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On my own

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Post by Asmodeus on September 25th 2018, 2:45 pm

Asmodeus listened as his wounds slowly attempted to stitch themselves. Even with the demonic runes, it was an agonizingly slow process. It would take weeks for him to heal, and that’s with the assistance Samael had given him. This energy was working to deconstruct him, it was almost horrifying how even repeated minor exposure to this energy actually had lasting consequences. It reminded him of the stories of the world that had passed… or was it the world to come? None could know for sure. With a pained sigh he shifted his weight to sit up, looking around a small bit before noticing the proximity of Adam and Samael. It was almost as painful to hear as it probably was to say… knowing that Samael was used to this type of danger.

”Heh…. figures.” He muttered to himself. It wasn’t long before Adam confessed there wasn’t much he could do about it. That was something Asmodeus knew all too well. When he marched to war, especially as he had, the Host of Hell couldn’t hope to stop him. There was only one way to stop him. To give him the death he desired. Adam transitioned the question by stating it was most likely none of his business, then asked what harmed them so badly. Asmodeus contemplated his response.

”Samael was investigating a cult. My human... the boy you met… He was in Nevada hunting down his father, and the one whom shanked him on the sidewalk. Of course he didn’t want to kennel me… I get a bit feisty when caged.” Asmodeus explained the beginnings of why he was here, though he began to think of the actual question. Adam didn’t need any more information than that. Though misinformation would be as greatly utilized as genuine information. HE also suddenly realized he probably confused the poor undead being by his choice of words. He was a demon, you don't kennel demons, do you? ”Samael was tracking a boy, one who met with me. He wanted something so I introduced him to someone who made dreams come true. Found this cult, Samael went in and didn’t come out. Nephilim and Cambion blood for a ritual….a ritual being conducted by a goddess. Interrupted the ritual, stopped them... but lotta good that did me.”

Asmodeus ended his explanation with a scoff. He was sickened with himself that he couldn’t even hold his own against the celestial. He had to accept the fact retreat was a sound strategy when dealing with a foe that greatly out-classes you. But his pride wouldn’t let him. He should have done more, he should have put that overbearing divine in their place, teach them some humility. He looked at Samael and scoffed, shaking his head. He needed to deter this conversation from going any further. It was as good a time as any.

”So he does this a lot then? Picks fights he can’t win?” Asmodeus asked, a vague level of familiarity to this story keeping him fixated and almost intensely focused upon the question and it’s eventual answer.

Asmodeus

Number of posts : 145
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Post by Samael Christensen on September 25th 2018, 6:20 pm

Adam was used to being the idiot that made unnecessary risks without really thinking about the moment but Samael just happened to go beyond that. This wasn’t the first time he ended up on his door, covered in his own blood and near death. Making people go through the potential of death that actually cared about him was just a pain in the ass really. There was no force in the world that seemed to be able to stop him in the end, so all he could do was help when it seemed like he could.

Adam gave Asmodeus a confused look in regards to someone being his human, but he didn’t really say anything else about that. Not like he really had a place judging humans and their strange relationships with demons. His own relations were a little weird when any thought was put into how they were structured. Instead his mind focused on the bit about him tracking down a cult, as if that were a perfectly normal thing to do. What was with his fascination towards cults and their various sordid sacrifices to their gods?

”Normally the god doesn’t come down to fight you, so must have gotten into something deep.” Adam noted with a sigh, trying to imagine what they could have gotten into that lead to that. Was it the child sacrificing cults that sprung up lately? Because that would have made more sense than he wanted to admit. Something about children managed to flip that protective switch in the cambion. There was the taste of bitterness in the other males voice, but he didn’t dig into it. Maybe he wasn’t used to having gods get the one up over him or losing just happened  pissed him off.

