Soul's Choice (started)

For longer, much longer, than any mortal could remember, the Town has been a place where the demons lived. Their safe haven and their sanctuary, the place where they could be themselves and keep the souls they collected safe. Contract after contract, they grew stronger, raising new generations, accepting and offering new deals, keeping as away as possible from the human world.
Yet now, everything is changing. The souls are being taken, one by one, weakening the demons and threatening their lives, and no one can tell what exactly is happening. The only ones safe from it, so it seems, are the ones bound by contracts.
For the first time ever, to save their kind, they have decided; the Town is opening its doors to humans, letting potential contractors in...

~Demons

Spoiler

Whether old or young, you know of the way your kind lives - collecting the souls, sealing the deals. You have your abilities and something that deffers you from other demons. Some of you are genderless, some seem very close to humans, some know nothing of the human world and customs, some have traveled through it and are interested in knowing everything. Some appear in humanoid shapes, some as nothing but a shadow or even an object. Some of you have been humans before - some have been something else, and some are born this way. Perhaps you agree that the idea of bringing humans is good. Perhaps you believe you should rather focus on finding out what really happened to the souls, before it gets too late. Perhaps you believe in something completely else..
The demons will take more or less human forms, and should be trying to get the humans to sign their contracts - by which means, it's completely up to you~

~Humans

Spoiler

For this or that reason, whatever it was you were doing before, you ended up in the Town. The WWII is over, these are the 50's, and you're probably in search of a better life..
Except in a few rare cases, humans are unaware of the demons' existence - the exceptions are the ones who've already encountered a demon before and/or made a contract with one. The humans who are currently contractors have certain amount of power over the demons they're bound to - that depends on the type of the deal and the kind and strength of the demon. Humans are different - some would accept the deals offered, because they crave to see their wishes fullfilled. Some will despise the very idea of giving their souls to anyone. They should eventually become aware of the demons being demons. And once they enter the Town, for one or another reason they will find themselves unable to leave..~

~Souls & Contracts

Spoiler

Demons don't eat souls, or at least not in a way humans eat food, but they do make them stronger. The more souls a demon has "in store", the stronger s/he generally is. The way of storing souls, as well as details regarding the contracts, vary from demon to demon. What's the same for all of them, is that they include two parties, the demon gets the soul of the human and the human gets his/her wish(es) fullfilled. How exactly, in what way, for how long the contract lasts and just how much one can/must do for/to the other, depends on the kind of the demon.
Very powerful demons could make more than one contract, but as they make antoher one, the number of the souls they've saved cuts in half, hence weakening them - so they don't do it.
Not all the souls are equally valuable - the ones whose humans enter the contract with a burning desire which practically takes over their entire being, those souls shine the brightest. As for how the demons see the souls, that as well depends on the demon's kind.
When a human loses his/her soul, they lose inspiration to do whatever it was that made them happy in the past, become unable to enjoy anything, unable to love, to feel, to anything, become nothing but empty shells. Eventually they all kill themselves or find a way to get killed/die, hence the humans believe that losing the soul means death.

~Character Slots:

Demons~

~ 7 weakened ones (aren't bound to anyone, are slowly losing the souls they've collected)

Spoiler

~ ScarlettFire
~ ScarlettFire
~ AriaAdams
~ darklady
~ Dante
~ maleficent
~ kayfortnight
~ StellaThomas
~ Imaginator17

~ 3 strong(er) ones (bound to their contractors)

Spoiler

~ AriaAdams
~ Alvarin
~ LouisCypher

Humans~

Spoiler

~ AriaAdams (contractor)
~ Auxiira
~ Alvarin
~ ShadowVyper (contractor)
~ carbonCore (contractor)
~ CowLogic
~ Niebla
~ Aquestioning
~ jon7670
~ ANADIR
~ darklady

~Character templates

~Humans:

CodeSelect all

[b]Name:[/b]
[b]Gender:[/b]
[b]Age:[/b]
[b]Appearance:[/b] (written required, picture optional)
[b]Personality:[/b]
[b]History:[/b] (if s/he is bound to someone, include how that happened)
[b]Connection to other characters:[/b]
[b]Other:[/b]

~Demons:

CodeSelect all

[b]Name:[/b]
[b]Gender:[/b] (the way they appear to be, that is)
[b]Age:[/b] (real age and physical age)
[b]Role in the Town:[/b]
[b]Appearance:[/b] (written description + picture optionally)
[b]Personality:[/b]
[b]History:[/b] (if s/he was a human before and is a demon for a very long time, keep that part of history brief enough)
[b]Abilities:[/b] (the way their demonosity works, where do they store souls, how do they make contracts, etc etc)
[b]Weakness(es)[/b] (include how they can be killed)
[b]Connection to other characters:[/b]
[b]Other:[/b]

Slots shall be added/removed, keeping the demon/human ratio even(ish). Check the rules, reserve slots in the DT and take all discussion there. I shall be adding info to this post, so keep an eye on it.

i was just scrolling through storybooks, when i saw this book! It looks really cool... o.o

AriaAdams wrote:Check the rules, reserve slots in the DT and take all discussion there.

Thank you, you're welcome to join if you wish - through the DT
(also this is the placeholder for my first post)


Martin Reid | His/Masque's place above the shop | Day One, evening
*

I sat at the edge of the bed, my legs crossed, absentmindedly playing with the rings around my neck. I remembered buying them, engraving our names and the date.. Date she died. She died, and you sold your soul. I let the rings fall back to my chest, slightly swinging on their string.

As I got up, I approached the window, glancing out. Small groups of people were heading to the town's centre, where the fair was to be held. I've seen the preparations, and even now I could hear the song through the voices in the streets. Town was far from big, yet seen like that, as they all headed to the same direction, wearing their masks and costumes, it seemed to have far more citizens than one would think it has.

"Will we go?"

I turned to the bed as Rose spoke. She was sitting in the middle of it, still halfly covered with the sheet, smiling a bit. It was almost painful to look at her there - wrong on so many levels, yet I couldn't imagine being without her. Could you ever? I shoved the memories away, smiling back at her as I approached the bed, sitting down again.

"Do you want to?" I asked, and she moved, sitting next to me and leaning her head on my shoulder. Turning my head to her, I inhaled a deep breath, closing my eyes, letting my memories wander back to when were still both ourselves. Even to me, it was impossible to tell the difference. Everything was there, she even smelled the same way. The way her hair looked, the way her skin felt against mine.. Then why are you so unhappy? I opened my eyes, finding her observing me with a somewhat concerned face. Her eyes were different. Or were they? I couldn't quite tell. Perhaps you're not unhappy.

"Marty, what is it?" She raised an eyebrow, and I just shook my head. "Are you alright?"

"Of course," I said, giving her a quick smile before leaning to kiss her. I closed my eyes again, knowing she did as well. Even the kisses felt the same - the way they should, and I knew I would never regret making the deal I made. She was the only thing I ever wanted, and I loved her regardless of what she now was. Perhaps you just din't understand what happiness is.

I didn't really want to go to the festival. It sounded promising, and I did help with preparations, yet the idea of moving around through the crowd, with my face modelled into a grin didn't sound attractive at all. I knew well enough there would be demons there, and I was fairly sure some of them might be showing their true forms. I wasn't quite sure I was ready to see that. You of all people should be used to it by now..

"I'll stay at home," I said. "Making sure nothing happens to the shop."

She frowned slightly, running her finger over my lips. "I could stay with you here."

I caught her hand as it moved down my neck, still with a little smile, and slid from the bed again.

"No," I said, trying to keep my voice soft though I was fairly sure I sounded colder than I intended to. "We both know you want to go. I'll be waiting here, as I always do." There is nothing else I could do, or anything I would ever take over seeing you returning after those waits.

I glanced through the window again, furrowing my brow at a man in a military uniform parading with his group of masked friends. The war is barely over. There was nothing funny about it. With thoughts running to my family, I felt my hands curling into fists. Everyone in this town wore some kind of mask every day - I saw no point in organizing an event one could celebrate it on.

You're living in a dream. No one knows who you are, no one ever will, and you have everything you ever wanted. So why are you unhappy? I sighed. You can't tell what being happy is like. And no one ever said it was going to be simple - no one even ever said you would be happy.

"You could as well go without a mask for once," I said silently.

"It's a carnival," Rose laughed, and I turned back to her. Her smile faded slowly as I frowned again.

"You could go as your.." I waved my hand aimlessly, "..true self. No? No one could tell, except for those who know anyway."

I kept my eyes on her as she changed, in that way I've seen them cahnging before. There was something fascinating about it, in the way how easy it was for my demon to just switch between appearances. I was silent for a few long moments, trying to silence my inner voice. She wasn't Rose - but she also was. I should've hated her for what she did to Rose - and yet I couldn't. So do you love them, then? I looked away. It was far enough from truth to make me wish I could punch my own mind. No, it was neither of those - and I doubted it would ever be, even though I had more than once desired for this Rose to care about me the way my Rose used to.

I forced myself to focus on the present again, finding her sitting on the bed in the exact same position, glaring slightly at me but other than that resembling a statue more than a person. My eyes flickered down, to the mask she held. It even reminded me of Rose - I couldn't quite tell if I could've imagined her wearing it, or if I could rather imagine her making it if she'd by some coincidence be asked to create a mask. I wasn't a demon, yet I could almost feel her presence as I stared at it, wondering at the same time what would mine look like. You will know soon enough. I hoped she'd keep our two souls next to each other. If I asked her to kill me after she takes it, would she do it?

"I am going to use my other true form tonight," she said, and my eyes snapped up again. She showed no sign of noticing what just went through my head - yet I was fairly sure she knew quite a bit about it. "One you haven't seen."

"Will I know it's you?" It slipped my tongue before I thought about it. You said you weren't interested in going. "If I would go, that is, would I know?" For some reason, idea of being in a crowd of people and not really knowing whom I'm talking to, seemed terrifying. Especially if I knew some of them weren't even people.

