Fantasy Magic Brew Cafè (CLOSED)

[Dnaleri017]

Oliver reached down and pulled off his shoes before jumping down on the ground, feeling it sink a little under his weight. With a small sigh, he stretched out his toes, enjoying the feeling of the scorching heat radiating up this legs. "Look, I have been properly entertained, and it's been fun watching you do your little science experiment and all, but I have a message to deliver," He informed him, absentmindedly plucking pieces of pine cone and dirt of his new kicks, "And when I said that wards usually don't keep me out, I meant it. Keep these safe for me for a few seconds, will you?"
With that, he handed his precious shoes to the fallen angel Mazus, before grabbing his hand, taking off in the direction of the building, whistling innocently as they passed the barriers. Nobody ever thought to ward against imps, who were considered weaklings by the upper class demons. The wards were almost always designed for the bigger, more powerful creatures. Oliver used this to his advantage and let out a high pitched giggle as he felt the seal wash over him, letting him through. Turning around to face the fallen, he did a little dance, grinning at him cheekily.


"That was unpleasant wasn't it?" He snickered, patting away a stray flame from Mazus' sleeve, before holding his hands out for his shoes.


@Dnaleri017

Mazus flinched after entering the barrier and handed the shoes back to Oliver. "It tickled yes. Now for my turn." Placing a hand on one of Oliver's horns they appeared behind Vincent within the manor. "Vincent, Oliver has a message and I have a vow to fulfill."


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[Cryobionic]

"Woah, duuude," Oliver stumbled a little grabbing onto his horns, giggling madly, "That was so awesome! Can we do that again?" Seeing the look on Mazus' face, he shrugged, and turned to face the demon in the room, who was looking at them shocked and duly noting the fairy boy in the corner. Stuffing one hand into his pocket, he pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and straightened it out on the fallens upper arm.


Looking down on the paper, he straightened his back, cleared his throat and began reading it in an overly dramatic, dull nasaly voice,


"Because of the numerous recent deaths of supernatural beings, which have been recorded by our esteemed grim reapers, result of the rebellion started by one Vincent Buckley, demon of the third degree, son of Archdemon Serathi, we of the Brimstone order have been forced to take action. Your fight has not gone unnoticed, and while we cannot offer you any assistance without violating the laws of Hell, we are sending a servant to keep an eye out for you and your group. He will act as a mediator between our planes, and will- Wait, what."


Oliver stared down at the page, his brow furrowing. Servant? Act as a mediator?


....................


Vincent tried to collect himself as he heard the scrawny imp talk, his mind racing a mile a minute. Not only had the two of them popped in so unexpectedly, and so quickly that he hadn't gotten the chance to respond to the prince, but now he was getting a message from the Brimstone Order? Running a hand through his hair, pulling at it painfully to get rid of the knots, he sighed and slumped.


It wasn't that he had been expecting the order to send an army, or help in any way even, but them sending a lowly imp was just a kick in the stomach all together. And what was all this nonsense about acting as a mediator? Was the order going to step in should the death toll get high enough? Vincent doubted it.


Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he looked at the small creature, now repeating the words "no" and "No way" over and over again to himself. This would only make things worse, he knew. He glanced up at Mazus, and nodded solemnly. "Let's go get Spooks, and get out of here."


@Metaphysics

 

[Dnaleri017]

"Woah, duuude," Oliver stumbled a little grabbing onto his horns, giggling madly, "That was so awesome! Can we do that again?" Seeing the look on Mazus' face, he shrugged, and turned to face the demon in the room, who was looking at them shocked and duly noting the fairy boy in the corner. Stuffing one hand into his pocket, he pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and straightened it out on the fallens upper arm.
Looking down on the paper, he straightened his back, cleared his throat and began reading it in an overly dramatic, dull nasaly voice,


"Because of the numerous recent deaths of supernatural beings, which have been recorded by our esteemed grim reapers, result of the rebellion started by one Vincent Buckley, demon of the third degree, son of Archdemon Serathi, we of the Brimstone order have been forced to take action. Your fight has not gone unnoticed, and while we cannot offer you any assistance without violating the laws of Hell, we are sending a servant to keep an eye out for you and your group. He will act as a mediator between our planes, and will- Wait, what."


