners of his lips, too drunk to pull a full expression. He waddled out of the operating room and sat down in his chair, slumping over his desk and rifling through his research. @Al the Killer

The hours grated on Enkara's nerves. That wasn't true. The task itself was fine, for what it was. Grisly, and so different in technique from what he was used to, as he was unaccustomed to the steady hand and precision that surgery called for, but fine. What bothered him was the observer, offering disapproval while not lifting a hand to make a single useful contribution. Just as he thought he was getting the hand of this, the jackass spoke. "Attitude?" he questioned, unsure of what the man was even talking about when he had been nothing short of compliant. Eager to contribute to the work, even, or so he'd pretended. But now was not the time to argue, no matter how much he wanted to paint the walls with this man's blood. He dipped his head respectfully. "My apologies. I will make sure to be better next time." He opted out of further conversation if it could be avoided, instead focusing his attention on the cleaning procedures. After all, if it were to keep up the pretense of a legitimate scientific facility, the lab needed to keep up its sterile appearance at the very least. He took great care to make sure everything was sterilized and properly in its place, then checked again in case he had missed anything. Once he was sure everything was finished, he walked over to Jasques. "Do you want me to help with anything else?" he asked, hoping that he would be given permission to leave instead. This was not how he'd hoped to spend his limited time in a human body.

2:52 PM

@Minezra's Not Okay(I Promise)

Jasques grunted, lifting his hand and lazily waving it back toward the door. He had his eyes to a microscope, moving the slide around with one hand and writing notes with the other. He didn't bother to look her way. "Yeah, whatever. You can have tomorrow off to make up for the classes you missed today. Your work was shoddy today. I expect full recover by Thursday." He finally looked up from the microscope, going over her attire and appearance for the first time today. He snorted indignantly at her greasy hair, dirty clothes, and her smudged day old eyeliner. "You look like shit. Don't come here in that shirt again this week." That was all, he turned back to his work and ignored his child, ignored the exhausted look on her face, ignored the signs that were telling him she was in danger, ignored the fact that it wasn't even her consciousness behind those tired blue eyes. @Al the Killer

Finally, he could agree with this man on one thing. Granted, Jasques was probably a major factor in why this body looked and felt like shit. "I won't," he promised, before slipping out of the lab as though he couldn't leave nearly quickly enough. That had been nothing short of exhausting, and he wasn't about to return a body to its original occupant in this state. He may have been a demon, but even he had to have some principles. He searched Lazari's memories before stopping by the campus dining hall for a quick meal, artfully dodging human interaction beyond the bare minimum, lest someone more astute realize that he was not truly Lazari. Truthfully, he couldn't tell what time it was, but it didn't seem particularly busy at this hour, which was a small mercy. Once he felt he'd had enough fresh fruit and water - the only things he could find there that didn't reek of salt - to feel like a person again, he hurried out, using her memories to map his way back to the dorms. Once inside the building itself, he slowed his progress, looking down each corridor, noting how architecture had changed. Or at least how different it was from what he had been used to in Hell, if it had ever been similar. At last, he found himself in front of her dorm room, searched for the key, and let himself in, immediately stepping into the bathroom. "You really do look like shit," he muttered. "Guess I didn't notice when you were ordering me to kill you." He looked down at the clothes she was wearing. These definitely won't do. He washed her face first, locating a few wipes to make the process of getting the old makeup off easier before undressing and stepping into the shower. Then immediately yelping and leaping back out as the water ran out cold at first. Once it was running hot, he stepped in. Though his plan had been a quick shower, the warm water was stronger than he was, washing the tension out of those borrowed muscles.

5:01 PM

He wasn't sure how much time passed before he finally turned the water off and stepped out, drying the body off with a towel. What he was sure of was that occupying it was already a lot less awful. So this was how humans felt while clean and fed. Their survival suddenly made more sense to him. He stretched for a moment before walking back out to the room and choosing some comfortable clothes to lie around in. Much better indeed. With a sigh of relief, he finally settled onto the bed, letting her head hit the pillow before reaching out to the dormant mind the body truly belonged to. I will return you to yourself, Lazari, he said, mind-to-mind. But I do advise you get some real sleep. You are safe now. Tomorrow, you will have your classes and your father will not demand your presence in the lab. Already, he could feel himself slipping away from this mortal flesh, taking his true form once more at her bedside. @Minezra's Not Okay(I Promise)