"Probably," she replied "I'll always be wearing this."

She pointed at the cat mask covering most of her face, and I nodded, then closing my fingers around the two rings again. The last time I was on an event like that, Rose and I were both children. If I knew it would've been our last time, I would've bothered to remember every detail of it.

"It would've been our anniversary today," I muttered. We should've been married - we could've had kids by now. I never before really thought about it. Stop it. Why the hell are you doing that to yourself today? I looked back to her. It was our anniversary as well, in a way. The same day I'd promised my soul to her, couple of years ago. For a second I wondered if she remembered all of her contractors. If every mask in the shop guarded a soul, I judged it next to impossible. I let the rings fall under my shirt this time, turning to look through the window again, expecting some kind of remark.

"I know.." she said instead. "My condolences. I know loss as well." Something flashed in her eyes - it was the first time I'd seen any emotion there, and the next moment she was as calm as a statue again. "If it gives you any consolation, I will not ever separate you after your death."

I narrowed my eyes on her. She sounded almost - almost - understanding. Which was the closest to proper feelings I've gotten from her true form in a long time. For a moment, I wondered if she could read my thoughts after all - then I recalled what got me thinking about our souls ending up next to each other, and I looked away again.

"So, he..or she.." I hesitated. "Were they a human?"

She was silent for a moment, and I almost took back the question. "Yes."

I glanced at Rose's mask again. Soon enough. If I was to live an eternity longer, I would lose my mind. I sighed silently.
"Will you tell me what happened?"

"I was a mask," she said, "she turned me into a person. She was a person, I turned her into a mask."

And if you could choose, would you rather have her become a person again, or you turn into a mask to be kept by her side and away from all this? I stopped myself from saying that. I wouldn't be telling my own story to anyone - it didn't really feel right to be asking questions. On the other hand.. I wondered if she still had it. If I was in her place, adn Rose was turned into a mask, I would keep her protected and safe, away from anything that might as much as touch her. I felt my lips curling into a somewhat sad smile.

"The most beautiful mask in the store," I quoted. "It's her, isn't it?"

"It's late. I should already be at the fair." She got up. I will take it as a yes. "Are you sure you do not want to come? It's not healthy for humans to stay inside for too long."

She was still equally calm, equally serious, as if we had spoken about any moderately interesting subject. I smiled a bit.
"Very well then," I more acted annoyed than I really was. It was the most depressing way possible to cheer me up. "I'm coming..but don't expect me to stay for very long." I bit my lip. "Besides, I don't have a costume..is there a mask I could borrow which wouldn't.." Wouldn't what? I had no idea how putting one on might effect me or, for that matter, anyone but her. "..which would be suitable?"

"You can borrow one from the walls," she said, and I nodded again, following her out of the room.On my way down the stairs, I wondered of the difference between the masks, andif I - or any mortal - would ever be able to sense anything. I kept my eyes on Rose's mask, still in her hand, and couldn't help but wonder if I could ever feel anything if I'd touch it.

I almost walked into Masque as she stopped, and I glanced over her shoulder, letting my gaze slide over the person waiting in the store.
***

Jellitha : The Sea : Day One, Evening

The snake darted through the waves, light glancing off her sides as she hurried towards her destination. Jellitha didn't know why she still came here. She had no souls left and no contractor, yet still she came to the hidden cavern beneath the sea. It was almost as if she had to see for herself that it was still there; that she still had the ability to contract human souls.

Things had become... difficult... in the Town. The decision (one which Jellitha detested, despite realising its necessity), had been made to open the Town to humans. This made the demon's life more difficult than it already had been, but at the same time giving her more chance of forging a much needed contract. Now, she had to disguise her demon form, which was becoming rapidly more exhausting by the day.

As she swam around the empty cavern, Jellitha mused on her existence as a demon. She'd been seventeen, as a human, when the crocodile attacked her. She soon came to learn that not all things were what they seemed. That Nile croc had turned out to be the Egyptian demon Rameses-Ramet - one of the strongest in his day. He merely took the form of a reptile at such times as he desired. Jellitha had refused him when he offered to remove her outer, human part and unleash the demon core she hadn't known she possessed. The blonde had avoided the river for weeks, and when she finally returned to it, she felt sure the strange figure would have moved on and forgotten about her. It was not to be so. He had savaged her with crocodile teeth and torn her human shell right off her. All she had left was demonhood.

Hating Rameses-Ramet since the day she was "born", Jellitha vowed to destroy him, much like he had destroyed her. But first she needed a human. We are demons, and yet we need humans to survive. What kind of demon is that? She thought, bitterly, as she made her way out of the cavern and back to the surface. Shifting back to her true form, Jellitha wove the human disguise over herself in disgust. She hated humans, hated pretending to be one, hated that she once was one... But to survive, she had to be human when she broke the surface of the waves, or certain death would follow.

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

Ruthie: En Route to the Carnival : Day One, Evening

The heavily made-up brunette closed her new front door behind her, a look of smug satisfaction on her face. She had finally escaped her marriage-happy mother. Ruthie wasn't about to marry anyone, particularly not anyone her mother recommended. If she's so keen on marriage, why doesn't she get married herself? Papa's been gone long enough now. Ruthie thought, spitefully. In truth, she had been very fond of her father and she'd always disliked the way her mother trod all over him at every available opportunity. Papa would never force marriage on me, Ruthie told herself, and not only because his own married spouse is completely insufferable.

As she made her way down the path and through the gate, Ruthie began to wonder what the Town was really like. She hadn't seen much of it and at the time she hadn't cared. Ruthie just wanted a place to live that was sufficiently far away from her mother to allow her to live her own life, devoid of any maternal influence.

Ruthie took one last happy glance at her new house and headed off for the carnival, mask in hand.

Zatanna/The Library/Day one, Evening

I wandered through the back of the library, my mind on my weakening self. I have always looked middle-aged, but now I am getting physically older with the loss of my souls. Not that most would or even could notice, but when you have been one age for two thousand years, you notice it changing. That is not why I am worried.

I am starting to forget information. Some of it is trivial and others would fetch a hefty sum with kings, but it is all precious. I wonder, if I lose enough souls, might I even forget my own name?

No. I am Zatanna. I will not let any more knowledge escape. I stop walking. I am in the section of my library where I keep my soul-books. It was always sparsely populated; my honor, unusual for a demon, ensured of that. I took a random book from the shelf and let it fall open in my hand. The pages were blank, instead of the brown scrawl I was used to. "Not you, too, Cleopatra?" I sigh and move the book to the shelf opposite this one, which is distressingly full. Another lost soul.

I must prepare for the festival tonight. Normally, it is just a place to gather information for me; however, with my new forgetfulness, I also need to snare a soul or two; before it's too late.

I let my hair out of it's bun and comb it over my shoulders. A touch of makeup in the right spots and I look several years younger. Maybe my age looks fine in the library, but during a festival, secrets are more likely to be told to the young and beautiful. Finally I slip on a golden gown.

A whispered question echoes through my mind. How can I win the election? He's so much more popular... Smirking, I respond, "What would you give to know?" The mind recedes abruptly, probably startled at the response. Too many people do not want answer to their questions, I muse as I leave the library after slipping on a golden mask Masque gave me after he asked a particularly obscure question.

Silver | The cemetery & other places | Day One
*

I stepped out of the shadows, feeling that cold, tingling sensation which always followed the changing of my appearance, and glanced down at my hands. Under the dim light of early dawn, they seemed almost white. Human form. I narrowed my eyes at it, and a thin purple glove appeared over it. It was ridiculous, posing as a mortal like that, playing a dressup to lure the prey closer. If there was no need for me to take part in the whole performance, I would've kept to my shadows and my music, and leave them to handle their problems themselves. But the town needed a person to present it, and luring the mortals here was easier than trying to get them in the world which belonged to them.
This is where we are. Fallen to hiding, almost in an exile, from those who fear us because we all know they're weaker than us.

I stopped before a crypt at the edge of the woods, where the grass and the trees were still in the dark, still untouched by the morning sun. No one was buried there - I knew that, and so did my daughter, and yet I found her, as I knew I would, clutching to the bars on the door and glaring at the altar of stone inside. She couldn't pass through - no one could, unless they were able to turn themselves into something either thin or intangible enough - but there was nothing she would see inside which she couldn't see this way.
She wore that expression again, strange and distant and more serious than she ever appeared in front of people. I knew better than to lie to myself that she isn't worried. You should've taken her and left this place. I approached and stood next to her, keeping my eyes on the altar I saw through the bars.

She glanced at me. "You found me."

I always do. I could tell where she was, just as I could tell where my Contractor was, that mortal girl who didn't even know what she was doing as she handed her soul to me. I let my mind wander, to that poem she wrote for me. I knew it by heart, though I only needed to read it once.

"I'm scared," Cleo muttered, and I turned to her, as her eyes flickered across my face. She liked me being in this form, I knew that, she liked being able to properly see me and touch me and really be sure I was standing right next to her. Out of all forms. I could've turned into a wolf and followed you around. A dragon, if you wished. But no, now I am impersonating a member of the kind that did so much wrong..

"...Dad?"

I snapped out of thoughts, finding the altar cracked in the middle. I sighed as I glanced at my hand again, almost disappearing in the deep shadows the crypt casted over us. Moving my fingers again, I once more returned to the form she so wanted me to use.

"You don't need to be afraid," I said, locking my eyes on hers again. They were the same colour as mine - surprisingly enough, that was something that never changed - yet still I could see something of her mother in them. I will kill them one by one, the mortals who dared to do that to our lives, and then the world will be all yours. "The whole town will gather at the festival tonight. When there's happiness, there's also desire and despair - someone will call for help, and we will be listening."

"But what if it doesn't happen?" She hugged herself. "What if I don't get them to sign in time?"

Then I will find a way to take souls from someone else and give them to you. "You will," I said instead. "Come now, we should get home before everyone creeps out to greet the sun."

She wrapped both her arms around mine, clinging as I took a step away from the crypt.
"You know, I don't think they still get out in the morning to perform sun-greeting rituals."

