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Sat Aug 09, 2014 2:44 am
Lumi says...



Image

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The 3-0-7-3 exists to preserve the well being of the international public. From across the world, our agents receive reports of the supernatural and, in response, investigate before destruction roots into the earth. It is our sworn duty to track down the agents of darkness and end them without hesitation. Those who know of our deeds call our operatives Demon Hunters.

You are an associate of the 3-0-7-3. Whether you are a hunter, analyst, investigative agent, or a loved one of an operative, you have found yourself in the midst of events that will determine the course of history.

Each mission carried out by our agents betters the present and future of humanity. As such, it is our firm belief that the past should remain the past, and that man should never look back. Agents wield their weapons, investigative skills, cunning, and fighting prowess to curtail demonic activity before civilians may suffer.

OOC Info
You are an agent of the 3-0-7-3 in whatever capacity you choose. For the preliminary roles, three main field agents should be taken. One or two field/base analysts are needed as well. Beyond that, the cast could be entirely NPC--or driven by you when they're in the scene.

The majority of this storybook will take place in short stints of self-contained plot in the form of Agent Assignments (Missions). There will ultimately be a larger thing going on, but there's no need to rush it. I don't even have anything planned! =P

The agency is located in an unnamed location in America, though the individual missions will take our cast to locales across the world. Your character may be any nationality or ethnicity you choose. For this storybook, there are no villain roles needed. The enemies will all be NPCs.

Characters
Field Agents
♦ Kite Collins, played by @Lumi
♦ Jenson White, played by @Blackwood
♦ Demhara Illyria, played by @Shadowlight
♦ Grae Newbold, played by @dragonthief1
♦ Hadrian Illyria, played by @Shadowlight

Field Analysts
♦ Brian Thorne, played by @Judas

Lighter Dose Characters / Home Base Bodies
♦ @Rosey%20Unicorn
♦ Tabitha Ayala, played by @Auxiira
♦ Dr. Sophie Mackenzie, played by @StellaThomas

Template
Code: Select all
[size=200][b][small-caps]Name Here[/small-caps][/b][/size]

[b]Age:[/b] 18-40
[b]Role:[/b] Field Agent, Field Analyst, Base Analyst, etc.
[b]Trope(s):[/b] Use tvtropes.org if needed, or ask Lumi for help. Warning: you may or may not forfeit your soul in clicking.

[size=150][b]Appearance & Habits[/b][/size]
Example: L has shaggy black hair & bags under his eyes. He sits like a confused toddler in order to enhance his deductive power. Constantly eats sweets.

[size=150][b]Personality & Behavior[/b][/size]
Example: Matoi Ryuuko is quick to anger, valiant when her loved ones are endangered, and quick to fight...really for anything that rubs her the wrong way. She has a habit of cutting first, asking questions second.

[size=150][b]Useful Skills & Weapons of Choice[/b][/size]
Example: Tsubaki is skilled in stealth, alert hearing, almost a sixth sense type of silent awareness of surroundings.

[size=150][b]Professional Weaknesses[/b][/size]
Example: Armin, while a skilled tactician, lacks physical power and agility, leaving him vulnerable to attack...and even moreso to the embarrassment of being rescued. This stirs up severe self-confidence issues.


Missions & Table of Contents
1. Black Ice
--As punishment for recent mission failure due to Kite's hotheadedness, Director Grimm sends the squad to a haunted city caught in a blizzard that's lasted for weeks without the least bit of give. The catch? The blizzard covering the area has effects on the mind as well as the body, thus the squad must fight against time as well as the responsible demons.
2.
3.
4.
5.

Patch Notes
♦ Created 8/8
I am a forest fire and an ocean, and I will burn you just as much
as I will drown everything you have inside.
-Shinji Moon


I am the property of Rydia, please return me to her ship.





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Mon Aug 18, 2014 12:46 am
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Lumi says...



EPISODE 1

Oh, Hell



"We've lost communications."

Jenson dropped his bluetooth into a pocket and swung his gun to eye-level, pressing his back to Kite. "Good, Jenson."

"How is that good? There is no scenario where losing outside contact would be a good thing."

"You're right." Kite shuffled to the left, keeping his back against his partner as they circled down the most poorly-lit hallway in espionage history.

"I'm right?" He sounded shocked. Amazed that he'd scored a point.

"Of course not," spat Kite. "It's only natural to communicate only with the people close enough to hear you." A door clicked at the end of the hall. Kite raised his gun and shot the knob off and the two partners ran to check for the target. Staring into an empty room, Kite sighed, lowered his gun, and cracked his neck. "The people you can protect."

Jenson rolled his eyes away. "Remind me to send you a fruit basket." A click. Metal rolling on the floor.

"BOMB!" Kite tackled Jenson into the stairwell to their left, and, as the two rolled down the stairs in tangled limbs and weapons, an explosion rocked the floor above. The lights in the stairwell flickered. Kite felt his forehead with the back of his hand and groaned when he came up with sticky, hot--

"It's not blood," Jenson moaned, "your big head smashed my Teriyaki."

Kite deflated, relieved, and licked at the goo on his arm...and cringed. "Fucking lying fuck! It'sbloodit'sbloodit'sblood!"

"Disgust coming from the man who eats everything."

"There are limits, Cyclops." Kite punched his partner in the arm as he wrestled to a sitting position. "Why the shades inside? It's so dark, it's like--"

"Sh," Jenson cut, "not shades. Night vision shades."

Kite leered. "So shades."

Jenson shrugged. "Adidas and Reebok."

"This sucks." Kite tore a strip of cloth from his shirt and wrapped it around his forehead as a bandage. "Call Demi and Sparta and let's call it a night."

Jenson slowly turned his head to stare at Kite, expression unmoving.

Kite blinked. "You've...already tried that, haven't you."

Jenson slowly nodded.

"And communications went down, didn't they."

Again with the nodding.

Kite ruffled through his hair. "I should lay off the teriyaki."

Jenson jerked his head to the right and up, to the stairs leading above. He held a finger to his lips and the two men drew their guns and crept to their feet. Kite held up three fingers.

Two.

One.

DON'TFREEZEMOVEDEMONSCUMBAG

_______________________


"Three days. Three motherlovin' days you four spent chasing that Class-D Demon around Beaufort, and your two backup agents nab him after five minutes in the field."

Director Grimm dropped a stack of reports onto his desk, staring across at Kite, Jenson, Brian, and Demhara. Grae and Hadrian stood in the back, looking smug and anxious, respectively.

"Collins and White I understand, but you, Demhara? The 3-0-7-3's very own tigress gets in a shoot-out with her own motherlovin' allies. It's shameful." He sighed. "Newbold and Knox, you're dismissed. The rest of you, stay."

Grimm got up from his chair and stretched, arms raising to show pit stains courtesy of the faulty air conditioner in the offices. "Collins, your report says that you and White were bombed when you had the target cornered, yet when Newbold and Knox apprehended him, he had no explosives on him, nor devices inclined for detonation." He put a hand on his desk. "Someone explain this beautiful conundrum to me."

Brian looked at his teammates and sighed. "Based on the evidence we gathered in Beaufort, it's pretty obvious that there were two demons."

"Two demons," repeated Grimm. "In the immortal words of Glinda The Good Fuckin' Witch, if we work in tandem, there's no fight we can't win." He caught the four stares coming back to him and realized he'd sung the last part.

"Yeah, Director," said Demhara, "two tandem demons. Crossed Stars. We happened to grab one of the stars, so who's to say the second won't...come crossing our way?"

Everyone but Kite turned to look at Demi. Kite pointed up at her. "Shakespeare is right, Glinda. We didn't kill that demon. He's in our facilities. There's no way his flamin' sweetheart won't come after him."