Lazari awoke in her body, staring up at the ceiling a bit dazed, his words still ringing in her head. Her lips curled into a smile as she sat up, clearly not ready for bed. She looked over her room, eyes sliding over the demon and back to herself, studying her fingers as she opened and closed her fist. It had been like she was sleeping, dreamless and refreshing. Her body was tired, but her mind was alight with the possibilities of what just had transpired. She broke into laughter before swinging her legs over and standing up, moving to her dresser and closet. "I promised you a night of revelry, dear friend, and who am I to deny you that after you dealt with my father all day?" Her demeanor was almost giddy, her mind trying to wrap itself around how this could be possible, how something could inhabit her mind and body while she was simply away. She went into the bathroom, digging through her makeup and pulling out white foundation, the basis of the evening's attire. Lazari put her hair back with a headband and began the laborious process of doing her makeup. "What was it like to inhabit my body?" She asked as she used her blending brush to lay foundation over her nose, fussing with its opacity. @Al the Killer

Enkara attempted to make his disapproval obvious through the movements of the shadows that surrounded him, before deciding that a disappointed sigh would do a better job of it. Yet he couldn't bring himself to argue, as he was curious as to what a night of revelry entailed in this new era. He followed after her, only to see her painting something white on her face. Though the way she did it seemed less like a noblewoman and more like a mime. "Really?" he asked. "I just washed that." He shook his head and crossed his arms, before answering her question. "The fact that your frail mortal form has remained intact while being so poorly maintained is nothing short of a miracle - and that is not a word I use lightly. If you were to properly care for your body, inhabiting it might have felt less reminiscent of being in hell." He shifted back down to his human form, in the same dark clothes of an academic he had been wearing earlier, and squinted at the white powder. It worked decently enough for her pale complexion, but he would absolutely not be caking his face in any of that. Or imitating its appearance, for that matter - he quite liked his current form the way it was. "So, is this some sort of ritual, or just war paint? From what I recall, the plan was simply to go to a tavern." Then again, taverns and war were not mutually exclusive forms of revelry. @Minezra's Not Okay(I Promise)

Lazari thought for a moment, then smiled as she pulled out her setting powder…which was just some flour she put in a container, and dabbed it onto her face. Finally she found the words to describe it to him, her hand reaching into her makeup bag for a fluffy brush. "It’s purely decorative. Meant to shock those who would try to contain me and impress those who might love me." She carefully brushed away the excess flour and looked in the mirror, her eyes searching for imperfections. After finding none it was onto the black. She shaped her eyebrows, ran dark lines down her nose, exaggerated the shape of her eyes with long, curved, beak-like shapes in the inner corners and sharp edges pulling the outer corners out. She used black eyeshadow as lipstick and finally pulled away to examine once more. Her fingers moved through her hair, trying to decide if she would subject him to the copious amounts of hairspray it took to keep a bats nest in the air all night. She chewed her lip before turning around, still undecided. "I’m thinking a classic eighties look. Leather skirt, fishnets on the arms, band tee tucked into a studded belt?" She was thinking out loud as she rummaged through draws and finally her closet, pulling out a leather trenchcoat jacket as well. It occurred to her that some of these descriptions would probably have thrown him wildly off, which just lead her to more questions. The air in between them was finally clear and free of all responsibility and it had her mind asking so many questions. "So why is it you haven’t been able to keep up with humanity? Does your kind simply not get the channels for it….uhm…down there?" She had paused in her speech, pointing to the floor nervously before continuing her sentence. It was as if she felt it would be rude to mention his abode directly.

10:27 AM

@Al the Killer

Enkara listened to her explanation, contemplating her words. It was easy to dismiss it as pointless, but when she worded it like that... "So it is war paint," he concluded, because that was the easiest way to understand it. He watched the process curiously, offering no opinion on her idea of outfit. Half of the words barely made sense anyway, so it was ultimately her choice and he would wait and see. He would stay as he was. Human and dressed in modern clothing would be fine, and at least they would be colour-coordinated judging from the clothes she was pulling from her dresser. Mindful of human standards of modesty - never mind that he had already occupied her body - he turned away from her as he addressed her question. "You can speak of demons and of Hell directly while we are alone, you know," he commented. "You sealed your fate by summoning me, so saying the proper words can't make it any worse." He looked down, twisting the golden bracelet around his wrist with the opposite hand as he considered his answer. The truth was bound to be known eventually, if they were to be contracted for the rest of her life. "There are several means by which demons can know the state of the mortal realm. Those who have contact with souls of the dead can simply question them. Some of the lords of Hell are nigh-omniscient in their own right. There are scrying spells and ways to visit the mortal realm if they have business doing so." He tilted his head to one side, staring at the wall as he gathered his words. "None of these methods were accessible from where I was imprisoned. Until I heard your voice, there was simply... emptiness." He chanced a glance over his shoulder in her general direction. "Anyway, to catch you up on what happened while you were resting, your father gave you tomorrow's reprieve from his work, so that you can catch up on the classes you missed."