I smirked. They change faster than seasons. And die before they even have time to properly live. No wonder there's so many desperate souls out there.
*

The town was silent at that hour of the day, most of the mortals still asleep and most of us with better things to do than wander through the streets. Cleo let go of my arm, and instead took my hand, staring at the floor as we walked. She liked doing that, acting like a mortal girl even when we were alone, using the moments I was forced to take this form to act as she saw human girls acting around their parents.

I pulled my hand out from her grip, placing it on her back. I knew she was hiding the wings now - but I also knew they were there. She looked up at me, a somewhat worried expression on her face.

"Will you leave them visible tonight?" I asked, and she bit her lip.

"I thought of it," she admitted. Using her powers to keep them hidden all the time was tiring, I knew it even though she never showed it - and I couldn't let her use up any more strength than necessary. "Would it be safe?"

I nodded. "I think it would," I said. "I will be there, we all will be there.. and they will believe it's nothing but a costume."

She silently nodded, stopping as we reached Masque's store. I bit back a sigh. Her love for those masks - for any kinds of masks - was much like her mother's. I remembered when we encountered Masque, and how she admired them, and Cleo was exactly the same. She's a lot like her mother in many ways.. I couldn't quite say I approved of her love for Masque. They were one of the strongest demons I knew, and we shared a long past - but I didn't like Cleo getting too close to anyone, especially if they acted as friendly as Masque did. Almost motherly - almost being everything I could only tell her about.

I opened my mouth to tell her she should leave the shop and its owner alone for once, as I felt the familiar call echoing through my mind. My contractor needed me - and she needed me now.
I gave Cleo a quick hug, kissing her hair before I left. I would've done everything for her - I hoped she was aware of that.
*


A bar fight. She called me in because she got in a bar fight.I could practically feel my eyes turning redder - they tended to do that whenever I'd get angry enough - and for a moment I considered leaving. If my contract hadn't been bounding me to come as I'm summoned and do as she asked, I would've left her to her fate. She was old enough, even though she was a baby compared to myself, to be able to tell which fights were worth fighting. Wasn't she?

I entered the tavern, finding her surrounded by a group of men, her back touching the wall. She obviously isn't. I wondered what she expected me to do. Getting rid of that human body I was stucked into would've been refreshing, and clearing this town of the mortals who don't belong in it would surely lift my spirit - but others needed them, even if I didn't. Cleo needed them, and I knew not even the contracts of the few of us will last forever.

"Really now." I spoke in a loud enough voice for all of them to hear. "In the era you like to call modern, is this how people act?" I walked between them, as they separated to let me through, and glanced at my contractor as I approached her. Really now.. "Besides, if it takes eight of you to win against a young girl, that says more about you than her."

Seven of them moved, some muttering in low voice. One stayed.

"Sir, she--" I locked my eyes on his. Cleo only needs one to make a contract with.. "...I have better things to do than this," he finished, turned and almost ran, getting out of my sight in seconds. For a moment, I considered going after them and getting rid of them anyway - but I didn't need to do that. And it might need to risk revealing the true nature of this town to everyone.. I shook my head, turning to her.
Her hand was bleeding - I didn't even care what she did with it - but apart from that, some small bruises on her arms and a cut on her lip, she wasn't really hurt. She seemed to have a bit of a trouble standing - and walking, I assumed - her hair fell out of her ponytail and now covered half of her face, and her shirt was wet of some reason. She might be a bit more hurt than you think. They can't heal themselves, after all. I shoved away the thought. If she was stupid enough to engage in one of those fights, she should've known better than to call for me to clean her mess as she realised the situation got out of hand.

I approached her and locked my eyes on hers. "Call me for something like this again, and I will kill every other participant."

"I--" she looked up, meeting my eyes, and stayed silent for a long moment. I raised an eyebrow, and she nodded. Her voice didn't sound as strong as she spoke again. "Okay."

"Good," I cut. "What were you doing? It's morning, you should be sleeping, not fighting in bars."

"I took a walk." She crossed her arms, shrugging. "Ended up here."

"And?"

"And some guy started running his mouth. I told him that if he didn't shut it, I'd run my fist down his throat...but he didn't believe me."

"And I see playing a warrior turned out so well for you." I gestured at her shirt and bruises, half wondering if she'd ask me to fix it for her. I could say no just to see how she deals with it.

"It was fine, until his little friends took up the fight on his behalf."

"Then perhaps you should consider making some friends who'd fight on your behalf as well," I noticed.

"...Sound enough advice, I guess."

Well at least she didn't say something like "I have you", so her brain is probably still alright.
"Don't do it again," I kept my voice void of any emotions - even annoyance. "I might not come next time."

"You would." Her eyes got wide the second she said it, as if she wished she could take it back. I forced myself to keep my expression calm, smiling a smile even I knew was too sweet as I made her injuries hurt a bit more.

Of course I would. But you're forgetting who has the power here. "My job is not to get you out of your messes. Don't forget, there are various ways one could interpretate keeping a person alive."

She tried to lift her chin, but only had enough courage to do so for a moment, before backing down, nodding. "Alright...fine. No barfights."


i]I don't care in how many fights you get, but don't call me to get you out of them as you're incapable of doing it yourself.[/i] Thoughts of everything that needed to be done before the evening flashed through my mind. The carnival was something I wasn't looking forward to - there was too many people, most or all of them wearing masks, mortals and us mixing. And I was to hold speeches and smile as I shake hands, while my daugter wanders around. I was close enough to forbidding her from going - but now that I haven't, I needed someone to be there and make sure she doesn't get in trouble. I glanced back at my contractor.

"You are coming to the carnival tonight," I said.

"I don't want to," she replied. I glared at her. I wasn't asking you. "..Alright."

"Good. You'll keep an eye on Cleo for me." And she better not get hurt on your watch.

"What?" Her eyes widened. "No."

"No?" I considered making her injuries hurt way more than they should again. But apart from it being amusing, it would only mean I would have to work harder if she'd think of asking me to heal her later.

"I...you...she...f*ck me." She rubbed her face, glaring at nothing in particular.

I will take it as a yes. "Good." I wondered if she'd think of asking for anything in return.

"But...if I do this for you, you've gotta let me talk to my brother."

So, now you dare to ask. "You can talk to your brother at any time." It's none of my concern that he's unable to talk back.

"No. I want to talk to him again. His body is there, but his mind's not." Oh, I know. That mind is one of the strongest cards I have in this game of ours. "You need to bring him back so we can have a proper conversation again...please...sir."

I almost smiled. She was still afraid enough, even though she was trying to act stronger than she was. I remembered the day we met, and that desperation which practically filled the air around her. I still felt it there, and she still wanted for her brother what she had wanted then. It was almost sad and beautiful enough to be admirable - but then again, if her desire wasn't worth it, I wouldn't have came to her in the first place.

I kept my face impassive, snapping out of thoughts. I have been keeping her brother alive, as she asked - alive, but not aware of the world around him, unless on rare occasions as she'd deserve it somehow. She was trying to be nice now, correct being an idiot a few minutes earlier, but that could hardly be enough. She'll watch after Cleo. I narrowed my eyes at her. If something happened to my daughter, I would kill everyone responsible and probably many others in the process - but it wouldn't delete the fact something had happened to her.

"Very well," I said finally. I have better things than dealing with mortals anyway. I need to be alone. Preferably not in this form and somewhere far enough from humans. "Go talk to him, then. You have until the carnival."

"Oh..." She was quiet a moment, before her eyes lit up. "Oh! Thank you!"

She turned as I stayed silent, doing her best to run out and get home - the limp from whatever it was those men did to her wasn't quite helping it. I observed for a second before she stood at the door, leaning against them and brushing her hair out of her eyes. Well that's somewhat pathetic. I never understood why she hasn't asked me to do more for her. I could, using my abilities meant using her strength, after all, it wasn't something I cared about particularly. She was scared, yes, and I was used to that fact since the moment we met, but truth be told, I was still bound to do whatever she asked of me. I shook my head again. I need a demon to talk to. Preferably Avvie or someone who's mere appearance deletes every sane thought from my mind.

"Alright, stop." I walked over to her, ignoring the way she looked at me. I said you can talk. I won't take that back now. "You should get yourself in order a bit before that talk of yours. He might not recognize you looking like this even if he theoretically could." This is as friendly as you'll get. Build up your courage and ask me to fix you or faint on your way home, it's up to you.

"I'm fine. I don't need..." She cringed as she shifted her weight onto her injured leg. Sure you don't. She sighed, looking at my feet, seeming to struggle with her pride. "Silver...could you fix my leg, please?"

Yes, master. I smirked. "I suppose you asked nicely enough." I waved my hand, healing her leg and hand at the same time. You're welcome.
***

Are we posting our beginnings of our characters story?

Elia Cappani-- Town, Day One

I didn't get bored often. There were far too many things to see, and to learn, and too many places to explore to lose one's interest. I often read books, and went hiking, and explored the mansion that I shared with my step brother and Silver. I was bored. Plain and simple-- I couldn't make anything, or any books, interest me, even though it was still early morning. I'll take a walk.

I climbed out of the tree I was perched in, and walked, briskly, enjoying the burning in my legs and lungs, as I got nearer and nearer the town. As I drew closer, it became apparent that there was a crowd gathered in the Tavern. How interesting...

I moved closer, to peek in the door, to see why there were people there already. I had been up all night, wandering around the mansion, reading books, talking to my brother, Lyan. I didn't talk to him long. He wasn't himself, and I didn't like talking to him when he wasn't. I shook the thoughts of him from my mind as I stepped onto the porch and pushed the door open.

I'd never been to the tavern this time in the morning. I always assumed that it was rather vacant until the evenings. I pushed the door open, striding towards the bar, and sat down in the corner. I ordered a drink as I listened to the conversation. Nothing special was happening. Some people have less of a life than I gave them credit for.