Oliver stared down at the page, his brow furrowing. Servant? Act as a mediator?


....................


Vincent tried to collect himself as he heard the scrawny imp talk, his mind racing a mile a minute. Not only had the two of them popped in so unexpectedly, and so quickly that he hadn't gotten the chance to respond to the prince, but now he was getting a message from the Brimstone Order? Running a hand through his hair, pulling at it painfully to get rid of the knots, he sighed and slumped.


It wasn't that he had been expecting the order to send an army, or help in any way even, but them sending a lowly imp was just a kick in the stomach all together. And what was all this nonsense about acting as a mediator? Was the order going to step in should the death toll get high enough? Vincent doubted it.


Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he looked at the small creature, now repeating the words "no" and "No way" over and over again to himself. This would only make things worse, he knew. He glanced up at Mazus, and nodded solemnly. "Let's go get Spooks, and get out of here."


@Metaphysics

Mazus nodded and grabbed Oliver and Vincent appearing in the room Mazus freed the souls. "The next floor down is where everyone is at. Oliver, if anyone passes by with a dagger and does not look like these people," tapping the imps forehead he implanted images of his dagger and his and Vincent's allies, "Retrieve the dagger please. I must not lose it."


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[Cryobionic]

Oliver went a little cross eyed when the fallen tapped his forehead, but the images of the people he was supposed to look out for filled his head, and he couldn't help but smile when Mazus' feelings for those people slipped in as well. It was sickeningly sweet.


"I'll look out for them, and if I see that dagger of yours, I'll holler."


Nodding at them both, he watched as they began walking away from him, smiling innocently until they were out of sight. When the duo turned the corner, he lost his facade and ran off, determined to get out of this madness as soon as possible. Servant my ass.


................


The demon scratched the back of his head as he looked at his companion, his eyes lost. "Do we have a plan?" He asked quietly, "Do we know what's waiting for us? Who the enemy is?"


As he asked this, goosebumps began appearing on the unscarred parts of his arms, and he frowned. Why was he feeling like they were walking straight into a trap?


@Metaphysics

 

[Dnaleri017]

Oliver went a little cross eyed when the fallen tapped his forehead, but the images of the people he was supposed to look out for filled his head, and he couldn't help but smile when Mazus' feelings for those people slipped in as well. It was sickeningly sweet.
"I'll look out for them, and if I see that dagger of yours, I'll holler."


Nodding at them both, he watched as they began walking away from him, smiling innocently until they were out of sight. When the duo turned the corner, he lost his facade and ran off, determined to get out of this madness as soon as possible. Servant my ass.


................


The demon scratched the back of his head as he looked at his companion, his eyes lost. "Do we have a plan?" He asked quietly, "Do we know what's waiting for us? Who the enemy is?"


As he asked this, goosebumps began appearing on the unscarred parts of his arms, and he frowned. Why was he feeling like they were walking straight into a trap?


@Metaphysics

"Archdemon, Graeme is taking them out one by one, Jun has my dagger, and Ellie and her sister are safe." Mazus showed the dot on his hand. "I vowed Ellie your safe return under any circumstances needed."


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[Elfia Nightwing]

Ellie sighed banging her head against the bar, when she was still a student and finishing up her studies, she had placed a bunch of magic books through out the cafe so she could study when she had time. " I can't beilive a bunch of werewolves used my first edition as a chew toy..." She muttered glaring at the slobber covered book. She was looking for more information about the Archdemons. Ellie knew she could probably ask Vinny but she didn't want to make him uncomfortable. " Uria, Archdemon of fire," she murmured looking at the slobber covered page. That atleast explained the lava maids. " oh, so Hamon and Uria are sisters....that explains why she wanted Spooks," Ellie said reading more about Uria, so far it looked like she was about as peaceful as Archdemons could be.


 
Ellie sighed pushing the book aside, she could feel a headache coming on. getting up she pulled out the teakettle turning on the electric stove, picking out chamomile tea. As she waited for the water to boil she sat on the bar staring at the ceiling. She looked the same but it felt like she had changed so much as if some one had replaced her with a newer, better Ellie. " I can't wait til this is all over..." she sighed hopping down as she heard the teakettle whistle putting the tea leaves in her favorite cup smiling as the familiar scent filled her nose.