3:54 PM

@Minezra's Not Okay(I Promise)

Lazari changed quickly, shoving herself into a black leather pencil skirt, jumping up and down to push herself into it. Fishnets cut to fit over her head slipped on under her shirt which she tucked in nicely. This process happened while he spoke, until a word shook her to her core. She stopped and turned to look at him, perplexed beyond understand. Imprisoned. The word echoed in her mind over his next sentence. It’s drove her to the brink of insanity and pulled her back. How could something so powerful be imprisoned. And what could he possibly have done that wouldn’t be smiled upon by demonic entities? She opened her mouth to ask, but she closed it and turned back to her clothes, deciding she shouldn’t pry if he didn’t want to talk about it. She wandered over to her mirror and looked over the outfit so far, frowning at her bare legs. She took off the fishnets on her arms and pulled out a different pair, putting them on under the skirt. She took a deep breath, steadying her nerves. This was her demon…she was allowed to ask impertinent questions. "If you don’t mind me asking… " she sat down in her bed, pulling on her boots. "Why were you imprisoned?" She zipped each one up, standing back up to inspect, finally having to decide one whether or not to tease her hair. All made up like this, she grew excited and moved passed Enkara, turning to look at him, noticing his fingers on the bracelet. It occurred to her that this must be why he appeared in shackles, not because of her spell, but because of his own actions. She turned away and wandered back to the bathroom, digger around for her brush, a large tooth comb, and hairspray getting to work on back combing and spraying the sections as she did so.

4:27 PM

@Al the Killer

It took a moment to form the words in his mind, the right way to say it without going off on a rant that might fly over the head of someone unfamiliar with the hierarchies and politics of demons. He glanced over at her as she passed by him, noting that modern human attire was certainly varied, to say the least. Should he put in an effort to look more unkempt...? He pushed that question aside for now, since he still needed to answer hers. "Sedition, officially," he said plainly after a moment, then decided that called for more explanation. "While a lot of demons pride themselves on their reputation as inherently chaotic entities, in reality Hell is an aristocracy, and rather strict on that matter. I had hopes of... correcting the incongruency, so to speak. Apparently, Berith didn't like the demon he created for war actually waging war. " He paced the bedroom as he spoke, not wanting to stand still while waiting for her to get ready. Did humans always take this long to prepare for a tavern now? Half the layers of older times, yet twice the time... Or perhaps he had simply grown impatient after how long he had waited to simply be allowed to move at all. He paused by the window, looking outside at the darkening sky before continuing his pacing. "I think that's enough about past failures," he said. "What sort of tavern is this, exactly? Are people ordinarily-?" He stopped talking as he caught a glimpse of her hair. "...Again. I just washed that."

5:10 AM

@Minezra's Not Okay(I Promise)

"Failures? If you’re being punished then it wasn’t that big of a failure, you just didn’t make it this time." She finished her hair off with hair spray, enough to tear a new hole in the ozone, holding her head upside down for volume. She spoke while hanging upside down like this, waiting for her hair to dry. "Surely there is something you can do to get back in favor and try again?" She looked at him through her legs, watching him as he grimaced at her ‘dirtying’ her hair. She shook it out further, gently touching it to check the hairsprays dryness. She flipped her hair up and over, reshaping and separating to create the puffed shape she wanted. It was big and messy, blackish bluish locks scrunched up and flowing in crazy directions. She smiled in the mirror and then looked back at him. He would just have to see the club for himself, she had no way to give him a point of reference for such an affair, but it would be fun to finally have someone to talk to who wouldn’t risk her being caught. She looked at him, wondering if she should try to change his attire, but trying to change anything about anyone made her wrinkle her nose in disgust at herself. "Ready?" She asked, her voice sweet and excitable as the night grew closer.