I sat away from people, but near enough that I could eavesdrop on them. It was fascinating to watch people. To watch the way they talked to each other, the way some of them acted out their stories. I enjoyed contrasting one man against another-- evaluating their tone of voice, thier way of walking, the way they dressed.

"Her? She's no one."

I glanced towards a high-pitched male voice, and saw a group of men looking at me.

"Just the slut sister of that boy, Lyan."

I clenched my fists, forcing myself to look away from them. Don't get in a fight.

Even as my mind told me not to, my body tingled, excited, itching for a fight. ...Well, it would be something to-- no. Don't. Lyan won't be happy, and neither will Silver, if you get in a fight.

"Lyan? That half-wit."

I clenched my teeth, refusing to look at them. It was one thing to insult me. It was an entirely different matter to insult my brother. It wasn't his fault he was that way. Silver saved his life, but couldn't-- or didn't, I wasn't quite sure which-- save his mind. It came and went. Take it up with Silver, if you have a problem with my brother...I'm certain he could make my brother better, if he chose...he does, sometimes. So I can talk to him.

"Yeah." The man sneered. "He's the one who drools on himself and sh*ts in his pants."

"Shut your f*cking mouth." I whirled around, jumping from my stool, starting toward him.

"Aw, that's cute." The man was on his feet too. "I have to ask, though...what is it you plan to do, if I don't?"

"I'll cram my fist down your f*cking throat, you ignorant b*stard." I was just in front of him. "That's what."

"Well you have it to do."

You think I can't? You arrogant--

"And you'd better be quick, before your brother p*sses himself and needs you to--"

All thoughts of being peaceable left my mind. My fist swung through the air, slamming into his cheek. Blood sprayed from his mouth. I brought my knee up, into his stomach, bending him double with pain. I grabbed a fistful of his hair and slammed his face into the edge of the bar one...two...three times, before throwing him to the ground.

An arm wrapped around my neck, jerking me off my feet, dragging me across the hard wood floor as I struggled to regain my footing. The man holding on to me finally paused, giving me enough time to get to my feet.

I drove my elbows into his side, taking his moment's distraction to slip out of his chokehold. I spun around, my foot slamming into the man's side, knocking him to the ground. I whirled around once more, punching a man in the throat as he tried to grab me from behind.

A fourth man, sprung out of nowhere, landed a blow on my cheek. I staggered backward, into a table, my world spinning. I only barely ducked out of the way of a barstool, as it whizzed past my head, brushing my head.

A mountain of a man, who stood head and shoulders over me, charged forward.Sh*t, sh*t, sh*t.. I stumbled to the side, my world still spinning, trying to get out of his way. No, no, no. He ran into me so hard, it felt like a car hit me. He pushed me half-way across the bar before he stopped, grabbing one of my arms and one of my legs, spinning around twice, and throwing me across the room.

I crashed into a wall, hard, and then started falling. I tucked my head, trying to protect it with my arms, as I fell to the ground behind the bar, bottles and shattered glass raining down on me. I groaned as I threw my arm off of my face, and groggily opened my eyes. My right leg was on the bar, the rest of my body behind it.

The head of a man, directly in front of me. His hands moved toward my leg, trying to grab it. I quickly jerked it off the bar, knowing better than to give him an opportunity like that, even though I couldn't think properly.

The man smirked, putting his hands on the bar, glancing down it a ways. I followed his gaze, and saw a man walking towards me, to my left. The man in front of me jumped over the bar, landing just to my left. He grabbed a fistful of my shirt. Aw, no...

Half a second later the other man grabbed the other side of my shirt, and the two of them jerked me up, jarring my throbbing back. "No!"

They threw me onto the bar, dragging me down it's length. "Dammit!"

My leg slipped off the bar, and my foot caught a support that stopped me short, dragging me off the edge of the bar, jerking on my leg, hard. I yelped, my entire body aching, as I grabbed my leg and began nursing it. My eye was swelling, my hand ripped open on someone's teeth. Ow.

A moment later I looked up, and found at least ten guys advancing on me. I struggled to my feet, limping to the side, unable to place weight on my leg properly. I put my hands in front of my chest, open, trying to calm things down. "Come on, guys...this isn't fair. Ten on one..."

"F*ck you."

"You wish." The response slipped from my mouth before I could stop it. I ducked under a bottle that came my way, dodging a fist in the same motion, slamming my hand into the man's abodmen. I kicked his friend, hard, as he came forward to help-- bringing him to his knees.

Someone grabbed my hair, slamming my head into the wall. I twisted away from him, leaving a fistful of my hair in his hands, and stumbled backward. Help...help me...Silver. I need you. I need...HELP! I was slammed into another wall.

I staggered away from them, trying to avoid them all, not realizing until it was too late that I'd backed into a corner. F*ck, f*ck, f*ck...


"Really now." A loud voice cut. "In the era you like to call modern, is this how people act?"

I felt a wave of relief hit me as I recognized it as Silver's. The men instantly stilled, parting to let him through. I breathed a sigh of relief. He looked at me flatly, but continued to address the men. "Besides, if it takes eight of you to win against a young girl, that says more about you than her."

There were more of them. I nearly smirked. Would've, if he didn't have such a forboding look in his eyes.

All but one of them shuffled away. That man, the one who'd leapt over the bar to grab me, argued. "Sir, she--"

He stopped short as he looked into Silver's eyes. I didn't have to see them to know how scary they must've been. I suddenly felt like having Silver near me would be worse for me, than the 8 drunkards. "...I have better things to do than this."

He practically ran away. I wished I could run, before Silver remembered that I was-- he shook his head and turned toward me. Sh*t

I straighted my shoulders, carefully not putting any weight on my right leg, the knee buckling every time I tried. I noticed my hair was in my face. I brushed it away, looking at him, feeling very small.

He strode toward me swiftly, locking his eyes on my face."Call me for something like this again, and I will kill every other participant."

You're overreacting. I think you need to calm down.
"I--" I finally met his gaze. His steelly, slightly red eyes bore into me, forboding. He lifted an eyebrow, daring me to finish. I nodded, feeling sick. "Okay."

"Good." He answered. "What were you doing? It's morning, you should be sleeping, not fighting in bars."

"I took a walk." I crossed her arms, shrugging. I wasn't about to tell him that it was about Lyan. He didn't like my brother anyway-- I didn't need to give him a reason. "Ended up here."

"And?"

"And some guy started running his mouth. I told him that if he didn't shut it, I'd run my fist down his throat...but he didn't believe me."

"And I see playing a warrior turned out so well for you." He gestured at me.

"It was fine, until his little friends took up the fight on his behalf." I sulked.

"Then perhaps you should consider making some friends who'd fight on your behalf as well."

Why should I? I can always call you. Somehow, I didn't think that answer would go over well. "...Sound enough advice, I guess."

"Don't do it again." He said coldly. "I might not come next time."

"You would." He'd always come. I shouldn't have said that. I felt my eyes go wide in panic, as I waited to see what he'd do. He smiled too sweetly-- it sent a twinge through all of my wounds, even as it sent a shiver down my spine.

"My job is not to get you out of your messes." I know. "Don't forget, there are various ways one could interpretate keeping a person alive."

I lifted my chin a moment, trying to prove that I wasn't scared of him, that his threats had no effect on me. But I was, and they did. An image of Lyan flashed through my mind-- alive, but not himself. The body of a man, with the mind of a child. I shivered, unable to keep my chin up, nodding. "Alright...fine. No barfights."

He looked around, ignoring me for several long moments. Don't hurt me...lord knows I can't handle much more pain in my state. He glanced at me. Don't hurt me. Don't hurt me. Don't hurt--

"You are coming to the carnival tonight."

What? "I don't want to."

He glared at me. Shut up, before he does hurt you. "...Alright."

"Good. You'll keep an eye on Cleo for me."

"What?" I felt my eyes go wide once more. He'll kill you. "No."

"No?" He hissed, eyes flashing.

"I..." I-I-I can't do that. "You..." You'll kill me if anything happens to her, and... "She..." She's far more powerful than...but I can't tell you... "F*ck me."

I rubbed my face, glaring.

"Good."

Bad.

I was quiet a long moment, contemplating how I'd manage to survive this night. I didn't think he'd approve of me tying her up and sitting on her all night, to be sure we didn't get separated-- to be sure nothing happened to her. F*ck it. I should at least get to talk to my brother, for this night of hell.

"But...if I do this for you, you've gotta let me talk to my brother."

"You can talk to your brother at any time."

"No. I want to talk to him again." I snapped before I knew what I was doing. "His body is there, but his mind's not."

I caught myself, but didn't care. I'm probably going to die later anyway... "You need to bring him back so we can have a proper conversation again..." Before something happens to your daughter, and you whack me.

There was an off chance I'd survive this night. Not if you talk to him like that. "Please...sir."

He kept his face impassive for a long moment, before narrowing his eyes. "Very well."

It's not fair you--

"Go talk to him, then. You have until the carnival."

"Oh..." He's not arguing. He said...I can! Excitement washed through me. "Oh! Thank you!"

He didn't answer. I didn't care. I whirled around, sprinting towards the door. It didn't take long-- one step, to be exact-- for me to slow. I limped toward the door, not caring how I looked, not caring how much it hurt me. I was going to talk to Lyan. That was all that mattered.

I fell against the doorframe as I reached it, taking a break while I had something to lean against, panting. I wasn't in very good condition. I brushed my hair out of my face, getting annoyed by it, pulling it back into it's ponytail. Come on, Elia...come on. Man up. Get home. Get home...get ot Lyan.

"Alright, stop." He was starting toward me. It felt a crushing blow. What? No. No, no, no. No! You said I could talk to Lyan! You said-- "You should get yourself in order a bit before that talk of yours. He might not recognize you looking like this even if he theoretically could."

"I'm fine. I don't need..." I shifted my weight, taking a step closer the door, and cringed as the weight sent a sharp pain through my knee, and up my leg. I can't believe I'm going to... I sighed, swallowing my pride. I have to, if I want to get home... "Silver...could you fix my leg, please?"