Demi nodded.

"Good points. And I'll be sure to pass that news on to the two handling this case now, along with all the reward money."

Kite slammed the desk. Demi instinctively reached for her gun in rage, but stopped as she realized where she was. "There's no way we're letting three days of work go in the toilet! It's our toilet!"

Demi sneered. "I spent half a week following this gunslinging lunatic around South Carolina and you cut my check?!" She sighed. "Director, you have to ask yourself whether the threat is out there or in here."

Grimm shook his head. "If you two drama queens are done with your tantrums, I'll give you your replacement mission. A mission that formerly belonged to Knox and Newbold."

Kite, Jenson, Demi, and Brian blinked in unison as The Director dropped four fur coats onto his desk.
Last edited by Lumi on Wed Sep 17, 2014 10:53 pm, edited 2 times in total.
I am a forest fire and an ocean, and I will burn you just as much
as I will drown everything you have inside.
-Shinji Moon


I am the property of Rydia, please return me to her ship.





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Mon Aug 18, 2014 2:45 am
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Caesar says...



Brian | Cold



The countryside was tranquil.

Snow fell thick and fast, muting the sounds of nature. There were no birds, and no wind. The trees seemed to huddle together, shying away from the crushing weight. Their fragile limbs were strewn all around, but the snow would eventually bury those, too.

*

"THE TRUCK HAS THREE SETS OF WHEELS, JENSON. I INVITE YOU TO USE THEM."

"I only have one set of ears, Brian, and you're seriously threatening their health," the driver spat back. He did his best to control the skidding vehicle, knuckles white on the wheel.

"Oh man, I'm digging the music though." Kite placed his feet on the dashboard in front of him, as if he lacked a care in the world. He turned up the volume further, not that it improved the quality of the blaring rock.

"It's so coooooold." Demhara's face was apparently trying to summon a thunderstorm.

The truck lurched around a grove sharply, balancing on a side for a few gut-wrenching moments. The abrupt movement catapulted Kite to the side, smashing him into Brian, whose breath left him with a violent ‘oomph’. He, in turn, bumped into Jenson. The truck groaned in protest.

“What brand deodorant do you use?” Kite asked once extricated. He rubbed his face, grimacing. “I like it.”

Demhara broke into a fit of shivering. Her teeth chattered, and she blew into her hands. “The heating is busted. The heating is busted. Not only I’m stuck with you bozos, but the heating is busted. Could this get worse?”

Jenson inhaled shakily. “We could be outside,” he muttered. “Sure, we’re in a godawful truck with no godawful heating and this godawful music,” his hand shot out and turned off the radio, “but at least we’re not outside.”

*

Outside, a family of squirrels watched from the relative comfort of a hollow inside a tree. Ears twitching, they observed the monster of steel and noise approach them, charging through the snow. They observed it as it dipped into a ditch. They heard the high-pitched scream from within, watched the truck slip on ice, and saw it flip over majestically. It sputtered loudly, then died. For a while, the quiet ruled again. The squirrels returned to their alcove, probably thinking about acorns, or something.

*

“You totally called it, bro.” Kite lit a cigarette.

“Guys,” Brian called, from the other side of the wreckage. “Get over here. The ice is black.”

The four huddled together, following the man’s extended arm. It was difficult to notice, mixed in with the snow and the dirt, but there was something about the light – its absence – that confirmed what Brian had said. Jenson pushed some snow aside with his foot, and knelt forward.

“Why is the ice black?”

“Well, Sherlock,” Brian answered, at this point not able to contain his contempt, “I’m thinking it might have to do something with the whole reason we’re here. Like maybe I don’t know, demons? Black ice is a pretty solid lead, don’t you think?!”

“Sorry,” Jenson muttered, looking away.

“How about you stop bitching,” Kite said, a touch of impatience in his voice, “and we start getting a move on?”

“Come now, children,” Demhara chided. “It’s far too cold to be bickering in such a way. For once, Kite has said something intelligent. We should get a move on. Walking might make us freeze to death less quickly, too.”

As they walked, the landscape changed with alarming speed. The trees became more skeletal and less clustered, and yet Brian could swear there were more shadows than what physics allowed. The snow, too, became less thick, revealing an endless expanse of black ice. It did not glitter, but it devoured light hungrily.

In the distance, the tall silhouettes loomed. Buildings, probably. A town. Their destination. It seemed so far away. Maybe Demhara was right, they would freeze to death before setting foot anywhere civilized. He tried formulating plans. They wouldn’t last the night. There was no shelter, either. Of course there wasn’t. What was the Director thinking? They were under prepared and lacking in resources. It was cold, so cold, and the city was still so far off. This is not how things should be done. There was no art or inspiration to it. They’d freeze to death like dogs, and he was helpless.

As quickly as he had thought that, the city was there. Right in front of them. It was snowy, dilapidated, and surrounded by wrought iron gates. Oh boy. Brian grinned. This, he thought, is the part where something emerges from the shadows and eats my face.

“Nothing for it. We’ve gotta head in there. Better than staying out here, that’s for sure.”
vulgus vult decipi, ergo decipiatur







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Mon Aug 18, 2014 4:54 pm
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StellaThomas says...



Sophie - Overly tired at work


"Oh and Sophie-" Dr Darzi spun a full one hundred and eighty degrees to face her, dark hair swinging behind her like an advertisement for shampoo, "did you ever get that patient in Bed 4 his IV?"

"No-no, not yet," Sophie said, struggling not to yawn.

"Well do that and then go take a nap. You look like you need it."

Sophie grabbed an IV tray and hunted for a tourniquet. "Rough night?" one of the nurses smirked.

"I was on call," Sophie said, totally deadpan. "Four different mission teams arrived in, all with casualties."

She went onto the ward and found the patient in Bed Four sitting up and reading one of the medicentre'a dog eared copies of Hello magazine.

"Gotta give you this," she said, holding up the IV tray. "Let's have a look at that leg."

He grumbled at being torn away from the news of Kate Middleton's new LK Bennett shoes and ripped the blanket off his left leg, which had a very nasty looking festering wound. It was red and swollen and oozing black pus.

It was lucky Sophie wasn't hungover.

She sat down next to him and snapped a tourniquet around his arm. "Anything interesting happen on base? I hear Collins failed a mission."

"Not failed I don't think. His back ups finished it up nicely."
"Knox?" the patient asked. Sophie blushed and nodded, tearing an alcohol swab open with her teeth and wiping it over his vein.

Outside there was some commotion. "Look we've reported- there's nothing wrong with us - we need to get back to work."

"You're gonna have to wait 'til Dr Mackenzie gives you the all clear."

Grae. Sophie gritted her teeth.

Sophie jammed the IV into the vein and pulled the needle out, strapping it down. She caught sight of a nurse. "Give him 2 mls anti-ichorite stat and 500mgs Fluclox over the next four hours," she said. "Don't dress the wound yet, I need to keep an eye on it."

Without looking at the agent she drifted off into the corridor where Grae and Hadrian were waiting.

"Where's the rest of your team?" she asked.

"The director kept them behind. Look, we're fine," Grae said, but Sophie opened the door to an examination room and stared Grae down until she stormed inside.

Hadrian followed. Sophie attempted a smile but he just stared really intensely at her until she let him pass.

"You're okay with being seen together?" she checked, grabbing forms and scribbling their names down.

Grae nodded and Hadrian said nothing so Sophie did the unthinkable and assumed consent. It had been a long day.

"Did you incur any injuries?"

"No," they said in unison.

"Come into contact with any demonic fluids?"

"No," they both repeated again, looking intensely bored.

"No blood or ichor?"

"No."

"Did you have any falls or trips that may have caused an injury?"

"No."