 

[Cryobionic]

The small imp ran into the next room, his eyes searching frantically for a way out. This was impossible, he had been in at least five rooms already, and he didn't even know if he was on the right floor! Gritting his teeth, wincing when he felt his missing one crack a little, he rubbed at his eyes, frustrated. That fallen angel had popped them all the way to the other side of the house, he was sure of it. It was easy to put the blame on him, especially when he didn't really feel like confronting his own useless sense of direction. '


He didn't have any ordered objective now, and without being told where to go, and when to be there, he really was absolutely useless at finding things. Oliver began run in the opposite direction, beginning to feel little panicked. What if he never got out? What if Buckley and the others just left him there? Would he be forced to serve the other demons in the manor? Would he be roasted on a spit and eaten for lunch? He had heard rumors growing up that spiced Imp was a particular delicacy among the high ranking demons, and he really didn't want to face the reality of-


"Shit!"


The imp went flying forward when something caught his foot, taking a tumble mid air before landing up side down on the floor and sliding across the slippery surface, hitting the wall with a bang. Opening his eyes, the entire room spinning and up side down, Oliver flipped over right side up and looked around dazed, his panicked thoughts forgotten.


Blinking a few times to clear his head, his peripheral vision caught sight of something white, red and... groaning? The imp crawled over to the thing, hesitantly, in case it attacked, but soon found out that the cause of his tumble was... a boy. A boy who was lying on the floor, a pool of blood surrounding him, seeping into his white hair. Oliver's eyes widened dramaticly as he realized this was one of the people Mazus had showed him with his finger, and he felt his breath catch.


"H-hey, buddy!" He called, poking the boy a little, "Come on, man, open your eyes." When the boy didn't respond, the imp prodded him a little harder, starting to get scared. He had no idea what to do, or what this boy even was, and he had literally no experience with bleeding albinos at all! "Hey! Y-you're bleeding all over the carpeting! D-don't make me give you CPR, because I will and my breath smells like dog, so you better answer me, buddy!"


........................................................................................................


"You did?" Vincent asked surprised. The sentiment of what that meant made him feel all fuzzy and warm, and he grinned a little, before the reality of what that meant hit him like a sledgehammer. He tightened the grip on his bag, the rough material of the strap grinding against the palm of his hand before looking up at the fallen again. "You do realize what that means, don't you? That you blood vowed it?"


He sent him a concerned look, hoping he did.


Their footsteps echoed down the empty, grand corridor as they made their way towards their destination, making Vincent feel a little paranoid. He began looking around, as if expecting someone to jump out of the shadows, slicing their throats or something. It wasn't an invalid concern, but it did make him jumpy.


"Um, so what happened while Graeme and I took care of the hellehounds?"


@Metaphysics


@thistle

 

[Dnaleri017]

The small imp ran into the next room, his eyes searching frantically for a way out. This was impossible, he had been in at least five rooms already, and he didn't even know if he was on the right floor! Gritting his teeth, wincing when he felt his missing one crack a little, he rubbed at his eyes, frustrated. That fallen angel had popped them all the way to the other side of the house, he was sure of it. It was easy to put the blame on him, especially when he didn't really feel like confronting his own useless sense of direction. '
He didn't have any ordered objective now, and without being told where to go, and when to be there, he really was absolutely useless at finding things. Oliver began run in the opposite direction, beginning to feel little panicked. What if he never got out? What if Buckley and the others just left him there? Would he be forced to serve the other demons in the manor? Would he be roasted on a spit and eaten for lunch? He had heard rumors growing up that spiced Imp was a particular delicacy among the high ranking demons, and he really didn't want to face the reality of-


"Shit!"


The imp went flying forward when something caught his foot, taking a tumble mid air before landing up side down on the floor and sliding across the slippery surface, hitting the wall with a bang. Opening his eyes, the entire room spinning and up side down, Oliver flipped over right side up and looked around dazed, his panicked thoughts forgotten.