He smirked. Shut up. It's not funny.

"I suppose you asked nicely enough." He waved his hand. Suddenly, my flesh stretched everywhere I was cut, and mended itself, a sharp pain hitting me every place I was injured. I nearly yelped, stumbling backward.

A moment later the pain was gone. I felt slightly more tired than before, but, aside from a dull throbbing, my body felt good again. I flexed my hand, looking at it, amazed-- testing my leg. I looked at him again. I'd never get used to him. Ever.

I murmured my thanks, turning quickly, sprinting toward the mansion.
~

I didn't slow until I was already in the mansion. I stopped just outside the door to his room, my breathing as shaky as my hands were. I carefully turned the knob, and pushed the door open. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, his back to me.

I stepped into his room.

He turned toward me, and my breath caught-- not sure what to expect. Recognition flashed across his face, and he leapt to his feet. "Elia!"

Oh, he's back! "Lyan!" I ran across the room to meet him, as he ran towards me. He wrapped his arms around me, lifting me off the ground as he pulled me into a bear hug that squeezed every speck of breath from my lungs. I didn't mind. It wasn't like I could breathe anyway.

I silently sobbed into his shoulder, pulling him closer, unwilling to let him go. "I missed you so much."

"Oh, I missed you, too." He stroked my hair, finally setting me down, holding me at arm's length to look at me. "Look at you. You've gotten so-- what happened to your face?"

My hand darted up to my face, and I flinched, realizing that I still had a bruise. "Nothing."

"Have you been fighting again?"

I lifted a shoulder. "Maybe."

"Elia." He said strictly, sighing. "You're far too old to be fighting. You're eighteen years old."

"Nineteen." I corrected.

"Nineteen, then. That just-- wait, you're nineteen?"

I nodded, smiling sadly, tears still dribbling from my eyes, even though I tried to make them stop. "Getting old, huh?"

"...How long was I gone?"

I frowned, biting my lip.

"Elia." He said firmly. "It's my right to know. How long?"

"Thirteen months." I sighed,

He sat down on the bed, taking his head in his hands. "That's longer than the last times."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your--"

"It is." I turned away from him, looking out the window. "My Contractor...he says I misbehave too much...that when I mature, he'll let you come be around me more."

"What have you been doing?"

"I'm trying to be good." I turned back towards him. "I promise. I've missed you so much. It just gets...so very lonely."

"What have you done?" He repeated, looking at me suspiciously.

"Nothing. I was just--"

"What. Have. You. Done?"

"I said--"

"I know you." He interupted. "Your 'nothings' are the worst of them all."

I sighed. "The worst thing I've done." Today. "Is gotten in a fight."

"With whom?"

"I don't know his name." Their names.

"His?"

"Come on, Dad." I rolled my eyes, reaching out for his hand, smiling. "Let's go some place. It's a nice day, let's enjoy it." As much as I can, knowing I only have you for a few hours.

"Hopefully the first of many more."

His words sent a pang through my chest. I wish. I tried to smile. "Yeah."

"What?" He asked, looking down at me as we moved toward the door.

"Nothing." I lifted a shoulder. "I just agreed."

"No. You know something. What is it?"

Dammit I hated that he could always tell. Always. "I'll tell you later. Let's go."
~

I felt him slipping away, getting more quiet, colder, as the carnival got ever closer. He went to his bed and began hugging a stuffed animal, murmuring to himself, a child once more. I sighed bitterly, shaking my head, hugging my knees to my chest as I looked out the window.

I knew I should be happy. Should be exceedingly grateful that Silver let me be with my brother for an afternoon. He would be dead, if not for Silver. I tried to remind myself. That Silver was the person keeping us together-- not forcing us apart. It still hurt.

"It's time for the carnival."

Speak of the devil. I never turned toward the voice, but rather glanced at my brother instead. "I know."

"I warned you."

"I don't see why he has to go." It was a lot easier to be bold when I didn't have to look at him. I hadn't realized, until that moment, just how intimidating he was physically.

"You should be thankful you got him at all."

"I am." I finally turned toward him, meeting his gaze as I stood up, swallowing hard. My throat burned. I truly am. "Thank you."

"Mm."

But I'm not ready to be alone again. I had an idea, but I didn't have the courage to present it. I wished Silver would've came before Lyan left. Lyan was far better at talking, and convincing people, than I was. He was braver, too.

I stood up and walked toward Lyan, straightening his collar, patting his hair down. "Have you ever met my brother, when he wasn't like this?"

He didn't answer. I felt tears pricking my eyes as Lyan looked up at me, his eyes innocent and dumb. i continued. "He's so different...his eyes are so knowing...he's kind...protective."

"Was he your backup in fights, then?" Silver's snark.

Yes, actually...when he let me fight at all. "Sometimes...he's very observant. Good at keeping other people well away from the danger..."

He didn't answer again. I bit my lip, my back still to him, courage dwindling. This would be easier if you'd actually answer...it's too bad you're not human. You don't rise to the bait-- you don't ask what I'm talking about, so it makes it harder to lead into it. "Actually, he's far better at guarding people than I am...together, he and I could keep anyone safe. I'm certain."

I closed my eyes, and waited for an answer.

The sun was shining through the open window as Phoebe's eyes opened. The faint sound of the humans going about their day could be heard, something that she dreaded. Phoebe wasn't their biggest fan but she didn't have anything specific against them. They provided sustenance for her fellow demons and Phoebe respected that.

"Don't kid yourself." She muttered, the thought flowing through her mind. The other demons in town saw her as a burden, a mere halfling in their midst. So what if she didn't have a true form. Phoebe had never had any problems about her appearance until she'd come back here, she'd always thought that having the appearance of a human put her at an advantage.

"You'll never be a true demon with that face." The words of the stranger echoed through her mind as she recalled that night. A hushed voice in the darkness that had disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. To this day she wasn't sure of the true identity of the person who'd insulted her, but just like the other human traits that crossed over after her death, Phoebe would keep over thinking it.

She climbed out of bed and immediately changed into her clothes. Many of the human males glanced at her appreciatively but the women just snubbed her and went about their business. Phoebe refused to wear frilly dresses and carry around a small irritating fan.

As Phoebe slipped her feet into her motorcycle boots, she used both hands to sweep her hand over her shoulders and then headed for the front door. It was a reasonably crisp morning but not clear enough to allow a moderate amount of sun between the clouds. Like always, Phoebe's blonde hair retained its glow and she her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket.

Suddenly realisation hit her face and she turned, sighing in relief as her faithful company was stood in front of her. "I thought I'd forgotten about you." Using a hushed tone so that nobody would suspect her of talking to the spirits, Phoebe smiled at the small hellhound pup that was wagging its tail.

Turning on her heel and let out a happy sigh, Phoebe headed towards her destination almost with a skip in her step. Today was the day of the carnival and she had been looking forward to it for days. The carnival was going to be the perfect place for Phoebe to suss out which mortal was willing to make a deal. She was beginning to feel the pull of her family, the incessant knot in her stomach that alerted her to their demands.

Choosing to withhold the small detail that she was bound to whomever she made a contract with, she watched happily as her family fled the Town. Now it seemed that they had figured out that she was rightfully theirs, but Phoebe would fight tooth and nail to keep things normal. She was beginning to form a life here and nobody, human or otherwise was going to disrupt that.

"Phoebe." The woman turned immediately and smiled warmly at the arrival of Charlie. Charlie was the twenty-one year old mechanic that worked with his father at the garage. He was tall, lean and had the most adorable freckles splattered across the mid-section of his face.

"Charlie, you're up early." Phoebe replied, her eyes darting to the bared teeth of Rufio.

She and Charlie had met a few weeks ago when she was collecting the rent from his father. He was working on a car and immediately caught her eye. Those dirty overalls and ruffled blonde hair, he looked more than appealing.

"Had to get an early start, I'm just off to the store to grab some supplies. It's going to be a long day." He absentmindedly scratched the back of his head.

"Then I'll leave you too it, I'm just off to grab a mask for the carnival. Are you going?" Secretly Phoebe hoped that he was but then realised how human she was behaving. No doubt there was a demon in the vicinity laughing at her, watching her mingle amongst the clients.

"I wasn't actually. Although now that I know you're going, I just might."

Phoebe blushed slightly and smiled. "Then maybe I'll see you there." Phoebe waved and Charlie said goodbye.

The euphoric feeling of Charlie's presence quickly wore off and Phoebe found determination and manipulation settle in its place. She pressed a palm on the door of the mask shop and walked in.

"Hello." Martin Reid greeted me in his own usual sullen way. "Who wouldn't be constantly depressed if they were shacked up with a demon 24/7.." Stepping forward and admiring the masks on the walls, Phoebe leant against one of the display cases and tapped her fingers against the glass.

"Martin." Phoebe nodded. "Masque." The familiar chill shot down Phoebe's spine as she greeted her fellow demon. Masque was a lot stronger and experienced than she was, but even someone of her calibre couldn't break through the shroud. She hoped, at least.

"What can I help you with?" Martin asked.

"Nothing in particular, I was just coming in to grab a mask for the carnival."

"You've already purchased several." Masque commented, his gaze narrowing on Phoebe.

"I'm spoilt for choice, they're all beautiful." Phoebe picked up a delicate purple mask and then set it down, folding her arms in feign confidence.

"Then please select one and leave. We have things to do."

"Come on, Masque. I was hoping that the two of us would become friends, or maybe allies."

Masque sighed, a breathless motion that no human would notice. "I do not have time for your games, demon. Goodbye." With that, Masque passed Phoebe and headed for the door. "Make sure she pays." He shot over his shoulder before leaving.

Martin nodded in reply and then walked over to the till. "How do you live with that?" Phoebe asked, her eyes gazing over the various other masks that were new; they hadn't been here the last time she visited.

"Long story." Phoebe rolled her eyes and then picked up a small canary yellow mask, one that balanced on the edge of the nose and only covered the eyes. "Perfect." Phoebe whispered, kneeling down to hook it on one of the bones on Rufio's collar; it turned invisible the moment Phoebe let go.