”Oh yeah, you’d think he had a death wish or something.” Adam scoffed, knowing how obvious that wish was by now. Why he even ended up back on his door instead of letting himself pass in some alleyway like he seemed to want to. Even thinking about that however made him feel uncomfortable, so he just pushed it away from his mind. Instead continuing to talk.  ”You’d think he’d learn by now but here we are. I don’t even know if I could count the times this has happened at this point. So what’s your relationship to him?” An explanation followed by a question, Adam casually asking while arcing a single brow.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The immortal with not enough patience for this- Adam Johnson (Vampire boi)
The Ravens Son- Samael Christensen
Samael Christensen
Samael Christensen

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Post by Asmodeus on September 25th 2018, 9:01 pm

Asmodeus seemed to have a moment to his thoughts as he looked to Samael, and how this vampiric parter of his watched over him. This was actually quite sickening to Asmodeus to watch this. For several reasons, in truth. No it’s not because they were men, or two different creatures entirely...but it was because of Samael’s stupidity, and the fact that love of any kind made him uncomfortable. Irritable would be the better word, in fact. Memories of what one had and lost. Despite what they may say, Asmodeus would assure you, It was NOT better to have loved and lost. It was to walk around your entire life without an arm, only to one day wake up and realize that missing piece of you was there. You’d never known you were to have it, but there it was, it made you whole. Only for it to be ripped away from you, feeling nothing but pain. Try as you might, you can never be as ignorant to the void within you as you were before it was filled.

His mind was numb, but he still processed what Adam had said. Then came the billion dollar question. His relation to Samael was brought into the mix. Unfortunately, Asmodeus hadn’t thought of how to reply to that. As far as Samael knew, he was just some guy that knew Ezra. Samael didn’t even see him there in his humanoid demonic form, or rather he didn’t see the transformation from Gio into this man. It could have been an anonymous vigilante. Especially with the sick murderers out there in Las Vegas, that wouldn’t be too far of a stretch. The only real problem would be the vampire’s nose. His blood had trace amounts of sulphur, brimstone. Asmodeus was a cambion, at best. At worst, he was something much more.

”Me? I’m just a sweet transvestite, from transexual transylvania.’” He said, though the smirk on his face seemed to show his attempt at humor, civility almost. Hopefully some of the humor took, but if not he could understand that. He wasn’t the best at this type of thing. ”I’m part demon. He was investigating, the investigation brought him to me. I took him to someone else who pointed us in the right direction.” Asmodeus then said, answering the question in a more satisfying answer, rather than simply leaving it as humor.


”I’m thankful for what you’ve both done...but I should ask...How much in a rush are you to get me out of here?” Asmodeus asked, trying to plan out the length of his stay. He didn’t want to exhaust his host with his presence, but he also didn’t want to rush himself. It needed to be a good pace. If he had to leave now, then so be it, he would adapt.

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On my own - Page 5 Asmode10
Asmodeus
Asmodeus

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Post by Samael Christensen on September 25th 2018, 11:15 pm

There were many things he could have asked but what this persons relation to the cambion was took prescience. This was not the first time he found himself with Samael and another on his doorstep, though lately Jake had been absent within whatever life they had. No strange circumstances that  anyone else would have considered too strange to even deal with. His immortal life had become interesting since the two of them came together, but it was also weird in many ways. He lacked whatever insight the other had, which meant questioning was the only means he had. The scent of brimstone and sulfur through the air gave some clues, yet didn’t give everything away. Just enough to show he was dealing with someone that held demonic origins. That was of course when a campy musical was referenced, and he found himself chuckling a little.

”At the very least I know you have interesting tastes.” Adam ceded, as the man seemed to explain what he is. A fellow cambion? Well that explained some, even though he never expected a half demon to be able to fight something like a god and walk away alive. So that spoke measures about their strength. Granted these days metahumans could claim the same and prove so to their human kin. ”As long as you need. You’re not the first blood splattered friend he;s brought and I doubt the last either. Just seems a patten here.” Adam brushed off the suggestion that they should leave. If there was one thing his sire taught him, it was the importance of courtesy.