Blinking a few times to clear his head, his peripheral vision caught sight of something white, red and... groaning? The imp crawled over to the thing, hesitantly, in case it attacked, but soon found out that the cause of his tumble was... a boy. A boy who was lying on the floor, a pool of blood surrounding him, seeping into his white hair. Oliver's eyes widened dramaticly as he realized this was one of the people Mazus had showed him with his finger, and he felt his breath catch.


"H-hey, buddy!" He called, poking the boy a little, "Come on, man, open your eyes." When the boy didn't respond, the imp prodded him a little harder, starting to get scared. He had no idea what to do, or what this boy even was, and he had literally no experience with bleeding albinos at all! "Hey! Y-you're bleeding all over the carpeting! D-don't make me give you CPR, because I will and my breath smells like dog, so you better answer me, buddy!"


........................................................................................................


"You did?" Vincent asked surprised. The sentiment of what that meant made him feel all fuzzy and warm, and he grinned a little, before the reality of what that meant hit him like a sledgehammer. He tightened the grip on his bag, the rough material of the strap grinding against the palm of his hand before looking up at the fallen again. "You do realize what that means, don't you? That you blood vowed it?"


He sent him a concerned look, hoping he did.


Their footsteps echoed down the empty, grand corridor as they made their way towards their destination, making Vincent feel a little paranoid. He began looking around, as if expecting someone to jump out of the shadows, slicing their throats or something. It wasn't an invalid concern, but it did make him jumpy.


"Um, so what happened while Graeme and I took care of the hellehounds?"


@Metaphysics


@thistle

Mazus followed Vincent silently for a while "I would not have made the blood vow if I had believed I couldn't fulfill it." Mazus stopped "The end if these stairs is where everyone is at. Careful Vincent"


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[Elfia Nightwing]

Serathi sighed inside Vincent's head. After the fight that little blue haired witch put up she was in no condition to try and manipulate someone. " I can't


believe my only child is involved with that bitch Meredith's incarnate..And managed to get a fallen angel on his side," she growled to herself. And now she had to deal with those annoying sisters Uria and Hamon, by themselves they were like flies to her, together they were a little trickier. "It'll all be worth it though...when those disgusting maggot 'hunters' finish my new body," she told herself.


 
Ellie swiveled on her bar stool spinning around in circles. Stupid Mazus, she thought to herself sighing in boredom.

 

[Cryobionic]

As they neared the stairs, sounds of fighting could be heard clearly, echoing off the walls of the room, ringing in their ears. Vincent looked up at Mazus, shocked, before he reached into his bag and pulled out one of Seera's special steak knives. It was part of a set she had brought from home, and the blade was incredibly sharp. She would murder him for stealing it from the kitchen, but it couldn't be helped.


His eyes narrowed and connected with the fallen's, determined to face this new threat head on. "How do you want to do this, friend?"


@Dnaleri017

 

[thistle]

Beneath a waning consciousness that continued to make his vision fade in and out of darkness, Jun was vaguely aware of his foot being nudged. The effect was muted, as was the case when one was bleeding profusely on the floor, and the sense of his shoe moving, rather than actual feel, caused just enough disturbance to coax him from his latest blackout.


There was that, and the remarkably persistent finger jabbing away at his cheek like it was a piece of dough. Again the experience was numb, but the nerves on his face were more responsive than those in his legs. As Jun became more aware of his surroundings it smelled as if he were back at the cafe. But not in a location where he was surrounded by the bold, darkened notes of coffee ground, or the fragrant, sweet earthiness of midday tea.


There was no scent of moonshine, nor fresh strawberry shortcake – there wasn’t even the strange batch of pancakes he had once seen arrive from the kitchen, suspicious shapes poking through the batter and causing Jun to question some of the guest’s food choices. Though strange in all ways, even that smell hadn’t been terribly unpleasant.


Yet this was nothing that belonged inside the café, but outside the entrance doors where the dank, abandoned alleyway rested. Just as when he’d first stumbled into the space, Jun felt all the surrounding oxygen whither into a sour cloud. It was just as offensive as he remembered, if not worse - like the dank, cat piss covered garbage that was allowed to swell and swelter just before stepping inside the building, the scent was overpowering.


He coughed, more for the sake of clearing the air. It earned a fresh lance of pain but Jun thought it worth the sacrifice. Dully noting his arm had fallen through a small hole carved out by his blood, he finally worked on focusing his vision, forcing the grey shadows to stand still and reveal the face of a child staring straight at him.