"That'll be-"

"Take it off of the rent." Phoebe winked at Martin and then left the store, her mind turning instantly back to the carnival. "I suppose we better head back and get ready."

Maita Aoife Laois | Demon House | Nighttime Day 0

The deamon's head rolled on the floor, a pool of blood slowly growing around it. It had put up a fight, but then I wasn't one to be killed by a deamon. I wiped my daggers on the thing's clothes then stood up. This one had taken the form of a man in his early thirties, and had been able to put up a fight. The deamons had been becoming weaker for a while now, and whilst it still wasn't easy to kill them, it made our jobs easier. I had taken out several since I had arrived two weeks ago as a receptionist for LEX. It was hard to get used to the fact of having my ski, crawl at least once every day and not being able to get rid of the cause for it, especially since I didn't know who they were. I hadn't wanted to be revealed as Hunter, so I had kept my family's tattoo hidden under my hair, even if I was proud of being a Laois.
I left the deamon's house by a back window and wrapped my coat around my shoulders, buttoning it up so that the few bloodstains I had managed to get on my clothes were hidden. As I hurried down the dark backstreets under the rain to my small apartment, I felt a presence that made the hairs on my arms stand up, but it was fleeting, and thought it left a slightly familiar imprint on my mind, I couldn't hold onto it for long enough to remember where I had felt it before. I shook the tension from my body and put my dagger back in its sheath on my leg, then continued back to my apartment.
I gently set my daggers down on a cloth, then took my gun out and placed it next to them. After a scalding shower that burned every last trace of filthy deamon from mu body, I sat down on the edge of my bed and cleaned my daggers, sharpening them once I was done. Ya must always take care of yer weapons, my little warrior. My Papa's voice reminded me as I picked up my gun. My hand tightened for a second. I would never be able to see him or my Mama again. I shook my head and finished cleaning my gun, then set it in the second drawer of my bedside-table along with my daggers and fell into a light sleep.

A shadow stands over my Mama and Papa, their blood pooling around its non-existent feet. I call out to them, my voice a thin whisper in the deafening silence. The shadow takes a step towards me, and suddenly, my body is no longer solid, and I am standing over my parents, with a blade that's not quite there in my hands. I am a deamon, I know.


Maita Aoife Laois | Appartment / LEX offices / places | Day One

I woke up, a cold sweat beading on my forehead, my breath coming in short rapid bursts. I clenched my hands into fists and tried to calm down. It's not going to happen. I'd rather die. I sighed and swung out of bed. I had to be at LEX in in a few hours, and it wouldn't do to be late. Late was suspicious. Suspicious got people killed. I stripped off my bedclothes and checked that none of the bruises from the fight last night had become worse. It wasn't likely, but it had happened before. Once I was done, I got ready for work and headed down to the office.
No one was there yet, so I sorted the post and checked to see if there were any visitors I'd have to watch out for. Speaking of things to watch out for...There's that carnival this afternoon. Deamons are bound to come to that. But I couldn't kill any deamons out in the open, and killing one took time. I had to make sure that I could take them, then find their weakness... It was a lot of work just to kill a monster. But it was satisfying, getting rid of a creature that could rob people of their parents, like I had been robbed of mine. The door opened, and I looked up as the hairs on my arms rose.
Mr Avratz strode through the room and placed his hands on my desk, looking down at me. His lips curled slightly. I leaned back slightly. Too close, even if you were human.
"Miss Maita," he breathed. "Are you looking forward to the carnival?"

I blinked. He took some getting used to.

"Um, yes, sir."

"You're quite fortunate to have come to the Town at this time, it's truly quite a shame to miss it." As quickly as he'd come in, the deamon moved away, to the window, staring out. "Is it a beautiful day?" I didn't understand his questions. In the two weeks I had been here, I hadn't even started to get a grasp on this deamon. He was inconsistent and changed as swiftly as the wind blew. It was extremely unsettling, and made me even edgier than I already was.

"It is, sir." I fiddled with the pens on the desk, wanting the comfortable weight of a dirk in my hand. I didn't even have any with me at the Town. All I had was daggers, cultured people's weapons. I wanted to rampage like my ancestors. I would've had a weapon on me all the time if possible, but it was suspicious.

"Beautiful?" he snapped, turning around suddenly, making my fingers twitch. Calm. You can't stay hidden if you're not calm. "I hate the damp, it does horrors to my joints."

"Um, well, I don't know, sir. The weather doesn't make the day." The kills do. That's what my parents used to say.

Avratz chuckled. "Well said, well said indeed. The weather doesn't make the day..." he trailed off. "You have an intriguing accent, Miss Maita. It reminds me of the Britons. Where are you from?"

"Ireland, sir."

"Ah, I haven't visited...Ireland... in quite some time." I'm sure you haven't. Why did you come to the Town?"

"I moved around quite a bit, sir, and ended up here."

"I see. Well, I'll be heading off to the carnival now. I expect to see you there! Don't forget a mask." He turned on his heels and left briskly, leaving me wondering what on earth the point had been to the conversation.

***

I looked up at the sign hanging over the door. "Masquerade’s Masks". Apparently this was was the best place in town to get a mask for the carnival. I pushed open the door and jumped slightly at a jingling above me. I glanced up and saw lots of little bells, like on an old-fashioned jester's hat above me. I glanced around and couldn't see anyone. It made me jumpy. Hell, everything about this town made me jumpy.

"Hello?" I called. No one replied. Taking a closer look at the store, I saw that masks covered every inch of the place, walls and ceilings. They were beautifully made, and so lifelike. I edged over to one of the walls, gazing at them. There was a black one laced with white that caught my eye. I reached out to take it off of the wall.

"Please, don't touch anything," a loud voice came from behind me. I jumped and span around, my hand going towards my leg from instinct. There wasn't a blade there anyway. A man stood there, a slightly peeved expression on his face. I didn't catch much of his appearance, my skin started to crawl when I saw him. Deamon. I forced a smile onto my face.

"I'm sorry."

"Are you here to buy a mask for the carnival?" I nodded. Keep calm. Yes, it's a deamon,
but yer not going to try and kill it here, are ya? You don't know its weakness, or anything about it. It's strong, ya know that from the crawlers, so stay calm and act normal.

"Yes. This one is very pretty, it is." I winced slightly at the intrusion of the habits from my childhood, then showed the one that I had been about to take from the wall.

"I don't sell any of my masks, since something of such high quality is hard to come by, but I do rent them out for special occasions. The fair would be one of those." He gently took the mask from the wall and handed it to me. "It will suit you perfectly." A small smile played on his lips, like he knew something I didn't.

"Thank you...how much?" I asked, tentatively taking it from him whilst trying not to touch him. All I wanted to do now was get out, and get out as soon a possible.

"One favour. Nothing more, nothing less." I eyed him. A favour? Is it a trap? "It comes in handy to be able to call in a favour now and then." Even from a Hunter? I sighed.

"Okay then, one favour." I looked around again and saw a mask in a glass case. It was the only one. "Is that one special?" I asked despite myself.

"It's the most beautiful one in the shop. That demands a display case, don't you think?"

"Indeed." I glanced past it to the counter and saw a shock of dark hair. I blinked. "I do believe someone is hiding behind your counter."

He turned around. "Cleo, I think it's time you head home. Your dad gets bothersome when he's worried." The girl stepped out from behind the counter, but stood behind the owner of the
shop. Afraid? Unsure? Shy?

"I don't think I saw you before." Shy. Or untrusting.

"I'm new to the town. I came here two weeks ago."

She observed me for a moment, glancing at the mask I held. "Are you going to the carnival tonight?"

"I am, yes." I need to see if I can find some deamons to work on.

"Oh, that's great," she smiled at me. "Does it mean you like the town so far?"

Apart from the deamons... "I do, yes." I flashed her a smile. She opened her mouth to reply, as the bells over the door chimed again. A tall man with dark hair strode into the shop, making me tense. He was dressed in a long gone fashion, but that wasn't what caught my attention. What did was that I was in a room with two pretty strong deamons, and that I was way out of my league. He glanced at me, spotted the girl and nodded a bit to the shop owner.

"Why haven't you sent her home yet?" He asked, as the girl approached him.

"He did," she admitted. "But I was talking. She's new in town," she smiled in my direction again.

"Maita Connors. Nice to meet you." I held out my hand, smiling. Don't be suspicious, don't be suspicious...

"A charming name," he noticed, taking my hand in his. "You can call me Silver, everyone does. Welcome to our town."

"Why thank you, Mr Silver. It's a very beautiful place."

"As its mayor, I am delighted to hear so." Mayor? "We might see each other at the carnival - I must excuse myself now, though." He glanced over at the girl. "Cleo. Come now." Is she his contractor? Or are they family? Can deamons even have family? The girl - Cleo - followed him out of the store, glancing back and smiling as she left. I felt the tension leave my shoulders slightly, but I still felt the need to leave. This Town was not good for my heart. I turned back to the owner.

"So one favour, yes? Well, thank you. I'll take good care of the mask." I smiled as the man nodded and turned to leave before stopping. "See you at the carnival, maybe." I hurried out of the door and started down the street. The man who had gone with Cleo was Mayor, so he was probably one of the strongest deamons. Stay away for the moment, then, if needs be, send for back up. But wait. Don't rush in, think and analyse. The store owner was strong too. So he has a contractor, probably. Get closer and find out. I sighed and scratched the top of my head before smoothing down my hair again. All I had really come here for was to see if I could find my parents' killer.

Avratz || LEX Offices || Several weeks prior to Day 1 ||

"Miss Maita Connors, is it?"I asked. She did not seem like the type for a desk job. Her eyes twinkled. She was tense on her chair, sitting on the edge of it. The girl seemed ready to bolt at any moment. I grinned, just enough for her to see the teeth. That always had a nice effect on people.

"Yes, sir."