"Did you witness any of your teammates incur an injury?"

"No."

She knew that last one was probably a lie. Jenson and Collins had probably slipped up. As usual. But she bit her lip and said nothing, and took her stethoscope to do a chest and abdo exam on both of them.

Damn, did that boy have nice abs.

"Can you speed it up please?" Grae demanded. "We have a demon to see to."

Sophie popped her Littman's out her ears in surprise. "You didn't kill it?"

"It's in custody, and we need to question it. So, you know..." She made a 'hurry up' motion with her hands.

Sophie wondered if she was like that in bed as well.

"Okay, I'm giving you, both of you," she added, sneaking a look at Hadrian as he pulled his shirt back on, "the all-clear. If you have any concerns or queries-"

"Yeah yeah." Grae slid off the bench and grabbed the form from Sophie's hands, "thanks a lot, Goldie. Come on Hadrian."

She sashayed off into the distance. Sophie attempted another smile at Hadrian. "I guess... I'll see you around."

"I suppose so. We both live on base."

Abruptly he turned and stalked after Grae. Sophie watched them leave, totally bewildered.

Then she remembered there was a demon downstairs.

She whipped her phone out and made a call.

"Hey Tabs," she said when it was picked up. "Want to go on an expedition?"
"Stella. You were in my dream the other night. And everyone called you Princess." -Lauren2010





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Shadowlight says...



Spoiler! :
Just like to remind everyone I have dyslexia


Demhara/ wearing a knock off Ermin fur coat and not happy about it at all.


Demhara breathed the chilled hair, each exhale leaving a cloud of tiny frost particles trailing in her wake like the eddy's behind a ship. Her boots crunched in the frozen snow, each footfall, and those of her companions echoed more loudly then normal, or so it seemed in this derelict empty place. Even their breathing seemed loud to Demhara, she glanced around- shivering.
“Somethings not right....” She said- sharp eyes darting about.
“Oh? Do tell.” Brain said from somewhere behind and to her left.
“No, I mean something isn't right, about all this- this is- I've been to Chernobyl. This is even more quiet then that.... even in winter there were animal noises- this place is utterly-”
“Dead.” Kite spoke up- suddenly standing beside her, she glanced up.
“Finishing my sentences now?” He grinned his lopsided boyish grin and started to put a arm about her shoulders, “Touch me and you lose a Testicle.” He shied away with understandable swiftness
“Jesus, what's got you all put out?” Demhara looked up, raising a brow.
“Where do you want me to start?”
“Hey- we're going to find somewhere to set up camp for the night.” Jenson stepped between, hands up trying to make peace, “we're going to freeze otherwise...”
“And who's fault might /that/ be?” Demhara said- her voice full of venom, Kite turned to face her- hands shoved in his coat pockets- Demhara personally thought he looked utterly asinine wearing fur, or in this case- cheap fake fur,
“Okay- lets have it out- come on, I'm a big boy I can take it.”
“'jeez, I'd love to be your best man, guys, ” Brian cut in “ but we're on the verge of freezing to deth- if you two could leave your couples quarrel until tomorrow?”
“....As if I would ever date him.” Demaha flipped her head coquettishly and walked away- hips swinging in her most indignant and sultry way.
"Bitch." she head someone mutter behind her but she couldn't have cared less even if she tried- she was a woman in a man's world and if they thought she was a bitch - so much the better. Bitches didn't die out here, bitches got taken seriously, bitches don't take shit from anyone.
something moving out of the tail end of her eye caught her attention and before anyone could react Kite pulled both guns and fired.
"Take cover!" he shouted at his three coworkers , as something whizzed by his ear and buried itself in a snowbank with a cloud of fresh powder,
"Christ almighty! what the hell?!" Jenson shouted,
"Kite for gods sake think before you fire this is what happened last time.... and now we're here."
"Like he will ever listen." Demhara said grinning at Brian, as she went towards the snowbank- something black and greasy was dribbling out of it- smelling horribly and looking rather toxic.
"I saw it- it was in that building there!" Kite cried looking back at them, "I swear it was."
"We're not arguing that," Demhara cut in, facing him-hands on her hips, "but don't you think before we go in guns blazing it might be a smart thing to actually try and figure out what we're up against before drawing so much attention? honestly you might have just said "kill me I'm standing right here" as well as not."
"D*** the torpedoes! Four bells! Full speed ahead!"~ Admiral David Farragut





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Blackwood says...



Jenson| Not Cold.



The black glob of slime had burrowed its way through the snow, wiggling beneath the foundations of the dilapidated building. In it’s wake it had left a fine trail of black ink- be it something its skin secreted or it’s own blood- who knows. But whatever if it was, it had for sure been coughed up from one hell or another.

The team had barely managed to get past the iron gates when Kite had let off his bullets. It was utterly like him, and for the love of life or death who knew how he had managed to jab himself the role of leader. Though being the head of this mission in particular wasn’t something to be proud of considering they needed to eradicate some vermin worm.

Jenson shaded his eyes from the glare of the snow, despite the fact that he was wearing shades. They weren’t very effective ones today; big rimmed and pale pink lenses. As long as the plastic was coloured, it didn’t really matter if they kept out the light or not.

Demhara was having fun snapping at Kite while Brian was grinning at the scene, head back in his hands, looking ready to snark something for his own amusement. Jens rolled his eyes.

“With the way you two are carrying on lets hope that worm decides to take you out for dinner.” Brian chuckled to himself. “Menu: Bickering couple.”

“I already told you. We’re not a couple!” Demhara snapped back.

Jens tapped his chin. “Brian has a point. Demons are not susceptible to cold. They can barely feel it. We don’t want to give them an unnecessary advantage."

“Who says that?” Demhara challenged. “I’d rather fight in the open than be surprised around a corner. What proof do you have that whatever that thing was won’t freeze just as easily as us?”

“Because hell is cold.” Jens muttered sarcastically.

“He is the demon historian” Brian snarked, receiving a brief glare from Demi, who then decided not to fight and and let her face settle back to it’s composed manner.

“Hah!” Kite laughed, eyeing the door. “That place looks like trouble. After you.”

Jens didn’t fiddle with a reply. He adjusted the gun on his shoulder and trundled through the last stretch of snow before reaching the steps up to the blank steel door. He tried the handle. Locked.

“I’ve got this!” Kite huffed, taking a run up. He hurtled up the stairs as fast as his cold legs could carry him, jumping in the air and ramming into the door. The steel didn’t budge, and Kite ricocheted off, tumbling back down and landing face first in the snow.

Brian laughed and Jens covered a smile. Demhara elegantly stepped over the squirming man and looked up toward the musty glass windows on the side of the building.

“Someone give me a boost, I think I can break it.” She instructed. Kite was up faster than he had fallen down, eager to get a grip on the woman wherever he could.

Demi was hoisted up and used her elbow to crack the glass, three more hits and she was through, picking the shards from the frame of the window so she could safely crawl inside.

“Can you see if the door could be opened from the inside?” Jens called out.

“Whatever.” Came the distant reply. “You didn’t have to tell me to do that, I’m not stupid.”

Jenson flushed briefly, then grabbed Kite by the arm, dragging him back toward the steel door which had defeated him moments ago. It clicked and Brian dragged at it as it scraped harshly against the concrete ground, opening it far enough to slip in.

“Hold my guns” Kite said, flicking out the lumps from their holsters into Jenson’s hands. “It’s a tight squeeze, I don’t want those babies to be damaged now.”

“You’re freezing. Get some of the hand warmers in-”

“Left those in the truck. Too late now. Hand me ‘em guns.”

Jens passed the weapons through the door, checking his back one last time before he squeezed in after the rest. It would be best if nothing followed them in. There was nothing worse than being attacked by a demon from behind.