His mouth was parted.


There was the culprit. Trying to stop his nose from scrunching - which wasn’t at all difficult given his weakened state of mind -Jun distracted himself with a feeble question posed toward the boy. “Wha…What are you?”


He meant to say ‘who’ but Jun didn’t attempt to withdraw the question or correct himself. There was something different about the child who possessed an array of features related to other creatures.


A set of horns, razor sharp teeth that were just a tad too close for comfort, were some of the few. Something wiggled into view and Jun assumed it to be a tail. For all he knew the child might have goat legs but he was unable to spot anything else, restricted by the youth’s face, which to his credit contained a look of concern.

 

[Elfia Nightwing]

( Ok sooo is Jun outside the cafe now?)

 

[Cryobionic]

[QUOTE="Elfia Nightwing]( Ok sooo is Jun outside the cafe now?)

[/QUOTE]
(No. Read it again. xD )

 

[Elfia Nightwing]

(Nvm~)

 

[Cryobionic]

"An Imp." Oliver deadpanned, straightening and getting out of the boy's face. The sense of relief that had flooded over him when the boy had opened his eyes, was easily diminished when the imp saw his pupils. Now, Oliver was the first to admit that he didn't know anything about anything when it came to overworld medical treatments, but even he knew that having the holes in ones eyes be that big, was never a good sign.


Shuffling around a bit, he decided to help in any way he could. That would be better than letting him bleed out and die, right? Oliver wasn't sure, but he figured that if he was to be stuck with Buckley and his gang for an unknown period of time, it wouldn't do to make them despise him because he let their friend die. So, with that in mind, and nothing was going to change his mind either, he wrapped his arms around the boys torso, ignoring the pained protests, and dragged him the best he could along the floor, finally managing to prop him upright against the wall.


"Okay... okay," He muttered under his breath, narrowing his eyes as he looked at him. He figured the boy was to far gone to know that he was just pretending to know anything about this kind of stuff, anyway, and besides, if it could reassure him somewhat, that was good. He hoped.


Oliver looked to the boys bloodied arm, the wound clearly visible through his shirt. It was a large wound, and the Imp felt a drop of sweat run down his forehead as he looked at it. Now, he needed to inform the patient about this, and he would have to be sensitive and gentle while describing it, else the boy might freak out.


"Your arm is messed up, dude."


Okay, that probably didn't help much. Biting the inside of his cheek, Oliver thought about what to do. If he didn't stop the bleeding, the boy would most likely not make it, but he didn't have anything to stop the bleeding with. The imp looked around the room, trying to spot something, anything that he might use. He didn't even notice that his shirt, stained with the boys blood, had started disintegrating


@thistle .

 

[thistle]

Lifted not so tenderly from his reclined position to be lugged along the floor with the same lack of mercy, Jun's vision swam in unsteady waves as he felt his back hit a wall before being arranged and prodded some more till he was sitting roughly upright.


Whether the child held ill intent for him or not, there was little he could do now. And though technique was almost nonexistent - the child, now deep in thought, nearly tripping over him once more - he moved with vigor, as if driven by a purpose privy to his own mind. Suspicions cast aside, it seemed as if he were acting out of good intention.


Just then the slight reflection of metal caught Jun's attention, caused by the imp's stumble, and Jun spotted the weapon he had tucked into his boot earlier.


Ringed by dead cultists that were surrounded in cloth, the shade managed an idea and motioned weakly with his free hand. "Take their robes," he said haltingly, then motioned toward his arm, "they can be used...be used for a wrap." For a moment his vision disappeared completely and Jun lost all feeling in his body as he slumped unceremoniously. When he came back to he was almost looking up at the ceiling. "You can use the knife if need be."


From where he was, Jun gathered what strength he could and allowed it to wonder of everyone else and their happenings. Alexander should be somewhere near, Vincent and Graeme were outside, Ellie was there too, and Akira...


Jun stopped before he could black out once more, waiting patiently for the imp, breath wheezing.