"Tell me, what do you think of the painting behind me?" I waved a hand at the da Vinci original behind me. I recalled the man. He reminded me of the girl. His eyes were bright, perhaps the brightest of any man I had ever met. This painting in particular wasn't available anywhere else, it had been a gift to me. It was perhaps the most abstract da Vinci I had seen. It depicted an oak tree by a river. The intricate beauty and detail of it always astounded me, but now, the painting served another purpose.

"It reminds me of home, I think, sir."

I blinked and licked my lips. I'd never gotten a similar response before. Interesting. Very interesting.

"Why would you like a job at LEX? We don't tolerate lax or sloppy work. You'll need to be precise and careful. Even a tiny mistake in the paperwork may mean ruining someone's life, permanently."

"I understand, sir. I wanted a job where I can use my perfectionism."

"You're hired. I expect to see you tomorrow at six am sharp." I turned and walked away quickly. What harm could it do? I needed a receptionist anyway. Besides, that glimmer in her eyes. Someone with such a glimmer should be kept close by.

**

Day 1 || LEX Offices

Ireland. The name meant absolutely nothing to me. I recalled it a thousand years ago. It was a land of savages, fiercely loyal to their home and ready to sacrifice their lives for it. Fiercely loyal to their homes...

When the Roman Empire was at the height of its power, I had met a Celt mercenary. He was in charge of a small group of troops and were allied to the Germanic tribes. I had spoken to their troop before they died. Butchered like pigs. I chuckled. What I recalled distinctly from these men was not their worth in battle, nay, that left to be desired. But they all longed for home intensely. Longed for home...

I blinked. What had she said on the day of her interview? It reminded her of home. And just now, she'd mentioned moving from home, which was, incidentally, Ireland. I laughed.

I walked into my office. I liked my office, despite the mountains of paperwork that was piled high on my desk, perhaps because of it. A chaotic desk gives a room a sense of order, in a way. Yes, order. A man with a chaotic desk clearly always has something to do in his life, therefore his life has meaning.

I sat down. I liked my chair, too. The one thing perhaps I did not like in this office was the desk. It was a boring desk. No history to it. I picked up one of the papers in front of me. Babilonian tax affairs. I picked up a pen. Wait... I crumpled the paper and tossed it in the trash.

"Why am I in here...?"

Oh, right. I opened a drawer and looked through the house insurance policies. Sure enough, Miss Connors' was in there, signed to LEX Inc. Everything was in order, but aha. There was a third party involved in the contract, a business. It made sense. Someone working as a receptionist probably couldn't afford to straight up buy a house here, with no morgage or anything. I put down the paper and stood. The carnival called. But first, a few errands called more loudly.

**

"Mr. Ross," I said, trying to sound warm.

The head of police saluted smartly, staring straight ahead. "Sir!"

"At ease, Mr. Ross." I waved a hand and sat down at the chair in front of his desk. This one was very clean and tidy, shiny, even. I supposed not much happened around the town, but at the moment, the man's expression betrayed worry. He was tense.

"I have something very important to ask you, Mr. Ross. Your career could be at stake."

He gulped. His face, already very florid, flushed. He stroked his ginger whiskers nervously.

"Could I have a coffee?"

The man let out a very strange noise, like a tire being deflated. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead.

"O-of course, sir." The man moved towards the coffeemaker.

"Not too much sugar."

"Was this the, um, very important question, sir? If I may ask."

I took the coffee and sipped it. It wasn't very sweet, just how I liked it. This particular coffee had a peculiar taste to it. It was richer than what I was used to, I could practically taste the burnt cocoa beans on my lips. Well, he was a fool to think he'd move up by serving me better coffee.

"No, you idiot, of course it wasn't," I said, very calmly. Mr. Ross's face became ashen again. He was such a weak individual. How ever did he manage to worm his way up to being the head of police? I'd have to have a word with Sil about this.

"The demon that was killed recently. Do you have leads on the culprit?"

"N-no, sir. There were no eyewitnesses. It was professionally done, and I've seen a fair share of murders in my time."w

Probably three, five at most. I frowned.

"That will be all, Mr. Ross. Thank you for your time."

**

Later in the day || Silver's house


"So, Sil, are you excited for the carnival?" I asked, not looking at him. I liked Sil's garden. It was more aesthetically pleasing than him, at the very least.

"Of course I'm not," he smirked.

I frowned. Always such a killjoy. It's not like he got out regularly. The carnival would probably do him good.

"Why not?" It was probably a stupid question. I could already see the answer forming on his lips.

"I'm not a fond of crowds...not having to worry too much about acting like mortals will be a welcome change, though."

I chuckled. "Danger everywhere for your little girl in crowds, eh?"

I knew Sil was glaring, even if I wasn't actually looking at him. I opened my mouth, then closed it again. Perhaps it wasn't the best of times... ah, who cares. It would be very interesting to hear what he'd say next, at least.

"Speaking of little girls... have you ever been to Ireland?"

"Ireland? Yes, I have visited it once or twice."

Aha. I knew he had, of course, but his was an evasive answer. Very casual. Casual was good. Most similar conversations I'd had were very casual, and usually involved a heavy use of the conditional.

"I've heard it's a very nice place, but I haven't been to it myself in quite a while. Oh, by the way, my newest employee is Irish. A certain Maita Connors."

"Maita Connors. I can't say I've heard of her, so I take it she's not one of us?"

...perhaps not the answer I was hoping for, but oh well. Sil was never one for being direct, or blunt. One of us... what defined a demon, really? The humans, weak as they were, had developed great ideas indeed, there had been great men of wisdom among their kind. Demons were not so. They were old, yes, but perhaps still had to evolve, follow the cognitive process that...

"Avvie."

"No, she's human," I replied. "She has an interesting twinkle in her eyes."

I stood. The carnival would probably do me good, not just Sil. I'd been stuck in the office for too long.

"I'll see you at the carnival then, Sil."

"You're the one to know about eyes..how interesting is this twinkle, exactly? I barely recall when you last hired a mortal."

"I said I'll see you at the carnival. I'll see myself out."

I was about to push back the screen door when I stopped.

"Or you will stay and tell me. It's my responsibility if someone..interesting in a wrong way..enters this city."

It's our responsibility to defend our country. That's what the soldier had said. Responsibility. Such foolish thought, indeed. I blinked again.

"Silver. I asked her what she thought about the da Vinci. She said it reminded her of home."

I pushed the screen door back and walked out.

**

|Dranz Tevrotn| Day One | The East Side of Town


“Tell me who put you up for this?”

The figure in Dranz's hands tried to change forms, screaming and squirming in his grasp, but to no avail. The old Soul-seeker had been right, ice could prevent young demons from shapeshifting! Finally the little fellow stopped struggling and returned to his usual black-haired boy form.

He was oddly young for a demon. Insanely so.

“I was-, uh,” tears formed in his eyes, “just picking up rocks outside -the, the, the window! I'm sorry. I didn't mean any harm. Please! Let me go!”

Dranz frowned, this kid was nervous, not a good sign. Everyone's nervous around Watchers, he sighed to himself.

Nobody had business around the mayor's window, but this was just a kid. Sighing again, he let go of him, and watched silently as he ran off. “You're getting psychotic Dranz,” he muttered to himself. Pulling a knife on everybody who wasn't perfectly in line was . . . a bit odd, to say the least. But that was his job. To be suspicious.

And he did it well. Sadly though, his list of people who needed hunting down never seemed to change size. Every day in this miserable little town, some idiot did something he wasn't supposed to . . . and every day Dranz had to go hunt those people down.

And right now, just before the festival, things were getting pretty violent. In other words, Dranz's job was getting harder.

Just wait till AFTER the festival, he muttered to himself, flipping a 9-mil out of his belt and spinning it around his hand. Things would be bad then, for sure.

But he didn't mind. Truthfully speaking, Dranz almost enjoyed his job. He sometimes caught himself wishing, as demented as he knew it was, that there would always be a job for him.

He had just left the Town Jail with another human to lock up, some petty thief, and was now standing outside the window to the mayor's mansion, where he'd just found the little black haired demon seemingly spying on an ongoing conversation.

Slowly he shook his head and began to pace toward the edge of town. It was getting late and he felt like a cold swim in the river before bed.

If he hadn't been living in the town for so many long years, hunting down it's criminals, he would probably have been put on edge by the way other demons went to great lengths to avoid his cloaked figure. But he'd learned not to let it bother him a long, long time ago.

Expect nothing of people and you'll never be disappointed, his father had always said. It was a good rule to build your life around. It kept disappointments at bay, and helped him to learn to not be bothered by some of the things he saw and did.

Reaching the banks of the wide, flowing Fawnstone, deep and dark in the light of the falling sun, Dranz shrugged off his cloak and outer clothes, and then jumped into a deep, cold bend. A few dozen yards away a group of human boys were swimming and playing, but Dranz kept careful to keep out of their sight. No need to frighten them away from their fun.

Deeper and deeper he swam, unconscious of his pounding ears. Water held life for him. It held peace. He enjoyed his evening swims . . . free of their responsibility. Only when his lungs were screaming for air did he return to the surface, panting hard.

Reaching the surface of the river he glanced downstream, his eyes instantly falling on the sight of a young boy being pounded by two older, yelling boys. Ignore it, he told himself. But his instincts would not allow it, and diving under, he headed downriver; moving fast and silent.

The two older boys didn't even notice him slip out of the water, clothed in his shirt and pants (the warm, dry evenings allowed for one to stay soaked). “Hey!” he called, stopping one of them in the middle of punching the younger boy, “You boy's have a problem here?”

Thankfully the boys didn't recognize him. They only saw a tall, almost thin man, hardly any bigger than either of them. “He pushed me in!” one of them snarled angrily.

Dranz raised an eyebrow at the younger boy, who was crying, cowering in the water, “well, I do think you could resolve your problem a bit more peacefully, don't you? Why didn't you just push him in too, and be done with it?”