He dragged the door shut and turned to his team mates, who were searching around the interior with torches.

“Light switch!” Brian exclaimed, flicking what he had found. The cavernous space lit up brightly, accompanied by the thin hum of machinery warming in the background.The four of the gaped at the sight that lay before them. What had once been the main hall of some kind of facility, had now been filled up with layer upon layer of demonic egg sacks.
Hahah....haha.....ahahaha.





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Lumi says...



Kite covered his mouth and nose and turned his eyes away. "Say, Brian. You're always wanting to get the scoop on the dirty squirty. Howsabout you tell us what these things are."

Demhara's mouth twisted in disgust. "They look like something you'd find in Kite's gym locker."

Everyone, including Kite, nodded.

"You can all climb down from the walls, ladies. They're eggs." Brian adjusted his glasses and nudged one with a gloved hand. Whatever was inside rattled and flashed a bloom of purple light before settling back into its sleep. "Rattling...I didn't expect the rattling."

"Great," Kite whispered to Jenson, "he's a baby now." Kite raised his voice. "We Don't Have Time For Rattlers, Brian."

The bald man swept to his feet and slapped his goo-covered gloved hand onto Kite's mouth, eyes furious. He kept his voice to a sharp-as-hell whisper. "We are in a den of demon eggs. Where do you think the mother is?"

Kite's eyes went wide; as did Demi's and Jenson's. Slowly, they each turned their heads skyward, where Jenson aimed his flashlight. A hiss and a rattle shook the entire room as a supernaturally large spider web stirred. The center spread apart, and with a billow of purple gas, a woman descended, bare feet touching the ground like feathers.

She had purple and black skin, wicked yellow eyes, and a mane of tangled black hair licking at her ankles.

Brian adjusted his glasses once more. "How long have you plagued this place with your spawn, demon?"

Her neck turned, cracking for several seconds. She didn't reply, but made jittering clicks with her teeth and tongue. Kite's eyes narrowed. If she'd forgotten how to speak in a human tongue, she could've been isolated in this town for decades. Centuries, even. Why hadn't their scouts picked up on it before now?

The demon clicked again, turning her neck the other way and cracking it, again, for several seconds. She clattered, but stopped as her muscles registered a familiar phrase. "S-se-ce--" She stopped turning her neck side to side and popped her jaw. "Ce qui est de l'année?" Her lips pouted as her skin began to change, taking the body of a woman, bare-breasted and pale from the cold. Kite lowered his weapon instinctively.

"Cool it, Kite," cut Jens, "she's regressing."

Brian nodded. "She spoke in French. This area of the north hasn't had French as a native tongue since..." Brian tapped his head with his flashlight. "I can't remember the date."

The demon groaned as she stretched her tired joints. Periodically, Kite's jaw would drop--and Demi would smack it back into place.

"Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas, mon chéri? Vous parlez pas français?"

Brian paused, gaining his composure. "No, demon. I don't speak French."

The woman poked her lips with a long-nailed finger and smiled. Then, in Brian's voice, she responded: "This language is so much less interesting...but it has so many stolen words!"

Kite nearly cried. Such a beautiful woman! Her skin, her eyes, her boobs! But that voice! She may as well have smeared manure on her face.

It was a moment before Kite realized he'd said all of this aloud. Brian cleared his throat and returned to his earlier question. "How long have you been breeding in this town?"

The woman tapped her lips several times in thought. "I would say...eighteen. Fourteen?"

Brian made a face. "Years?"

"No, dumbass." She groaned. "I've been here since 1814."

Demi cocked an eyebrow, then her gun. "As much fun as it's been to watch Brian talk to himself, I'd rather one of you be dead."

The demon raised her hands. "Would you really shoot an unarmed woman?"

Everyone stifled laughter. A vein throbbed on Demi's forehead. "I would shoot an unarmed baby if it was a demon."

The demon groaned. "What a bitch! You're no fun if you don't buy into head games!"

Demi unloaded six shots into the demon's chest, blowing her breasts to smithereens. Kite nearly cried. The demon blew back and forth with each shot, but never fell down. She slowly regained her composure and cracked her neck. "Head games are my thing."

"Then I will happily change my tactics." The demon winked. "Only for you, cutie." The woman plucked a hair from her head and blew into it. It began to glow a bright purple before shattering into thousands of fragments, dispersed through the room into each egg. The demon grinned. "We'll play a war game instead!"

She slammed her head into the concrete floor. Her skull burst open and her body began to writhe, grow, and sprout new limbs. She roared and screeched as her body destroyed itself, replaced by a towering black-and-purple spider demon. The agents drew their weapons, but the demon tore a hole through the tin roof with one sweep of a claw, pulling herself out of the room.

"Goddammit, Demhara," shouted Brian. "We could have trapped her if you hadn't run your goddamn--" He froze. Brian never froze. Never stopped talking for anyone. "Did you hear that?" He backed up, coming shoulder-to-shoulder with Jenson. "The rattling."

Hissing.

Jenson fumbled across his belt for Tab's newest addition to their arsenal: Incendiary Bullets.

Rustling.

Kite drew his second gun and dropped his coat for mobility.

Cracking shells.

Demhara pinned up her hair.

It finally clicked with Brian. "What's a war game without an army?"
I am a forest fire and an ocean, and I will burn you just as much
as I will drown everything you have inside.
-Shinji Moon


I am the property of Rydia, please return me to her ship.





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Auxiira says...



Tabitha - overly caffeinated

The ringing of her cellphone startled Tabitha out of her book trance. Peering at it through her glasses, she smiled at Sophie's name and picked it up.

"Hey Tabs. Want to go on an expedition?" Her voice echoed down the line excitedly, but she also sounded tired.

Tabitha set the book down and took a gulp of the nearby coffee. "Hey Soph!" she gushed. "Did you know that there really is such a thing as demon fever? The person gains demonic properties and-" She bit her lip to cut herself short. "Sorry. Expedition? Where to?"

"Collins' travesty of a team actually managed to complete their mission without losing any limbs, and they put the demon in custody." A note of elation crept into Sophie's voice. "Want to come and see it?"

"You mean I'm sitting in the same building as one of the beings I study?" She stubled to her feet, grabbing her satchel and starting to pile papers and charms into it. Her glasses slid down her nose. "Just tell me where you are and I'll meet you."

"Okay, I've got a couple of reports to file and - God, there's that nurse from last week, I'm going to go round the other way - okay. I need to file these and then get some... Stuff together. So I should be ready in ten minutes or so. I'll meet you outside the medical centre?"

"Sure! I have some things to get as well. Hope you don't run into that nurse again," she chuckled, grabbing a charm bracelet from a shelf. "See you!" She waited for Sophie to echo her before hanging up.

__

Ten minutes later, she sat on the wall in front of the medical centre, tapping her fingers on the back of her hand nervously. No one had stopped to talk to her yet, but she was sure that it was only a matter of time and she did not, under any circumstances, want to talk to anyone that wasn't Sophie right that moment.

"Sorry I'm late," Sophie said, rushing out of the sliding doors, shouldering a very full and battered leather bag. "I had to do last minute discharge notes for Mama. You good to go?"

"Very." She slung her satchel accross her shoulders and stood up. "There are a lot of people today... or is it just me?"

"It's busy. Last night I had four returning teams. It was hell." Sophie paused and reconsidered her words. "Well, not HELL hell. Just... Hellish. And because of this," she grabbed Tabitha's coffee and took a swig. "I needed that. Okay. Let's go down to the holding cells, I guess."

Tabitha grinned, starting towards the main building. "So, are we even cleared to go down there? Or are we being sneaky? Cause if so, I have this sweet charm that would be brilliant for making anyone think that we weren't even down there."