”Considering how badly you were hurt, you might need a day or so to fully heal. I keep food somewhere around here if you need that.” The weight on his lap shifted but didn’t really move, just Sammy moving in his sleep. ”Knowing Lily, she’s likely pissed about the blood so I might have to hear about it later. She’s always been that way, but I imagine she might appreciate more like her around.” He continued, explaining just things that came to mind and yet he knew his daughter appreciated knowing that there were other half breeds like herself around...that weren’t Samael anyway. They had a strained relationship.

That was when a black form of fluff leapt onto the head of his couch, softly purring and rubbing up against his cheek. ”This is Salem, not my cat but I like him. Hopefully you don’t have an issue with them. Because I can’t get rid of it.”

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The immortal with not enough patience for this- Adam Johnson (Vampire boi)
The Ravens Son- Samael Christensen
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Post by Asmodeus on September 27th 2018, 12:42 am

Asmodeus was welcomed to remain for a time it would seem. It was something that he was surprised by. He actually suspected this person to be too much of a skeptic regarding him, too untrusting. Especially after their last encounter, and the way he acted in the hallway. Asmodeus had to confess, and own his faulty behavior. With a small nod and a faint smile, he offered his gratitude. This creature...no...that was incorrect. This was not a creature, this was a man. He was more a man than he could classify most humans. This was not a mindless creature of the night, this was a man. Everything else was superfluous information that only attested to that. It was actually...oddly inspiring. Especially the part where he spoke of the potential of food. He was, however far too polite to put his host out of the way for food. Then there was a cat. Now, see that's all great and stuff...but all his time disguised as a Hellhound, taking on their psychological preferences, it changes a man-demon-whatever. He had no qualms with the cat, but he was actually visibly cautious of it.

”I will compensate, and personally address the mess I’ve made. The wounds on my pride would bleed brighter if I were to leave such things to you, after your hospitality no less.” Asmodeus said as he started to shift, sliding one of his arms out through the sleeves of his designer coat, tearing at it, and utilizing it as a supportive wrap. It looked like an old war-veterans improvisation to an Ace bandage. He tested himself, stepping forward from his placement, and standing tall. His back buckled a little, he leaned forward with a scowl on his face. He was still severely wounded, but he was stable. Instead of taking things slowly, Asmodeus grumbled to himself, made a fist and drove it into his back, causing him to jolt up. "It's nice to meet you Salem. Don't be offended if I'm cautious of you. Last cat I knew was actually a boy or some furry-meta shit. Scars a man, man...." He let out a heavy sigh, recalling Humanity's odd selection of friends. He clapped his hands together gently and looked to Adam.

”If I may be so bold as to ask a request; I think I need a shower, I’ll get this blood cleaned off of me. Then I’ll begin cleanup of my mess in your daughter’s part of things. Then I’ll get my mess on your end.” Asmodeus said, looking for direction to the bathroom. His plan would normally be a good show of accountability and earnest, remorse for the inconvenience he had caused them. Almost as if Asmodeus wanted to make himself useful, to prevent from being a burden. But he was currently in rough shape… though one who argued with Samael just may have seen where they likely inherited their stubborn nature.

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On my own - Page 5 Asmode10
Asmodeus
Asmodeus

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Post by Samael Christensen on September 27th 2018, 5:40 pm

Adam gave the feline a curt scratch behind the ears. He tolerated the cat only because his daughter loved the little thing, having found it when it was a kitten and it stayed around here ever since. Was pretty smart for a cat so he also liked that as well. There was no response towards his offer of food, so he just assumed that he would be making something for them after all. Honestly he liked it, the excuse to cook for someone that didn’t subsist on the blood of living beings. Samael was one such example, but he mostly perfected that skill when he had to raise Lily from a young little half demon to the woman she was today. As sarcastic as him and even less willing to deal with peoples shit.