1:49 PM

@Al the Killer

There was something simultaneously comical and reassuring about her confidence in the context of a failed coup d'état. He couldn't help but smile ever so slightly despite the horror of watching her do... whatever that was to her hair. It was not necessarily shock about the result, so much as watching the futility of his efforts as it was all undone. Also the amount of chemical particulate that lingered in the air. Humans truly did like to live as though they were immortal. "I was given the choice between eternal imprisonment and death, so most likely, the chance for redemption was not in the cards to begin with. But in practice... maybe. It could all come down to how my time in the mortal realm goes, what sorts of havoc we wreak." He considered for a moment longer, eyes on her. "Perhaps you would make a good demon some day. We shall see." He looked down at his own attire, considerably different from hers. But given her present appearance, it did not seem as though conformity was the purpose of any of this. This outfit would suffice, if only until he obtained more information and a sample size larger than one to observe. "As I will ever be," he said at last. He crossed to the door in a few long strides, holding it open and stepping aside for her. "Lead the way, Mortal." Even though he knew her name by now, old habits truly did die hard.

4:30 PM

@Minezra's Not Okay(I Promise)

Lazari watched his smile and felt it was contagious. How funny it was for a demon to smile, how bubbly it made her feel inside. She chided herself silently for being so lonely that a demons minimal, desperate, and most certainly sadistic attention could give her such delight. She moved around him over to her window pushing it up with an unladylike grunt. Once it was open, a sudden realization passed through her. She shoved her hands into her pockets and pulled out the crumpled bits of cash. She has one crumpled five, a few ones, and a well worn tenner. She would deal with their entrance fee with the rest of her money, but maybe they could score free drinks. She ducked down and slipped out into the night onto the emergency stairwell, looking at the flickering street lamps as they came on. "I don’t think I’d make a good demon in the sense that most demons are. I think they would laugh me out of…court? You did call it an aristocracy." She looked back at him, leaning against the iron railing to give him room to crawl out of the window. One day in the mortal realm and he was already sneaking out with her to get drunk. "I do enjoy parties though. Actually, other my private intellectuals endeavors, these kinds of things are really the only other thing I do. And if my father found out I’d be locked up with those specimens of his in a heartbeat."

4:45 PM

@Al the Killer

He looked over at her by the window, then at the door he was holding, then at the window again. Oh, so they were being stealthy then. He closed the door and approached the window, looking down at the emergency stairwell. Something felt... wrong about it, though he couldn't place exactly what it was. He let her climb out first. "They wouldn't laugh you out of court," he 'assured' her. "Were they to reject you, the process would be far more violent." He followed after her, and it was only when his hand touched the railing that he realized the source of his hesitation. It wasn't a sudden drain, but he could feel the energy slowly sap out of him, a steady weakening. His hand snapped away from the rail as he grimaced at it, shaking his hand to rid it of the faint burning sensation left by the moment of contact. The faster they made it to the ground, the better. "Are humans making stairs out of iron now?" he remarked as he began to hurry down, relying on agility alone to keep him from tumbling off the narrow steps. "I'm guessing a solid gold staircase would be too conspicuous?" The temptation to transform it anyway lingered, prevented only by the fact that he could only change metals to gold, not from it. Once his feet touched solid ground, he took a few more steps away before turning to wait for Lazari, who he assumed - and hoped for the sake of prolonging her life and by extension their contract - would be walking down at a more reasonable pace.

4:45 AM

@Minezra's Not Okay(I Promise)

Lazari had been thinking a bit too deeply about what a hellish court would look like, what they would do to someone they rejected. She noticed him move passed her and was about to answer his remark, looking up from her feet to do so. She leaned over the railing to look at the ground below, seeing him already down there. She wanted to ask but the thought of yelling the question down to him ruffled her feathers. She stepped down each step carefully, quietly, her eyes darting around the empty campus walk. Her feet touched concrete and she felt slightly dizzy, like the world came up to meet her too quickly, but a few seconds on solid ground took this feeling away. Her voice was quiet but not a whisper as she spoke, moving out from the building and towards the gate. The air was chilled by now, the sun gone and star beginning to pile into the sky, but she seemed unbothered, walking in steady, confident strides now that there was no one else around. "So, you’re allergic to metal? Or is it just iron?" @Al the Killer