"Knew there was a reason I invited you along. Hey, can I use that charm to sneak out of houses the morning after?" She caught sight of Tabitha's face. "Neeeever mind."

"Just... no. You get out of your own messes, I've already said. I can help you get into them though."

"Like right now." Sophie grinned.

"Like right now." She nodded. "So, what's in the bag?"

"A few syringes, needles, blood vials, few swabs... I want samples. I've tried to convince Dr Darzi we need to do more research to understand the injuries we treat but..." She shrugged. "Why? What's in yours?"

"Charms, spells, the normal. Some things that could be of use, and that I want to test. And, um..." She opened the front flap and gestured to the pistol inside. "Ballistics. Just in case."

Sophie winced at the sight of the gun. "Do you know how to shoot that thing?"

"Not at all." She dropped the flap again, hiding the gun. "But hopefully, I can bluff extremely well. Kite's been trying to get me to learn. Frankly, I prefer my spells. The bottle spells are going to be so awesome when they're done, seriously, it'll make the risk of time so much smaller!"

"Really?!" Sophie said, echoing Tabitha's own tone of voice.

"Yeah!" She started rooting through her bag, pulling out one of the little stopper bottles. "See? Everything's inside, so you don't have to spend time finding it, and then the incantation is written out phonetically, so that even someone who can't actually speak it can cast the spell! Then just pull the stopper, which sparks it, and flash bam, instant spell!" She gestured with her hands, banging Sophie in the face. "Oopsie. I'm sorry, Soph."

"It's okay!" Sophie said, rubbing her cheekbone. "Okay, here we are," she said, looking at the floor directory inside the main reception. "Prison, prison, prison... It's on Level -4."

"Cause just one floor underground is way too mainstream," Tabitha grumbled. "Stairs or elevator? In other words, do we want exercise or not? I'd say not."

Sophie gave a long fake laugh, then became totally deadpan and said, "Elevator."

"Brilliant." Tabitha grinned before stepping forwards and hitting the button for the elevator. "We're just chancing this, are we?"

"Completely."

"Okay. Let's go face the beastie." The elevator dinged as the doors opened, and they stepped in.
You read faster than Usaine Bolt sprints xD - Deanie 2014

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Caesar says...



Brian | so many squishy things to squash it’s like giving jelly to a baby

Brian drew his rapier.

“Alright, here’s the plan.” As he spoke, his eyes darted to his surroundings. The eggs were everywhere. The ground was littered with cracked membranes and dripping with slime. Everywhere he turned, spiderlings rose from the ground, limbs jittering. His breath puffed in front of him. It was cold. The enemy didn’t seem to be affected. There were four of them, and hundreds of enemies. But only one broodmother.

“We’re going to hightail up those stairs and then up the roof again,” Brian said. “I’m thinking if we take the head out, the body will go limp also.” He moved up the stairs.

The first wave of demons met them. Kite and Jenson were back to back, keeping the spawn at bay. Demhara and Kite weaved between the arms and bullets, cutting down those that got too close. Black blood shot into the air and sprayed all over them. In a few seconds, they were at the stairs already.

“The body is so nice though,” Kite said, almost mournfully.

“Don’t worry Kite,” Brian said, “it’s not rape if they’re dead.” There was an atrocious screech of metal as a demon threw itself at them from below, punching through the walkway. Brian rolled forward and came up slicing as Demhara kicked it.

“Brian, duck,” Jenson called out.

Brian bent down and plunged his blade into the first purple hairy thing he saw. A bullet took the next demon’s head off.

The air was heavy. There was something about the blood that clung to his arms and legs. It felt viscous, alien, somehow wrong. It assaulted his mind like strong spices at those bad Indian restaurants Sophie enjoyed. At the same time, the biting cold pierced him like a spear. It was a singular experience, and one he’d have rather avoided.

A few more rounds of cannon-fodder and they had reached a room. It was quiet. The walls were lined with the same egg-sacs as before, unbroken. Shadows stirred beneath them.

“Nope,” Demhara spat, kicking one. She withdrew her leg and grimaced as it came up black-green. “Nope” – kick – “Nope” – kick – “Nope!”

Not wanting to seem less of a sport, Kite shot some, too.

“The broodmother awaits,” Jenson said, somberly.

Brian kicked down the door in front of him. The wind blew snow in. “This walkway probably circles the whole facility. We should be able to find a way to hop onto the roof. We’ll want to take it out quickly and, ideally, quietly.”

They stepped onto the walkway. It seemed the wind was pushing against them, urging them to go back and avoid a gruesome death. Brian glanced down. The ground didn’t exactly seem too far down, but the panorama was so stark and bleak, he knew he’d die like carrion. The vultures would probably freeze to death, too, at least. His vision was limited. He took two steps forward. Demhara was forcibly restraining her jaws from chattering. Another two steps. Jenson scratched his nose. Two steps, a turn.

“Guys,” he breathed. “Holy shit.”

The demon was right there. It towered above them, a dark colossus dominating the area. He didn’t know if she had seen them already, but her presence was so looming, he couldn’t raise a foot. Warm urine trickled down his leg. There was something about its fangs that triggered a primal fear, the same fear, he suspected, that had kept his ancestors alive for this long. And he was going to go against this fear. He had to. Brian practically heard two thousand generations of humans tut-tutting him.

Kite panicked. He yelped and shot towards the demon. It turned its head.

“I guess we can forget about stealth, then,” Jenson muttered, climbing up onto the roof. The others followed.

The demon turned. There was silence, for a few moments, as the contenders squared each other up.

She surged forwards, and with a powerful strike, sent them all flying. Brian’s head hit the cold steel with a painful crack. His vision swam. That was definitely going to leave a mark.

“Look who came to play,” the demon said. Her voice was a quiet lisp, somehow melodic. “You were not satisfied by my children? They were looking forward to seeing you. If you sought different entertainment, allow me to play you a song.”

Her chest constricted, wracked with spasms. Then, she coughed up an object onto her palm. The demon showed it. It was a music box. She turned it, and it began to play.

Brian’s vision began to swim. “Kite! It’s a lullaby! We have to –” he staggered to his knees. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the spawn climbing up from the window below. They chattered and hissed.

“My children will enjoy feeding upon you.”
vulgus vult decipi, ergo decipiatur







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Shadowlight says...



Hadrian-with a demon, chatting

"Sooo, how about them Red Sox?" Hadrian looked up, eying the demon in front of him.

"Don't speak of them."

"Because they Suck ass?"

"They don't suck! they're just having an off season." Hadrian bristled ever so slightly- Baseball was one of his few "normal" male habits, and having someone, a demon no less demeaning his favorite team was almost too much.

The Demon grinned a lazy half smirking grin- that had a striking reselmblance to the smile Kite used- and slouched back in his chair- magical chains and a circle of salt around him keeping the unholy thing at bay- for the moment.

"So....what's your name? Mine is Legion."

"no it's not."

"Yes it is!"

"No, it's not."

"How the hell would YOU know? you're just some human!"

"Legion is the General of hell, you clearly aren't that high on the food chain."

"Ouch, know a way to make a guy feel good." Hadrian raised a brow as he folded his coat over one of the many chairs in the little windowless room,

"my job is to simply watch you, not entertain you or make you "feel good" " the demon laughed raucously.

"Hells Din! You are a funny man aren't you?" he strained at the chains, "How about letting me go funny man?"

"My name is Hadrian."

"Okay Hadrian, how about you let me go?"

"No."

"Come on!"

"No."

"Bitch."