His eyes followed the cambion standing up, nearly falling but seemingly getting himself up anyway. Looked like the runes didn’t do their jobs completely, so it would take a little for him to fully repair himself from whatever a god could do. ”Don’’t worry about that. Like I said, we’re used to this kind of thing at this point. ” It was hard not to be so gracious to someone that looked like they needed the help more than anything else, not that he was one to give pity.  Softly rubbing his hands together, he slowly removed the head from his lap and let it rest on one of the small pillows settled onto the love seat.

”Down the hallway to the right. I’m sure we have whatever you need to clean yourself up.” Adam jerked a finger towards  a singular hallway with a few doors that likely broached towards multiple rooms. He would let Asmodeus clean himself as he wished while Adam maneuvered through the kitchen to scrape together a few ingredients that seemed to fot whatever random idea he had for food. Maybe he could try something simple? Well he had buns, meat of the ground variety and various other little things so he could make it work. Setting things up within the time it took the man to bathe himself up, and when he found himself back in the little living the smell of cooking meat would have saturated the living room and kitchen.

To anyone who was hungry it would have seemed tasty but Adam just thought of it as another scent. Learning what worked as far as flavor was an acquired skill. ”Didn’t know what you were into so I thought i’d try an American classic. If you’re into fries those are being made too.” Across a little island counter he had the meat on a small pan made into thick patties, there were slices of cheese of the non kraft variety and  various other required parts. "If you don’t mind wake Sammy up, he needs to eat too."

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The immortal with not enough patience for this- Adam Johnson (Vampire boi)
The Ravens Son- Samael Christensen
Samael Christensen
Samael Christensen

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Post by Asmodeus on September 28th 2018, 2:05 am

Asmodeus was obliged, and he was rather thankful to have the feeling of the hot water falling after him. He knew it was silly, but he remembered the expression of his ally. When you were beaten to an inch of your life, a hot shower or a hot tub were the only places you could actually feel yourself coming back to life. This was the first time he actually understood what the kid was saying. How you could feel the heat actually radiating into your muscles, making the blood in your body flow faster. Your lungs relaxing, allowing every breath to be fuller and more efficient. For a moment, Asmodeus actually had the time to contemplate what this was all about. This cult was serving this Black Beast, and it wouldn’t be long before he would need to call upon his strength. Who knows how powerful this beast must be, if a thing like the woman he fought was but a mere pawn, a worshipper at best.

His eyes opened. He hadn’t turned the light on, instead he opted to shower in utter darkness. With his eyepatch removed he could see through his demonic vision, seeing spectral and wicked shapes slithering through the veil as they wandered. They were harmless, this vision wasn’t even helpful to him in all honesty. It showed him things that were there, but could never be there. He actually saw it illustrated incredibly well in a child’s cartoon. There was this Ice wizard person that could see all sorts of crazy things through his “Wizard eyes”. Just make all the crazy shit equally evil….and at times just as comical. In the darkness he attempted to reach out, a chill struck his spine, the water that splashed against the ground began to feel less hot. The hear was losing it’s sensation as there were pockets of a chilled air that crept through the darkness. He couldn’t rest. His head began to throb and the contents began to ache.

Voices, all the voices, forcing his eyes closed, he tried to push them out. But there wasn’t any success. He could hear them all saying different things. These weren’t familiar voices, they were too many for any one to be distinguishable. He felt his body give way as he started to slip in the water. His body was on fire, the water splashed across his skin like acid, he could only imagine this was how holy water felt to the others of his kind. Pushing his way through the shower he reached out and grabbed the towel, his knees buckling and he was forced to use the bathroom counter to keep himself propped up. With the momentary hell he lived being over, Asmodeus took the towel from the darkness, drying himself, only to reach the space on his back. The skin wasn’t as tender as it had been, looking up his arm shot out to flip on the light, leaving Asmodeus looking horrified as his eyes were inherently burning an amber with inner ring of red. Looking at the skin around him he could see the faintest traces of frost, his breath visible from him as he let out the fearful exhale.

The glass door of the shower had a frost built upon it, two fierce horns swooping back upon an elongated skull. The fangs upon it were akin to that of wolven fangs in an almost unnatural smile with bony hand prints on either side. The voices inside his head died to a low mumble. A lone growling noise resonated form within himself.