Enkara walked close to Lazari so they could converse. While he could hear perfectly fine even when she spoke softly, he wanted to be sure she could hear while he matched her volume. His eyes remained ahead, taking in and memorizing the route to leave the university grounds. "Just iron," he said. "And 'allergic' is... well, I am not allergic in the sense some humans may be allergic to..." He trailed off, trying to remember the modern medical knowledge he'd pulled from her mind for an example. "...Peanuts? But more the way someone like me would be 'allergic' to holy water." Perhaps the only difference was that the word itself had not been in use when he had been created. The fresh, cooling air was a refreshing change from the stuffy dormitory building, or worse yet, the sterile lab. He drew in a breath, smiling faintly to himself as he allowed his eyes to shut for a brief moment. A new experience, but he could already tell that he would enjoy nights in the human world. He opened his eyes again so he could focus on where they were going, thinking about how much time must have passed since he had even been able to use a fraction of his power. "Speaking of metal, there is one thing I can do with it. It could be useful if you have something small you're willing to give up. Even just a coin." With the air of the living realm to energize him, he wanted to at least make this pact worthwhile. There was no telling whether he would be able to enjoy his freedom once she was dead, after all. @Minezra's Not Okay(I Promise)

Lazari watched him from the corner of her eye, taking in the sight of him relishing the cool, fresh air. It was odd that this had been a blob of shadows and tendrils last night. Shackled to a magic circle of her own making he had seemed terrifying, but here, in the cold moonlight, he seemed... Her thoughts stuttered as he spoke, rattling her away from her rumination, to whatever it was he was positing. They were approaching the wrought iron gates, so she stepped a few paces ahead of them so she could open it for him. "I might have something." She pulled open the pedestrian gate, nervously glancing behind him. There weren't usually people out and about, but it would have been just her luck to get caught with some strange man no one had ever seen. Lazari had already been in her jacket pockets, so she checked the small pockets of her skirt, finding only the small, metal button that was meant to replace the one on the skirt were it to go missing. It felt like aluminium, but he didn't specify what kind of metal it had to be. As he approached, she offered the small thing out to him, looking up a bit sheepishly. "Does this work?"

9:36 PM

@Al the Killer

Enkara let her walk ahead, only fully catching up to walk beside her once they were past the gate. Once he did, he took the button in hand, turning it over between his fingers. Small, probably a lower-quality alloy, but metal nonetheless. That was what mattered. He looked around, making sure again that there was nobody near enough to notice anything unusual. It was his impression that most humans no longer believed in demons, or in magic. She didn't want to get caught, so he didn't want to draw any attention to the two of them. "It works just fine." He held the button so that she would still be able to see it, to know this was no trick or sleight of hand. The nearest shadows pulled toward him, up to the tiny disc of metal to engulf it momentarily. It didn't take long before they drifted back into place, leaving a piece the same size, shape, and functionality, but with the yellowish shine of newly-polished gold. He held it back out to her in the palm of his hand. "...Is that confirmation enough that other metals won't be a problem?" He placed his hands back into his pockets, looking ahead as he walked. "Do with that information what you will, though I suggest sparingly." Suddenly carrying large amounts of gold would be nothing short of suspicious, after all. That, and greed was an incredibly boring vice for a human to become fixated on.

6:38 AM

@Minezra's Not Okay(I Promise)

Lazari held the button in her hand, walking absent-mindedly before realizing Enkara didn't know where they were going and she would have to focus. She put the button in her jacket pocket, thumbing it as she thought of the uses for this power. Turn anything into gold as long as it was metal. She did not care much for gold jewelry, but she did know the pawn shops might if she needed money fast to get out of London. "We don't use gold anymore, everything is cash. But thank you, it's impressive. Men have studied alchemy for years to do what you have shown me in seconds." She looked out into the night, a few cars passed them by, giving her pause to think about it all. In the midst of a pact which chained her to Hell, she felt free. Her thumb ran circles over the button as she guided them through the city, passing people who looked twice over the odd pair, cars that ignored their presence. "Did you happen to learn what a car is while you were running about my mind today? They are quite fascinating." She was attempting small talk, something she was not used to. To her, it felt jilted and meaningless, but this was what she watched people do. They talked of the weather and of politics, but what would her newfound friend know of such things? "It uses electricity...through motors and small controlled explosions, its propelled forward." (edited)