"Excuse me? " Hadrian stood and went towards the creature, brows knitting, "Watch your language." the Demon only laughed louder, almost drowning out the sound of the door unlocking from the outside, Hadrian assumed it was his partner coming back- she had said she would be back in an hour, and it felt much longer then that. but to the Agents surprise two faces peeked around the edge of the door,

"....Miss Tabitha? Dr. Sophie?" Hadrian cocked his head to one side, the girls both squeaked in fright and gave him sheepish smiles.

"Oh, hey Hadrian...." Tabitha said sliding into the room, trying to look like she belonged their- Sophie hot on her heels.

"Hello." There was one of those long awkward pauses that always seemed to plague Hadiran's conversations, the demon broke it.

"Ooooh! what have we got here?! two little Hoochie Mama's ready for some fun?! who's first?" He made lewd gestures and grinned hungrily at the two girls.

Hadrian was down on him in a instant- pushing him headfirst into the table with a loud bang!

"Be respectful, there are ladies here."

"No kidding bitch." Hadiran did it again

"OW! okay fine.... who put the stick up your as--backside?"

"...Excuse me?" Tabbitha broke in, rescuing Hadrian from further embarrassment.

"It's a figure of speech." Hadrian turned to the two girls again- the demon quiet- for the moment.

"What are you two doing here?" The two girls exchanged glances that anyone- except Hadrian- would have seen as very suspicious, but he missed it entirely.

"We're here," Tabitha began slowly,

"Under orders from Fury. we have some basic things that we need to do to the Demon for our research." Sophie ended with one of her confusing smiles. Hadiran blinked.

"He gave you clearance for that?"

"oh!" The demon almost giggled, " you wanna /do./ things to me? saddle up girls!" Hadrian turned on the demon, "Sorry! sorry! Hells fire, you're one of those angry virgins aren't you?" Sophie made a small choking noise, Tabby gasped, and Hadrian felt a blush rising over his normally pale features, "What? You mean You two sweet things didn't know? Lord.... the stench of it is like- rolling off of him."

"H-how do you know?" Sophie just had to ask,

"I'm a Lust demon, Incubus or some shit like that and he stinks like a 30 year old virgin, it's sad. Anyway- tests? what are we doing?" He grinned at Sophie- taking her in, then turned and took in Tabby- equally thoroughly.

Hadrian retreated to a corner of the room, giving the girls their space, but close enough to keep a watchful eye on the mouthy demon in their possession.
"D*** the torpedoes! Four bells! Full speed ahead!"~ Admiral David Farragut





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Shadowlight says...



Spoiler! :
I'm sorry its so rough, but life has gone to hell- my grandmother went into the hospital and it's just a mess so sorry everyone. also this is from Demi's point of view in a sense- I know the spider has a mate hanging around somewhere. Also I left the actual saving of all their asses to the boys. xD So have fun.


Demhara/in a web of trouble:

Something was clearly wrong, very, very wrong. First the demons blood, normally demon blood is nothing to sniff at, but this stuff, she stared at her companions, each sprayed over with the stuff like a bad collage party gone bad, it seemed to, slow their movements, and now this music? The three men around her stumbled drunkenly and one by one fell to their knees- Kite nearly shooting Jenson as he went down.

Demhara was dumbstruck- what the fuck was going on?! She turned round and round- the little devils crawling up the walls- that bitches music box.... the music box! The thought flashed through Demhara's mind like incendiary bullets- the music was some kind of lure- like the voices of the sirens, and apparently this music only worked on men- it made sense... the demon needed some sort of “father” for her spawn... even unwilling mates. Jealousy flared up in Demhara's heart- how DARE she! The bitch! These were HER boys, not some big breasted hussy's playthings!

The demon locked eyes with her for a few seconds, grinning a self satisfied grin that just rankled in Demhara's soul.

“Aw, you really are no fun” it purred softly, the music still filling the air, “what am I going to do with you?”

“ I was just about to ask you the same thing.” Demhara grabbed up Jenson's handguns- her own magazines empty and leveled them at the box the demon held and let fire a hail of fire bullets, the box shattered and the Demon hissed like a wet fire and dropped it- shouting curses in the black language at the woman standing defiantly before her.

As soon as the music stopped, Brian, Jenson and Kite began to revive. But Demhara didn't have time to waste dealing with them, shedding her heavy fur coat she took a running leap off the roof- and onto the Demon's back.

“Demi what the fuck are you doing?! Jesus Christ!” Kite bawled, Brian looked only mildly Surprised and Thankfully Jenson seemed to have an idea of what she was planning- for he let loose a veritable hail of shot at the spider Demon.

Scrambling to get a footing- and sticking the bitch with her heeled snow-boots she grappled for a hold the demon all the while trying to grab at her,

“Get off!” it screeched, “Get off!”

“Brian behind us!” the shout distracted Demhara for a split second and looking over she saw her three companions facing off against a hoard of demon spawn, which were overrunning the roof of the building, bullets whizzed and Brian's Rapier was inky with blood.

“Shit!” Demhara snarled, almost falling off the back of the Demon spider, but managing to keep her footing. Getting to the creatures head she pulled out her cut wire and straddling it's neck she put her favorite weapon to use- the jugular was severed, the windpipe cut and the head fell away from the body.

At the same instant the weak point in Demhara's plan showed, she couldn't' get off- demon began to convulse like a dying spider- legs flailing wildly and curling up one by one, smashing into adjacent buildings, leveling some and simply breaking on others, then with a final shudder the creature toppled over- and with a scream Demhara fell with it crashing through the roof of a warehouse, striking her head on something and blacked out.
"D*** the torpedoes! Four bells! Full speed ahead!"~ Admiral David Farragut





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Blackwood says...



Jenson


Kite screamed out as the demon fell, bringing with it his precious cargo of Demhara. The three of them had hardly even regained awareness as he rushed forward, impulsive and unthinking, toward the gaping hole in the roof. Brain was moaning on the floor, his prosthetic twitching awkwardly, but in all other senses, seeming fine. Jenson rubbed his eyes; his vision was blurred, and the left lens of his dazzling shades had completely snapped, leaving a shard like opening in the frame.

“Dem, where are ya!?” Kite was wandering around like a drunkard, with no direction and only a blind desire to find the woman ruling him. Jenson scanned around for his gun; missing. He decided not to waste any more time and hurried out after Kite.

The spider women smelt dead, and she felt dead. Whatever had been the driving force within her had now being extinguished, that he could tell for sure. But the demonic energies were still heavy in the air, pulsating from the core of the building no weaker than they had been before.

“Kite. Get back with the group.” He called, warning his companion. “Get back. You’re a sitting duck over there.”

“Don’t kid with me. Demi is here somewhere.” Kite yelped back, shaking the delusion from his head. Brian scrambled to his feet, stretching out his limbs and standing up to see what had just loomed over Kite. “Mother slugger…” he hissed.

Jenson bit his lip. On the far end of the roof the black worm or slug that they had seen earlier had made its appearance, though this time of a considerably much larger size.

“Kite!!!” Jens called the alarm as it slithered its way toward the short man. Kite barely had time to spin, face to face with the beast as it let forth a spindle of white thread, denser than the spiders, and far more sticky. Kite was cocooned instantly, his arms unable to wrench fast enough away from the gunk before more and more layers were sprayed on him. Brain drew his rapier and charged, but he simply could not cover the distance between him and the worm fast enough. The worm demon had opened its soft mouth, revealing the source of the string. It had no teeth, but it proceeded to engulf Kites trapped legs, clenching him in its throat.

“Arrhhhhggghh don’t forget to record forensic file-” Kite managed to start before a wad of the thread was caught in his mouth, reducing him to spluttering. The worm heaved itself, heading down the hole in the floor,moving surprisingly quick for such a hideous lifeform, Kite prisoner to its fleshy jaws.