Deny what you will, but thy foes I WILL KILL! His eyes faded, and he noticed the wound on his side healing at an accelerated rate. The deeper ones on his back were still very present, and they would take much longer...but anything else to contribute as life-threatening was sewing itself shut.

Asmodeus walked out, he has seemed to make-shift himself a form of clothing from the patch-work of his torn clothes. The eyepatch was on as he stepped out, looking a lot better than he did. He was told to wake Samael up, something he would certainly abide for his host. As he walked over he made a point to introduce himself.

”You can call me Gio. I’ve not had my manners about me. Apologies.” He said, awkwardly correcting himself now that his life was in order. He shook Samael gently, to test the waters. Depending upon how heavy of a sleeper the ginger-demon was, Asmodeus actually contemplated just tipping the couch and rolling him onto the floor. ”Sammy if you don’t mind, you should probably wake up now...or else I’ll wolf down your food...well… German Sheperd down your food.”

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
On my own - Page 5 Asmode10
Asmodeus
Asmodeus

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Post by Samael Christensen on September 29th 2018, 10:12 am

Samael had fallen into sleep rather quickly, seemingly blazing through the steps that preceded dreams into the wide ocean itself. One thing he hated about sleeping was that his dreams were not always the procession of meaningless images that most people dealt with when they slept. His tended to be things that had more of a place in fiction. Memories or just fears given palable form, though he had to admit he liked the former a lot more. There was less horrifying scenery these and the ones he loves tended not to be violently murdered there too. Thse memories were the only time that he could be at ease. A respite from the hours of constantly being on edge as if the world itself would turn on him and strike without any warning. One of the few times that one could find the cambion truly open to speak, which might have explained why he had become such a light sleeper.

Even when Adam moved he already found himself jostled from sleep, feeling the sensation of rough fabric against his cheek instead of denimn and faint warmth. Instead he found the air saturated with cooking meat, suggesying that Adam was cooking. Despite the fact he couldn’t eat food, the guy was always so willing to make sure his guests were fed. Might have been that homebody tendency he showed when the oppurtunity arose. Even still he wanted a little more sleep. Enough that he could brush off the exhaustion that had clung to him like throne, digging into him and dragging him downwards into whatever darkness awaited. That however was not in the cards, as he felt himself once again being shaken along with the voice of Gio telling him to wake up/

Well it looked like he couldn’t get any sleep right now.

”I’m up i’m up.” He grumbled, pushing himself to a sitting position while turning to Gio than Adam who was looking at him from the kitchen. Yeah, he had guessed that much. Feet protested being stood on so quickly, but he rose without much complaint beyond the sensation of muscles protesting. ”Jake been around lately or is he doing that thing where he avoids us?” He leved the question at Adam, moving himself to a lean against the counter.

”Haven’t seen him at all lately.“ The vampire shrugged, placing together a procession of bun, patty and a few other things before sliding it across the counter.

”I thought so.” He nodded, taking a bite from it. ”So, still plan to chase after that cult and their godess? Because I think I might need to reconsider my approach.” He asked, then stated as if that were something they might end up sharing. ”Been hearing down the grape vine about someone that could help but they’re a little scarce when people actually look for them.”

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The immortal with not enough patience for this- Adam Johnson (Vampire boi)
The Ravens Son- Samael Christensen
Samael Christensen
Samael Christensen

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Post by Asmodeus on September 29th 2018, 5:23 pm