 

[Cryobionic]

"Oh, yeah. Of course. I totally knew that." The imp replied sheepishly, catching the boys head as it suddenly tilted forward. Frowning he snapped his fingers in front of his face, "Hey! You need to stay awake! I can't make sure you're not dead if you don't."


With that, he crawled over to the nearest body, duly noting that the mans face was almost entirely singed off, before stripping him and tearing up his cloak with his claws. The ripping sound of the fabric was somehow comforting, reminding the imp of a prank he once pulled, calming him somewhat.


Oliver ripped apart two large pieces of cloth, before hurrying over to the boy, who looked even worse now. Placing two fingers under the boys chin, he lifted his head up so that he could look at his eyes, a little more forcibly than he intended maybe, as his head banged against the wall behind him, but the result stayed the same.


"Um, sorry... this is probably going to hurt. A lot." Oliver figured it would be better to just be honest with him, though it wasn't as if he was awake enough to care anyway. So, without further ado, the imp ripped off the boys shirt arm, balled it up and stuffed the bloody thing into his mouth without saying a word and quickly began wrapping the pieces of robe around his arm tightly. His brow was furrowed in concentration as he worked, his forked tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth while he tried to ignore the grunts of pain from the boy himself.


Then, finally tying the fabric in one last knot, he moved away with a sigh, letting himself fall backwards and land on his tail. That hadn't been fun at all.

 

[thistle]

Whatever bit of numbness Jun had been falling into earlier was suddenly wiped away in an instant.


It felt as if Jun had bared his arm completely to the fires of hell as the imp worked determinedly on the makeshift bandage. Soot and flecks of wood stood out in the cloth, to which Jun turned frightful eyes, but it was far too late to tell the imp to stop - not when he'd been the one to suggest the idea, not when the fabric was already wound thrice around his arm.


More than once he felt the fabric shoved a little too deep, burying in numerous parts of the filleted flesh, the stray lines of yarn catching in the wound and sending his nerves ringing with pinpoint clarity. Like an insistent hand that continued to pluck away at a string, pain rose in waves, singing all throughout his arm in a torturous harmony. Time seemed to last for an eternity as the shade screamed and kicked, kicked and screamed into the cloth, tears pinching from his eyes.


By the time the imp finished Jun had nearly bitten through the cloth, the collar of his shirt worked through with a fresh layer of sweat. There would be some time before the blood ate through the material. With effort Jun craned his head to the side to observe the imp's work, seeing how the small hands had managed to weave the cloth from the shoulder and past his elbow effectively. Combined with the fact that he could hardly move the arm on his own and the fresh patch work job, Jun was reduced to being a one armed shade.


With that free arm he lifted it weakly, meaning to grasp the imp's hand and give it a good shake, but he only had enough strength to hold the tips of his fingers. He spat out the cloth, jaw aching, glad to be rid of it. The breath came quick and short from his lungs, recovering from the exertion. "I can't thank you enough," he panted, and gave the slightest of squeezes to the small hand as he spoke. "Where did you come from?" Out of naive habit he added, "Did you need help getting out at all?"

 

[Cryobionic]

Oliver scratched the back of his head, looking away sheepishly, not at all used to being thanked. "Yes, well... don't go all mushy on me, I just covered your arm in dirty fabric."


Truth be told, he was drained. He had never thought that wrapping another persons arm in a makeshift bandage would take so much of him, but after seeing the boy thrash and scream in pain on the floor, and being unable to really do anything about it, had really made him quite frightened. True, he was used to seeing the lost souls of hell screaming in unending agony, but it was pretty different when you were the one who caused the pain. Oliver felt a little sick.


"I just came here to deliver a message to another demon, really," He informed the white haired boy, still not looking at him, "But then, I kind of got lost." He added lamely, biting his lip. He didn't really feel the need to inform him of the other events that had transpired, and especially not about the fact that he was now bound to the group. That was a fact he didn't want to voice. Ever.


Looking around the room to avoid making eye contact with the boy, he noticed the hole in the floor where he had been laying when the imp had tumbled over him to begin with. The blood around the hole was emitting smoke, and out of curiosity he looked down at himself. Sure enough, there was a large, burned up hole in the front of his hoodie, exposing his stomach, and he was surprised to find that even the zipper had melted away.