The older of the two boys glared at him, he was probably seventeen or eighteen, thickly built, with mean eyes. “Listen mister, just leave us alone! We solve this how we need to.”

Dranz frowned at him, “do I detect a threa-”

“Hey Watcher!” his words were cut abruptly, and he looked up at the bank where a tall, thin person was standing, practically invisible with the sun behind them as it was.

“Yes?” he demanded, annoyed.

“You're needed. Get your things and come with me.” Whoever it was's voice carried a lot of authority, though Dranz didn't recognize him.

“Whatever!” Slowly he nodded and swam back upstream.

Glancing back once, he saw that the three boys were staring at him, their struggle forgotten. At least something worked.

Spoiler

Intro post

Azrael | His Home/In Town, near the Carnival | Evening - Day One:

Azrael knelt on his bed and stared up at the mirror that hung over it, frowning. When he reached up and touched it, only three souls lit up and floated towards the surface. Az scowled. “Three,” he said and jerked his hand away. “There were five yesterday.” Sighing, he shifted to sit cross-legged on the bed, staring out the window at the Town a little ways down the hill. He had lost souls again. That was bad. Az didn’t know why that was happening, and it was making him sad. He didn’t like being sad. Sad was no fun at all.

There was a carnival on later. Az had been told that, he just couldn’t remember when. He sighed again, shifting to the edge of the bed and glancing towards the mask he’d retrieved from Masquerade’s Masks earlier on in the day. The mask was was lion-themed with long, black horns curling up from where the temples would be. He’d seen it and known it was modeled after his true form, though when Masque had seen that, he didn’t know.

Az eyed the mask thoughtfully. He owed Masque a favour now, but when and what remained unknown. Humming, he stood and crossed to his wardrobe, pulling the doors open. There was a carnival on tonight and he needed something especially elegant. Az chuckled. Elegant? He meant seductive. Something elegant and seductive. That would work better.

There was an array of suits in the wardrobe--suits Az hardly ever wore--and a few pairs of jeans. He went with the dress pants. And the black dress shirt with the dark purple tie. Az smirked, picking out his white suspenders and the black, purple-coloured satin-lined jacket. He dressed quickly, picking up the mask from beside his bed and his black fedora with the crow’s feather in it from the doorknob as he left the room.

He made his way down stairs and paused by the smaller mirror in the entryway, putting on the mask and then his fedora. Az smiled at himself, flashing white teeth with a hint of fangs--a remnant of his true form and something he’d never managed to hide. He didn’t mind, though. In fact, he kind of liked the longer-than-normal canines. They definitely weren’t human. The carnival would make the humans believe it was all part of the costume, though. That was good. Az grinned at himself; perhaps he’d let them see his wings and tail tonight. Perhaps not.

Smirking, Azrael made his way down the hill a short way, spacing his club a glance as he passed it. The nightclub would be closed until later, Az decided as he left his shop behind approached the Town. He would open it after he’d spent long enough at the carnival, and if he managed to find a contractor, then good. If not, perhaps he’d find one later?

He passed Masquerade’s Masks and kept going. The carnival was in the middle town, or so he’d been told. Az wasn’t really sure where it was, so he figured he’d just wander around until he came across it and while he was wandering, he would reminisce a little. His last contractor had been a pretty young girl, and Az thought that maybe, if he wasn’t a demon, he could have loved her. He still took her soul and her life in the end. Killing them made him sad; usually, he kept them for as long as possible. Sometimes, though, they asked to die. And Azrael, ever aware of what his past contractors had looked like soulless, obliged.

She was one of the ones who’d gone missing overnight, one of those two who had vanished. From five souls to three in one night? Az exhaled, adjusting the mask on his face and turning right, towards the sound of off-tune carnival music. Her name had been Imogen and she’d been divine. Az snorted, pausing to admire himself in a nearby window. Imogen had been pretty, more so than most he’d seen, but not the prettiest. He remembered her face; the dark, flawless skin, the big amber-brown eyes, the slightly fuller than usual lips, the curve of her hips. Azrael smiled, closing his eyes.

Imogen was one of the few he actually remembered.

Suddenly, he was stumbling forwards and into the window, eyes flying open. In the mirror-like window before him, Az could see the reflection of someone; it looked like a woman, but he couldn’t be sure. Azrael slowly pushed himself away from the window and turned towards the person behind him. His hat had fallen off, Az realised and he ducked down to pick it up. He brushed himself off as he straightened, putting the fedora back on his head after he gave it a little whack. The mask had stayed on; Az smiled.

Spoiler

OOC: This could be anyone. Feel free to jump in!

Zatanna/Near the carnival/Evening, Day One

"Hello, Azrael," I said with a smile. "A lady needs an escort to attend a festival like this. Will you be mine?" My favorite demon was all dressed up in an black and purple suit. He was in his human form and looked almost like he could be my brother, with tanned skin and brown eyes like my own. The biggest difference was that my hair was a salt and pepper shade where his was brown like his eyes.

The tension in his body loosened slightly. Nobody but I would notice it; I learned about the meaning of body language from a monk in exchange for giving him a way to repair the manuscript he ruined.

"Zatanna, how good to see you!" he purred. "And may I say how lovely your golden ensemble is?"

"Am I to take that like other questions?" From the look on his face, I knew he understood my little joke. "No price for this one. You may." I curtsied. The farce we played was fun, I must admit.

He was grinning almost as widely as I was. "Shall we leave, then? No, I know better than to ask you a question. We shall leave for the festival."

He hooked his arm in mine. "You're learning."
~*~
The festival was just beginning when we arrived. Children both demon and human ran through the streets giggling. Men and women set up stalls marketing their wares, and somewhere not too far away a dance tune played. The feast to conclude the festivities would be held in the town hall at midnight.

Azrael released my arm. "Shall we hunt for those willing to lose their souls?"

Smirking, I said, "Souls take second place for me. I hunt for knowledge, and at a festival, tongues are easily loosened by drink!"

Spoiler

ScarlettFire, tell me if I made Azrael at all out of charecter, and I'll edit this post.

Maita Aoife Laois | Carnaval | Day 1

This... was not a good idea. I'm going to have a nervous breakdown before I actually manage to do anything. I could sense at least one deamon in true form and every so often, the crawlers returned. It was tiring. The closest I had come to just running away from the carnival was when I had seen a joker juggling. I hadn't stayed around long enough to even try and see who it was, turning on my heel and leaving that small area. I hadn't been sure that I would be able to stay there without dropping my act of a girl who was new to the town.
I had escaped to the quieter places of the carnival and was looking for a place to sit. I needed to calm down before I blew my cover. I wanted to hit something, release my tension. Glancing around for a bench that was free, I found one that only had two people on it and sighed. Then I recognised one of them as the girl from earlier and hesitated. You can get informtion from her. I went and flopped down next to her.
"Cleo, wasn't it? You having fun?"
She gave me a strange look, and smiled a bit. "I guess I am. And you?" I should be...
"I am, yes. It's very lively and colorful." I smiled back at her. "Does the carnival happen every year?"

"This is the first one," she replied. "I guess that's part of the reason why everyone is so excited."

"Oh? Well, it's a nice way to get to know people. Mr Silver made a good decision." The bad one was probably to let humans in.

"He tends to make good decisions," she muttered. "I'm glad you like it."

"Is he a relation of yours?" Can I use your relationship?

"I'm his daughter," she grinned a bit. Yes, I can. So you're a deamon then. This gets better and better.

"It must be hard on you, him being the Mayor an' all." So very hard. I fiddled with my hair to relieve a bit of my stress. It was in a side pony-tail that hid my family tattoo.

She shrugged. "He's just Dad to me." How sweet...not.

"He seems very protective of you." Which I can exploit.

Her eyes narrowed a bit. "He cares. I'm the only one he has." That's nice to know.

"At least you have someone," I sighed before standing up, dusting the lint off of my dress. "It was nice speaking to you, Cleo."I learnt some useful things, I did. "The night is still young, and we should both enjoy ourselves more than we seem to be doing at the moment. Maybe I'll hook someone." I winked at her. "See you around."

She caught my wrist as I got up, stopping me from leaving. Calm. Don't freak. "Wait. You mean, you're all alone here?"

"I've been alone for a long time. You get used to it." My words sounded sad and lonely, but my thoughts were bitter. And it's all because of deamons, one deamon in particular.

" ...Why are you alone?" I sighed. Time to test the cover story. I sat back down on the bench next to her.

"My parents died when I was... about three years younger than you in a car crash." They were murdered. "Some relatives took me in, but I didn't feel at home. So I started travelling, and I've just never settled down. Maybe here will be the right place?" I smiled at her.

She sighed. "I hope it works out for you. Dad and I thought the same thing." Oh? What's happening here that made you think the same thing?

"You don't like it here?"

"I do.. Just, there's no one quite my age around, and I'm not a very good people's person - I have troubles bonding with others." Opening.

"Well, I don't have any friends yet, so we could be friends, if you want." It's worth a try. Her eyes narrowed at me, but the smile still danced on her lips.

"It's because my dad is the mayor, isn't it?" Definitely.

"I just want to be friends with the charming young girl called Cleo, not her father."

"Really now..? Alright then." She offered me her hand, looking all sugar and spice. Pretend she's just a normal kid, like the sibling you could've had. That thought didn't help me calm down, but I took her hand anyway, and stood up with her. "Do I get to find out more about you, then?"

I chuckled. "There isn't that much to tell that you haven't heard. My life was basically summed up in those three sentences."

"That's hardly true. There is always more to people than a bit of their past." I smiled slightly, forgetting for an instant that she was a deamon, even if she seemed wiser than most fourteen year olds. I stepped forwards, maybe faster than she was used to, since she dropped behind a little.

Spoiler

Take it from there, Awi. You know the main points of what is going to happen to her, but don't go on a rampage either, please ^^See you all on a few weeks!

Her dress: http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/img-thing?. ... d=53788560
Her mask: http://www.samanthapeach.co.uk/blog/upl ... 763564.jpg
Because I wanted to show you ^^