”I don’t intend to let them go on with this. Not after what they’ve done to those children. We can’t keep approaching it like this though. It was a miracle that you and the Nephilim made it. If that thing hadn’t of interfered to fight her… we’d all be gone.” Asmodeus said very calmly, partaking of the meal that was put before him. The meal was hot, and more than edible. It was good, actually. Asmodeus could appreciate quality in the texture, though the taste itself was like ash. It wasn’t his host’s fault, Asmodeus was simply too fixated at the moment. His mind too acutely tunneled into the thought of this cult possibly growing, or getting away with these kills. In a heartbeat he could share his findings and have a whole lot of people rallied and seeking blood from any and all that wore that goddess’ symbol. But that goddess? She was not alone, and even more fearfully she SERVED something. What in the name of Terra, Titan and Earth were they up against? He also realized that Samael wasn’t stupid, but he knew that there was no true link between Gio and the demonic rescuer. That armor was specifically designed for Asmodeus, the Lord of Lust. For anyone else to be in it, would be a confusing business. But it’s not like that armor was common knowledge. Asmodeus considered his situation. Of how these two seemed able to flawlessly and contrary to logic, discern identities. They guessed correctly, however. All Asmodeus could do was deny it. To protect his human, and keep his promise.

They’ll put it together.
Killing these two will do the trick
But this is family
Then I’ll make it quick!

”Someone who could help?” Asmodeus asked aloud, his hand removed from any of his silverware as he leaned back. He would not entertain himself in his darker thoughts anymore than he had to. He was more interested in what Samael had to say, about someone being able to help them. His mind flashed to the feeling of the Nephaelim he felt earlier. He thought maybe it had been Ezra, that maybe he had changed. Then he recalled the ravens through the alley. He did not fear Malphas, as he would never be able to discern Asmodeus’ identity. He was protected to heavily by forces far greater than Gods, Angels and Demons. But the thought of ravens entering his mind caused Asmodeus to recall something….someone….

”I suppose I may know a few as well. But I’d need to speak with them. One would be, incredibly, opposed to assisting you initially. But I know their hearts are good. They’d be willing to hear us out.” Asmodeus offered a little as he reclaimed some silverware in hand, proceeding to tremble as he reached down in order to jab at his food.


Last edited by Asmodeus on September 29th 2018, 9:13 pm; edited 1 time in total

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On my own - Page 5 Asmode10
Asmodeus
Asmodeus

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Number of posts : 145
Job : The Progenitor of Robo-sapiens
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Post by Samael Christensen on September 29th 2018, 7:42 pm

Samael seemed to consider what Gio said, hmming silently.  ”Yeah, was pretty good to have that thing come around when it did. That bitch seems to have a habit of sneak attacking people. That’s how you got hurt right?” He asked, inquiry sounding more genuine than anything suspicious. Afterall that was what he assumed when he guy turned up all blooded like he did. Maybe she also wanted some of his blood for whatever dark ritual that was going to be done? Adam seemed not that interested in the conversation, digging through a separate fridge until he removed what looked like a blood bag. However Gio quickly took interest in the person that he had mentioned, shifting the conversation fully to that aspect and he wanted to get there anyway.

”Yeah, heard there was a little buzz around the supernatural community about someone. Well...even the criminal underground actually. That chick who calls herself The Queen of Cinders put a hit out on this woman not too long ago.” Adam explained as the ever helpful info dump. Actually he appreciated that the vampire paid attention to channels he didn’t as if understanding what he needed to happen or maybe he was just still playing to the same role as a few years ago.

”Don’t know what they’ve done to have so many people after them but I do have a name. From what i’ve heard she calls herself The Weaver. Some sort of planeswalking type that came around not too long ago.” A few more mouthfuls of his food, chewing it up and swallowing it without realizing how hungry he was. ”Noticed my sister was poking her nose around into this business so it seems like my father isn’t too pleased with whatever this Good Sister and Black Beast want.” Something he added in, knowing that Adam tended to have an interest in his family drama.

”When isn’t your family sticking their nose into your business? Feel like they have a hate boner for you by now.” Adam interjected, sinking his teeth into the plastic bag and draining it in a matter of seconds.

”Wouldn’t mind hearing about these sources of yours. The more information the better I say.” A small shrug, the faint jingle of a bell in the distance. ”I would rather end the killing soon as possible.”