"Aw, geez..." He muttered, running a finger over the ruined metal coating his skin, "What's your blood made out of, anyway, acid?" He joked, finally looking at him.

 

[Happy Red Mage]

Spooks wandered around the hallways of the higher part of the manor. She then stopped in front of a large painting of what seemed to be a younger her and Uria along with others. She turned away from it and continued her way. "Where is that exit?"

 

[thistle]

It was the shade's turn to look chagrined, whatever blood remaining rising upward to fill his cheeks in appropriate embarrassment. "I have no idea," he replied honestly as he tried to hide his arm before wincing sharply, "it just..." He waved a helpless hand in the air, vaguely in the direction of the newly formed gap, "does that."


Now that his arm had been securely wrapped, Jun felt some of his strength return, at least mentally, and he sat up straighter, pointing at the dead cultist who was still fully clothed. "They might be a bit large," he offered, eyes shifting from body and the imp's clothing specifically with an inquiring look, "but maybe you could wear...?"


Jun sized up the imp with a thoughtful expression, a spark of his old self returning, before glancing at the corpse. Forming a mental image of both their heights and comparing the measurements, Jun concluded the child would practically drown in the over sized robes, no more than third of it resting on his shoulders while the rest dragged uselessly behind him.


Ducking his head to hide the momentary smile, he recovered and turned to the boy, though apparent mirth was still in his eyes. "A message from whom? What demon?" he asked gently, recalling his words.


Possibly a rising lord from whatever brimstone and fire the imp came from, Jun assumed, or maybe a mistress whose hair was completely wreathed in snakes.

 

[Dnaleri017]

(Sorry I haven't replied) Mazus stopped abruptly sensing Jun's weak soul and looked in his direction. "Excuse me Vincent, I believe I found Jun." With that he disappeared from Vincent's presence and appeared behind the imp. "Hello again Oliver, I suspect this was your work?" Pointing to the bandages Mazus kneeled beside Jun "Jun if you will allow me I can heal you. Though considering your wounds you won't be active for several minutes." Mazus didn't smile or frown once. He had no time to pretend he understood emotions or facial expressions.


Graeme dashed up the stairs and tripped in front of Vincent. "Hey Vince... Damn I'm glad to see you again. I sabotaged the stairs so we can get somewhere else. Those cultists have demons with them and this blade isn't enough" He held up the demon slaying blade in front of him despite Vincent's obvious disgust of it. "Of course I don't dare lose it in case they try to use it on you." Panting he stood up. So who else is still around? You know before the barrier closed us in..."


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[Cryobionic]

"Nah, it's okay. It's not like I don't have other hoodies." Oliver lied through his teeth, shrugging with a small grin. Truth be told, now that he couldn't go home anymore, he didn't really have anything. He could just picture his colleagues laughing their asses off as they spoke.


Tilting his head slightly at the boys next questions, he considered what to tell him. The white haired young man obviously knew Buckley, at least to some degree, and that would mean that the Order had bound him to this guy too. It was a stupid situation to be in altogether.


"Well, I came here with a message for Vincent Buckley," He offered hesitantly, not really sure how much information he should give away, "From the Brimstone Order. They're a pretty big deal where I come from."


Oliver pulled his feet up under him, crossing them while unintentionally making his shoes light up, their lights reflecting off his face as he stared at them. That lifted his spirits considerably, especially when he noticed that they were still completely unharmed and looked just as cool as they had done when he had first gotten them earlier today, and just as if someone had flipped a switch inside of his head, his whole demeanor changed. Looking up at the boy with an unnaturally large grin plastered on his face, he let out a small giggle, banging his foot against the floor making his shoes light up again, properly managing to distract him.


"Now, is that cool or what? I don't know why they only sell these to children, the lady at the store wasn't exactly willing to share any information after I nicked them from her, but they really should think of expanding their market to bigger footed people. They would make a fortune!"


Then, grabbing the boys good hand he squeezed it lightly, his eyes shining with sudden and unexpected amusement. "I'm Oliver, by the way! Nice to meet you." He giggled, his eye twitching slightly.