“This aint the time to become compost!” Brian yelled after it, rubbing his hands together and preparing for another chase. The worm had left behind it a trail of what seemed like a vine or vein attached to its back end. Brian had noticed this and took his blade to the air, ready to sever.

“Wait!” Jenson cried. “If you cut it we won’t be able to follow it. But even then-”

“No time for philosophising kid.” Brian snapped, but hesitated, lowering his sword. Instead he took a strong grip of the winding vein. “Gotta find that bastard before Kite is digested.” He wrapped his wrist around the slugs trailing vein and used it to lower himself into the hole in the ground, using the wall to shimmy himself onto solid ground before he followed along after the vein, vanishing from sight into the darkness.

Idiots. Damn those guys. So impulsive. Jens found himself standing in shock at their brashness, suddenly alone in the ruins of the roof of the warehouse. Kite was surely in trouble, but the worm didn’t look quite ready enough to swallow him whole.

Jens shuffled through the curled remains of the spider. Finding Demhara was his new priority. It wasn’t like her to have not shown her face by now, climbing back and shaking it off. No, something was wrong. His eyes flicked quickly until they settled on a dark heap on the far side of the room. Human.

He hurried over and turned Demhara on her back. She wasn’t exactly conscious,but was moaning softly. A dark purple lump had presented itself on her forehead.

“Demhara?” He tried, patting her cheek softly. Her features twitched, but still she did not wake. He pulled her upright and leaned her against the wall, taking the small water canister from his pouch. A potent stench whiffed up from it the moment he unscrewed the lid.

Damn that Kite; replacing every bottle he could get his hands on with whisky. The fumes of whatever Kite had loaded it with seemed to me enough to stir Demhara. She wrinkled her nose before taking her hands across her eyes to shield her vision from the bright light.

Jens stood up quickly, giving her some distance. “Are you concussed?”

“I’m dazed.” Was all she could manage, taking another minute to adjust herself to consciousness. “Where are the others. What happened?”

“We have another issue.” Jens rubbed the back of his head. “A whole worm of trouble. I’m pretty sure that it has been evoked by the spiders defeat.”

“How many bugs to we have to squash around here to get anything done?” Dem whined, patting her cheeks rapidly as she blinked around the proximity. “But that doesn’t answer my question, where are the others?”

“Kite’s on the menu to become the slugs new snack and Brian rushed off after him.” He lowered his voice. “Please, lets not fall into the same trap they did. We will be better use if we take a more tactical approach-”

Demhara coughed a laugh out loud. “Ha! I can’t see Kite ever agreeing to that. How do you two get along?”

Jens smiled, shrugging. “Who knows?”

He lead her over to the hole the worm had vanished down and pointed out the vein and how it had been connected to the backside of the worm.

“Brian went right after it, that way.”

Demhara nodded. “I know what you’re thinking. We should follow it the other way, find the source of the vein, and with it…”

“The epicentre of whatever demonic power is fuelling these invertebrates.” Jens concluded.

The back end of the vein lead out across the floor of the facility, through a set of double doors, where it thickened and glowed with a greenish red aura. Smaller veins started to branch off and trail down unlit passageways in various directions, thickening the main stem. It had grown so thick the two of them had to squeeze their way around, over and beneath it in order to get through the corridor. A high pitched squealing suddenly broke out from the final doorway in front of them, and a rat-sized slug catapulted itself through the air. Demhara rigged up the heavy gun and with one shot blew it into tiny specks of worm chunks.

“Is that my gun?”

“Yep. I was out of bullets.” Demhara squeezed herself around the thickest tendril of vein and into the unnaturally lit room behind it, Jenson following closely behind.

“My god….” She hissed. In front of them was a massive pod embedded in the floor. It was frozen and encased in solid black ice, the worms vein directly leading into the base of it.

“This thing has incredible power.” Jens whispered in awe. “At least a class B demon… but it’s form is so rudimentary.”

“As long as we can figure out how to destroy it.” Demhara rigged up the flaming gun. “Lets melt this iceberg.” She let out a heavy round of heated bullets, which dug into the ice.

After the smoke had cleared she inspected the damage. “Barely a dent. And the ice still feels completely cold.”

Jenson wandered around to the far side, looking for a change in the ice, but it was all solid. Black and gleaming, unpentratible. He reached out to feel its surface as Demhara had done.

The moment he touched the ice his arm was burned in excruciating pain. The ice itself licked with the flame of all its power, slicing up his skin. He pulled away, crying out. This was no normal power and no normal injury. Demhara had only felt coldness. There was only one explanation. The power was aimed at defence against demons. Did that mean that the worm and the spider had been foe rather than friend? Who knew what kind of demonic conflict they had all just wandered into.
Hahah....haha.....ahahaha.





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Lumi says...



Marquee's Theme

Green. And black. Lots of black. It's like...it's like snot you blow out after rolling around in the dirt. Kite groaned, nauseated, as the demonsilk coating around his head loosened and retracted. His head fell limp to the side and his eyes rolled up to reorient himself. The demonsilk continued to retract, and without warning Kite fell onto a steel floor, cold as permafrost.

His hands padded at his pockets, fumbling until he found his pack of menthols and lighter. In three quick movements, he had a cigarette lit and smoke in his throat. He welcomed the burn in the midst of the cold. It got his blood flowing, his gears moving.

"So," he mumbled from the side of his mouth, lazily crooked smile curved at the edge, "you can take human form just as well as all the other demons."

"Are you really surprised?"

Kite rolled up onto his backside and drove the smoke through his nose, exhaling like a dragon. He stood and brushed off his clothes, shoving his hands in his pockets. "You sure don't have many manners for a demon in a tuxedo."

"Are you really convinced that I am what you say I am?"

Kite rolled his neck and fixated on the man sitting at a poker table across the room from him. He practically stank of demon. And he was a shapeshifter. That said, it was never good to jump to conclusions. Kite ambled to the table and took a seat. The suit poured two glasses of Scotch and passed one to Kite.

"How about this," the suit proposed, "we exchange with one another--one fact for another. If it sweetens the deal for you, I'll begin." He took a sip of his drink and picked a strand of demonsilk from his teeth. "My name is Marquee, and you are only half-correct in calling me a demon." He folded his hands on the table. "That's two. Your turn."

Kite drummed his fingers against his glass, considering the deal. Did half-demons exist? And if they did, would they hunt demons? Or humans? Or what if his breed wasn't half-human? The other half could be anything: from a hypothetical angel to...a worm. Kite kissed out a ring of smoke. "My name is Kite, and I'm a man." A smirk. "Feel free to check the facts."

Marquee was amused. "I'm interested, Mr. Kite, as to why your spirit shivers when you say that your name is Kite. It's an odd name, certainly, but to use a misnomer in a game of facts? It feels...wicked." Marquee licked his top teeth. "There's no pressure for this one fact, though. Whether or not you feel like telling me the truth on something as arbitrary as a name is...well, I'd say it's arbitrary." His eyes rolled to the left, and he sighed. "Your comrades are about to stir up quite a bit of trouble if they manage to break the barrier I erected around Space."

Kite's eyes narrowed. So he hunted demons--but didn't kill them. Did that mean he was incapable? Or that he had a sentimental reason for keeping this particular demon alive? Regardless, he'd shown his hand: red, the color of a demon hunter. Had he shared a fact? Maybe that he'd hunted down the demon Space. That was clever. Either way, it was Kite's turn. Something to boil his blood. He put out his cigarette and put one of his guns on the table, pointed at Marquee. "My next fact is that I'd like to shoot you in the face, Marquee. I'd like to see what it'd do to you."