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The immortal with not enough patience for this- Adam Johnson (Vampire boi)
The Ravens Son- Samael Christensen
Samael Christensen
Samael Christensen

Male
Status :
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Post by Asmodeus on September 29th 2018, 8:46 pm

”Ezra’s the first. Won’t say shit to me, but he’ll tug along if the world is at stake. Being invulnerable to all threats doesn’t do ‘im a lick of good when the worlds gone.” Gio stated as he seemed to stretch a bit, his eyes scanning his plate and hands, as if trying to read some form of invisible scripture. He looked over to Samael at the mention of family. Asmodeus smirked a little, and resigned to a small sigh. ”I can spend a pretty penny on some actual hired hands. As far as people of credible influence, I can get you some powerful aid...if you don’t mind working with some rather dark figures.”

”The Queen of Cinders may actually know some of these individuals. Bring the first name to her reaction will be all the validation you need. A radical named Guilty Spark, and a celestial being whom specializes in putting an end to things that claim cannot be ended. While he’s no friend of mine, he wields the blade of death itself and has an army of vampiric agents. I can also help manipulate to getting my human involved. He’s got a network of allies all tied into deep supernatural and even mundane activity. Adam can attest to the latter two expertise, having befriended one and fought the other.” Asmodeus was beginning to explain his roster of allies a small bit before he realized that there may be an important one that he didn’t note before. He took another bite of his food and began to run through a list of others whom could help him. He finally settled his mind around a decision, he would risk the wrath of Hell itself. But he could not do so yet. He would need Sammy to reach out to Malphas.

”I also don’t do much in the ways of cults. I have, however, helped another cult in the past. When asked for assistance, they’ve generously extended their hand. I...made a deal with the young man whom serves as the cult’s leader. Kohen Gadol. He and the cult just recently became active again, and as I understand it they are sworn enemies of things like this Black Beast. Hell, they’re the reason Shub’Niggurath was imprisoned.” Asmodeus said as he finally finished with this little list. It may not have been the quality of trust that Samael had, but Gio...Asmodeus certainly had his hands in a few pieces of pie. Given by how casually he was saying some of this, without irony, it was safe to assume that he was going to breech his cover soon. Very soon, but he wanted to keep the conversation off of him if he could.

”But anyway, you said your father might help us? Or your family rather? Are they not an agreeable sort?” Asmodeus asked as he proceeded to take a bite. He honestly expected Samael to begin answering but Adam not allow things to go his way. Either way, such was life. All Asmodeus could say for certain… he was glad to have met these boys. Even if everything went downhill from here.

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Post by Samael Christensen on September 29th 2018, 10:00 pm

With a procession of names  Gio showed how many people he knew. Ezra was the one that Samael remembered, the strange man in that club with his knowledge that seemed to be more than he had expected. As if he had hands within pies few people even expected to have existed.  Some of those names didn’t mean anything to him, beyond The Queen f Cinders which meant that he was likely to be going to deal with some interesting people. ”If it’s who I think it is then they’re pretty dangerous.” Adam noted, feeling over his shoulder where he still imagined the blood pouring from the wound without stop. ”I’ve been working with Osiris lately so he might know a little bit.” He offered up  the suggestion as if that would help them in some fashion. Would the self styled king of the undead be willing to help  and would he even know where to look?

There was no harm in trying anyway?

”All of those sound like they would work.” Samael added in shoveling the last of his burger into his mouth as if that fulfilled some hunger. Maybe loosing so much blood that quickly did that to someone. That was of course until his family came up, causing him to nearly choke on the food he was in the middle of swallowing. Resulting in a small fit of coughing, burning pain blossoming through his chest and eyes watering slightly until he washed it down with a cup of water Adam brought in the blink of the eyes.