 
Blinking, Vincent looked at the spot Mazus had just been in, before looking up at the approaching Graeme, his eyes wide. "What do you mean they have demons with them?" He asked, looking over the shapeshifters shoulder, taking notice of the smoke rising from the staircase being him with a small, strained halfsmile.


He was sick of this entire ordeal, and he wanted to go home. His arms were burning, and he was desperately craving something to eat.


Shaking his head, he chased those thoughts away, trying to keep his focus on their current objective. To find Spooks, and bring her back. Find Spooks, and bring her back.


"I... There's the prince, who I know is in here, I saw him briefly, and Jun who I honestly have no idea where is, but Mazus seemed pretty convinced about it before he disappeared, and some Imp who suddenly showed up in here at the same time Mazus did. I don't know who he is."


@Dnaleri017

 

[thistle]

The instantaneous change of Oliver's demeanor was so sudden that it caught Jun off guard, nearly erasing the most significant portion of the boy's reply as the imp introduced himself with unsuppressed excitement.


"Oliver," he managed to repeat shakily, obviously still bewildered. Trying to remember the information, Jun tried to go in an appropriate order of responses, mindful of what the boy had done for him. Seeing how much he truly admired the pair of light up sneakers the shade decided to address those first. "Oliver, my name is Jun, and yes, I'm sure whoever created those shoes would definitely make some good profit. They look terribly comfortable, and I'm sure they catch the eye of some ladies along the way." Jun wasn't entirely awful with youths, but his choice in words could be a tad strained, but he spoke sincerely, hoping the imp would be convinced. "I might buy a pair once we can find our friends and escape this place."


Taking a deep breath then and eyeing Oliver with a solemn expression, Jun resumed, this time more slowly. "You mentioned a Vincent Buckley. Could you take me to him?" Unconsciously, his hand tightened ever so slightly on Oliver, unable to completely hide his anxiousness.


Before the imp had a chance to answer, footsteps sounded on the panels, and stepping around the bend appeared Mazus. As the fallen paused long enough to exchange a word with Oliver, who merely angled his head once more and remained quiet as if trying to remember the face, Mazus then stooped beside Jun, the shade attempting to scoot over automatically to make room.


At Mazus' offer, Jun glanced at Oliver and then at the bandage work he had done, the look in his eyes going soft with fondness. "I'll take you up on that offer," he conceded finally, shifting his arm into view of the fallen, "but if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to keep the bandage on, just in case of any extra bleeding."

 

[Dnaleri017]

The instantaneous change of Oliver's demeanor was so sudden that it caught Jun off guard, nearly erasing the most significant portion of the boy's reply as the imp introduced himself with unsuppressed excitement.
"Oliver," he managed to repeat shakily, obviously still bewildered. Trying to remember the information, Jun tried to go in an appropriate order of responses, mindful of what the boy had done for him. Seeing how much he truly admired the pair of light up sneakers the shade decided to address those first. "Oliver, my name is Jun, and yes, I'm sure whoever created those shoes would definitely make some good profit. They look terribly comfortable, and I'm sure they catch the eye of some ladies along the way." Jun wasn't entirely awful with youths, but his choice in words could be a tad strained, but he spoke sincerely, hoping the imp would be convinced. "I might buy a pair once we can find our friends and escape this place."


Taking a deep breath then and eyeing Oliver with a solemn expression, Jun resumed, this time more slowly. "You mentioned a Vincent Buckley. Could you take me to him?" Unconsciously, his hand tightened ever so slightly on Oliver, unable to completely hide his anxiousness.


Before the imp had a chance to answer, footsteps sounded on the panels, and stepping around the bend appeared Mazus. As the fallen paused long enough to exchange a word with Oliver, who merely angled his head once more and remained quiet as if trying to remember the face, Mazus then stooped beside Jun, the shade attempting to scoot over automatically to make room.


At Mazus' offer, Jun glanced at Oliver and then at the bandage work he had done, the look in his eyes going soft with fondness. "I'll take you up on that offer," he conceded finally, shifting his arm into view of the fallen, "but if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to keep the bandage on, just in case of any extra bleeding."

"No need to worry about it, you forget I'm still an angel." Mazus placed two fingers on his forehead and the injuries began to heal slowly. Over time Jun would begin to feel better and once Mazus would get the chance to finish Jun would be back to his old self.


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