The demon hunter grinned, but shook his head. "I cannot allow that, Kite. Let me explain something that you--and your friend in the shadows--will find delicious." Marquee threw out an arm that morphed into a stream of demonsilk. After a struggle out of Kite's line of sight, Marquee drug Brian to the table, paralyzed from the cocoon. "Now then." He took another drink. Kite lit another cigarette. Brian's head rolled to the side, limp. "I'm not sure how you haven't figured this out yet, even if you aren't the brightest agents, but this place is no town located on an earthly map." Marquee put his drink down with a thud. "Think about it, Kite. The cold. The utter confusion you can't get grips on. My friend, you are in a prison cell on the outskirts of Hell."
I am a forest fire and an ocean, and I will burn you just as much
as I will drown everything you have inside.
-Shinji Moon


I am the property of Rydia, please return me to her ship.





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Mon Aug 25, 2014 9:46 pm
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Caesar says...



Spoiler! :
once again delegating the action


Brian | nargyeblarrghwhat

Brian came to and saw a fist crash perilously near his head. He tried to blink the fog away as quickly as he could. His mind tried to roll away, but his body was stuck several timeframes before the movement, like that one hilarious time Jenson and Kite were PvPing in Dark Souls.

Brian frowned. Why was he thinking about that now, of all times? His head hurt. The same cloying sensation from before assaulted him. He looked at his surroundings. It was green black, very sharp, very lucid. Behind him, a figure in ice. In front of him, an individual in a suit and a very angry Kite.

"Oh look," the suit person said, "our second guest is awake. Welcome to Hell."

"Back to our game, Marquee. I want to know why someone would jail a demon in its own turf. I'm afraid of the dark."

The words became blurry, the next exchange hazy. He tried to hold onto lucidity, trying to reason as quickly as he could. The trapped figure must be the demon they were hunting, and the figure in the suit must be, at this point, another demon. He had said welcome to Hell... he'd always assumed hell would be fiery, or have office buildings, at the very least. No good. He was loosing his senses again. Brian collapsed into blackness.

In the roiling void, there were sensations and abstractions. Hands reached out to him. The table suddenly seemed a lot more comfortable. It rocked, as if he were on the ocean. An ocean of hands? Cold hands. It was cold. He was drowning. Brian was lifted up through a freezing ocean and into the same room again. He could hear, and see.

"If that's how it is, then maybe we can strike an agreement. Whenever I kill a demon, I wonder if they have a family. You know, in Hell and stuff." A beat. "But I pull the trigger anyway."

Brian moaned something that probably didn't sound like what it sounded in his mind.

"There's trouble with your plan, Kite." The suit took a drink and poured more into a glass. The splash of burnt orange in the glass made Brian think of a napalm demon in South Africa. "Unless the demon imprisoned is killed or released," The napalm demon had an accent. German? Scottish? "no spirit may leave the prison cell."

"That's easy, then," Brian mumbled, fighting the fog in his mind. "Kill the demonrrrghmyhead." He collapsed again, but the ground seemed so incredibly distant. The figures below him were so tiny as they moved towards him. No, they weren't moving towards him... he was falling down to them. Glacially, he turned. He was falling down a building, at the top of which was the demon in the suit. He was grinning. Behind him, he vaguely saw Kite, guns out.

Brian hit the ground and snapped back to reality. He was face to face with a glass of cognac. A cigarette butt was smoking in the dregs of the liquor. He tried to stand, but Kite's face was still incredibly far away.

Brian fell into blackness again. He thought he heard, in the distance, a very loud crash, or perhaps a bang.
vulgus vult decipi, ergo decipiatur







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Tue Aug 26, 2014 6:24 pm
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StellaThomas says...



Sophie | Taking none of this basement-snark

The demon twisted a smile over albeit very handsome lips as she approached. She glanced at Tabs, but Tabitha stayed a safe distance, her eyes all over the demon like... well like Sophie's eyes had been all over Hadrian's shirtless body. But that was irrelevant.

"Coming to get a closer look, sweetheart?" crooned the demon.

Sophie pulled out a pair of gloves and a phlebotomy kit from her bag and pulled the tourniquet so tight it was fit to burst around his arm.

"So you like it rough, do you?" He sat back a little. "I can work with that."

"And I can't work with that dirty mouth of yours so why don't you just shut up and let me do my job?"

"Just trying to make small talk, sweetheart."

"My name is Sophie," she said shortly. "Not sweetheart." Demon veins were tricksy little blighters, just like their owners, twisting and tortuous and never staying where you thought they would, but Sophie frowned and decided she had this one. "Are you not going to tell me your name?"

"You know they say there's power in names," the demon said, in a dark voice as if he were threatening her.

"Yep. So that's why I'm calling you Martin."

Tabitha full on snorted.

"Martin?! That's not a name for an incubus."

"No, but it's the name for a patient, and unless you give me your real name that's what I'm going to use. Okay, Martin, hold still, you're going to feel a pinch."

He yowled as she stabbed the needle into him. Got it first time. Mentally, Sophie punched the air and grabbed a set of vials to fill.

"Not used to pain in Hell?"

"Not like that. Holy crap. Why do people want to live on Earth?"

Sophie cocked her head. "The question I want to know is, why don't you want to live in Hell?"

"Cold," the demon murmured, looking straight ahead into space. Then he turned and looked straight at Sophie with violently green eyes. They were mesmerising. "It's so cold down there. So cold you can't feel your own toes, or fingers. You forget the smells of everything except the cold, how warm skin feels to the touch."

He raised his hand as far as he could, and his fingers just brushed Sophie's face. She stared into his eyes, forgetting about the vial in hand.

"And then Earth... Earth is so beautiful. There are so many deliciously hot places in this world. Have you ever been to the Sahara?" Sophie shook her head. Martin closed his eyes and tipped his handsome head backwards. "Roasting hot sand, like molten gold that shifts and slides under your feet, and nothing but you and sun and sand for miles and miles... And dynamite, the way it erupts in a cacophony of colours and sounds and heat. I love the smell after an explosion." He opened his eyes again. "Demons have better noses than humans. We can smell each other, sometimes we can smell things about to come. But the other senses too... in Hell, you can't get any taste off of whiskey, or tequila... it doesn't numb the pain. Nothing does. But here." His devilish smile returned. "Well, Sophie,I'm sure you know how a swig of vodka heats you up, and then it's back to bed with a warm body..."

Sophie shook her head and brought herself out of the reverie.

Helpfully, at this stage, Hadrian reminded her, "He's an incubus."

"Thanks for the warning," she muttered, pulling the long-ago-filled vial off and popping another one. She refused to make eye contact with Martin again. What was that? she wondered. How could he possibly have had that effect?

"You smell of desire," he leant down and whispered in her ear. "Not of a desire to be numb. A desire to feel."

"You shut your mouth."

"Why don't you let me out of these chains, and I'll show you?"

She pulled the needle out of Martin's arm and he yelped again. "All yours, Tabs," she said, hiding her face to make sure Tabitha and Martin couldn't see her blushing.

She stood by the cell door, agitating to leave, but not wanting to abandon Tabitha down here. This had been her own stupid idea. She shouldn't have dragged Tabitha along. Five more minutes, she told herself, five more minutes and then they could go and this would all be over.

She was oblivious to everything that was happening behind her, to what Tabitha was doing or what Martin was saying to put her off.

Sophie's ears suddenly prickled. There was the sound of a far-away boom. Her heart accelerated about tenfold, a fast staccato rhythm that echoed through her whole body as she turned to cast her wild eyes on Tabitha and Hadrian.

Martin was the one who caught her eye though. He had his eyes shut, another, different smile on his lips.

He inhaled, long and slow. "I've always loved that smell," he said.
"Stella. You were in my dream the other night. And everyone called you Princess." -Lauren2010








Who's the more foolish, the fool, or the fool who follows him?
— Obi-Wan Kenobi