@Al the Killer

Ah, yes, cash. The time humans switched from something with value to paper that meant nothing outside of specific jurisdictions and called it an improvement. That particular aspect of his magic would require a few extra steps to render useful in this new, modern world, but nothing was ever useless, so long as enough thought was put into it. For now, he simply accepted the praise for what it was and followed alongside her. Horseless carriages roared past them, noisy and carrying a sharp, acrid smell to them. He tried not to stare or make his curiosity too obvious, while they were out in public. She was already explaining what they were and how they worked, and he vaguely remembered a glimpse of them from her mind. Large, potentially lethal - in fact, the one murder weapon humans seemed most likely to be able to use for such a purpose without consequence. "Ah yes, the combustion engine, correct?" he recalled. "It really is fascinating. Mort- I mean, people are always so good at inventing new tools for self-destruction." He could practically feel its impact, as though the air itself was being slowly choked by it. "What is especially impressive is the way that modern human life has been structured to mandate the furtherance of that destruction for anyone who spends any of their time outside of the city. It is..." He paused to draw in a deep breath. Now that the initial relief of no longer being trapped inside had passed, he could feel what the industrial revolution had done to this city. He recalled from past dead souls he had spoken with that London had always smelled like shit, but this was different. "...Diabolical." He said the last word as though rather impressed. After a moment longer, he lowered his voice again. "I have heard that humans like to make 'small talk'. Am I doing this right?" (edited)

4:36 AM

@Minezra's Not Okay(I Promise)

Lazari had been watching him as they walked, knowing he only had a few more blocks until the sounds of goth rock and drunken partying overwhelmed their senses and lulled them away from such conversation. She could see his mind wrapping itself around this new world, this strange world. She had been nodding along to his sentiments until he began talking quieter, his comment making her cover her mouth and giggle. "I’m not well socialized myself. We will have to try our skills on the barflies." The building came into view. An unmarked entrance with a painted black door and muffled thudding, haunting sounds coming from inside. Beside the door was a bouncer and she chewed in her lip, looking up at him. ID was something she had spaced on. No way they were getting passed the bouncer without Enkara having ID. "You wouldn’t happen to have mind control would you? » She paused for a moment and shook her head. "Nevermind, just act old enough to be in a bar without and ID, like 30 or something." She stepped out into the road, looking both ways and jaywalking across. The bouncer seemed to ignore them until they were right up on his sidewalk. She found his purposeful inattention to be dangerous, but settled in her paranoia being the cause of such a swiveled head. "Hi!" She tried to sound excited and kind as she reached into her coat pocket and pulled out her wallet. The bouncer lifted his hand quietly and opened the door for them, apparently feeling generous or lazy. Little did she know, across the street was his dealer waiting for them to leave. So she walked in shocked, merrily entering the club. She turned around to make sure Enkara got the same treatment, smiling as the bouncer waved him through.

9:52 AM

@Al the Killer

Enkara shook his head, because he did not, in fact, have mind control powers. Demons could lie and manipulate, but their modes of operation did not extend to outright control; any human who did as a demon asked, did so of their own free will, albeit often misinformed. Vampires were a different story at times, but he did not fall into that category. What he did have was illusory magic. "No, but if you show me what an 'ID' is, I can pretend to have one," he whispered. "Trust me, it would work." It proved unnecessary, though, as the doorman was not paying any attention to them. He made the same gesture as Lazari had, reaching for a pocket, but was waved through with barely a glance. He walked past, catching up to and keeping close to Lazari to avoid being lost amongst the crowd. And an interesting crowd it was, an draped in an array of black fabrics with the occasional shock of intensely unnatural colour. Their movements appeared ritualistic at moments. The music that surrounded them was unlike any he had heard before, but recognizable as such through its components. The smell of alcohol cut through, more than the scent of any of the people there. This was certainly not the taverns he had heard stories of, nor of the ones he had experienced in Hell. After a moment's deliberation, he decided that his current attire would suffice, since it was black. Perhaps less... creative than others, but at least he'd nailed it on the colour scheme. He spoke into her mind, to make sure he would be heard despite the noise but not overheard. 'I do not see any of the flies you were intending to practice speaking to,' he commented. Having spent his lifetime in the same plane of existence occupied by the likes of Beelzebub, he had not even questioned her wording or why she would wish to practice small talk with flies - he had simply taken it at face value.

3:26 AM

@Minezra's Not Okay(I Promise)