”My family has never really been fond of me. When your father is a prince of hell and you’re one of their greatest disappointments they don’t exactly come over for Thanksgiving dinner.” He explained, remembering the last time his father sought him out. Nearly killing his...well adopted family as if they were ants. Even down to the nice mage couple that had saved him when he was nothing more than a baby. ”I would rather not mess with them if at all possible. Besides, the ritual to actual summon daddy dearest is a pain in the ass.” He added, remembering reading it somewhere within one of those tomes that were likely bound in human skin.

”We could try all of those other options before the family option. Right?” Adam suggested turning to Gio with an arced brow. Not openly expectant but curious nonetheless.

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Post by Asmodeus on September 30th 2018, 1:19 am

”Prince of Hell? That’s the second time I’ve heard that one tonight. Looks like Ezra was a little mistaken.” He chuckled to himself as he listened to Samael explain. He wouldn’t force Samael to deal with his family, however he could in fact assist Samael in forcing their hand into a bit of compliance. He mulled the concept over, before realizing what exactly was going on. He mentally shook his thoughts free and nodded to Adam, acknowledging his request to exhaust all other resources and alliances before needing to resort to family.

resorting to family? Is this really all that I’ve wrought with my sweat and blood? Was the family I was so willing to die for, to sacrifice everything for? Was this all they would ever become? His mind wandered to Malphas, Mephistopheles, Rochelle, Belial, Astaroth, Entei and the others. Their father had made them this way, it was not their fault. But they needed a reality check. Nothing better than a strange monstrosity attempting to destroy the world, right? He smiled and nodded.

”This thing is large enough I doubt if we’ll be able to do it without every last bit of help we can get….but yes. Absolutely we can wait as long as you need. If you want you don’t need to talk to them at all. We can ask Ezra to do it. If anyone’s got experience dealing with Demon Prince fathers, it’s him.” He said with a little chuckle before he actually managed to snap his fingers, a look of revelation. He stood up and reached into his pocket, pulling out a phone with a shattered screen. Thankfully it still worked enough to flip to the phone. Quickly punching in numbers he asked to be excused a second. He stepped off to the side, and cleared his throat. After a brief conversation with someone about getting a meeting with the “Kohen Gadol”. He wasn’t being sneaky or in anyway secretive about what he was talking about, just a polite distance away. As soon as the call was concluded, he would have a perfect time and date to meet up with the cult.

”I’ve got a meeting here next week. Saturday, if anyone would like to come with. Adam, if you still have that card of mine, there’s a number on the back. I’ll get support on my end...give people the low-down. Sorry to dash. Adam, expect a random envelope with compensation for the dry-cleaning.” He said with a small smile and hectically gathering stuff together. He looked back to Samael and pointed to him. ”You...stop tearing yourself apart. What you do? That makes you a bloody hero. Demon is what you were born. Not who you are...and not, who I bet, you’ll be. You need me, you call me. Adam’s got the number.” He said before winking with his one good eye and seeing himself out.

He had to get back before Humanity. He needed to get that goddamn room cleaned too. This was going to be hectic.

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Post by Samael Christensen on September 30th 2018, 5:32 am

”I’m technically a prince but that comes with all those demons gunning for me. Apparently killing a demon prince means something to them.” He explained knowing that it was painfully true, even if there was no real escape from this life. Demons had their own way of working,  his family especially. Would working with them really bring him anything beyond a terrible end? This Black beast business likely didn’t  bring with it a change to how everything worked beyond the potential of an end. It was large enough that his family would act, but one it was done they would likely turn back to their usual  shenanigans. ”Ezra guy seems like a decent enough person but don’t know if i’d want him dealing with them either.” Not that he was worried they would kill him or anything. At the very least he wasn’t sure if they care to, but his father seemed interested in collecting the nephalem.

From there was what seemed like an odd procession of events. Gio excusing himself, talking on his phone and speaking about getting a meeting with that cult leader before returning to them and excusing himself. It all seemed odd to him, but Adam looked less bothered by the whole thing. ”It happens. Not used to people sticking around here too long, certain someone excluded.” He seemed to shrug off the whole sudden leaving though he didn’t expect the next part.

Kind words afterwall were in short supply.

If someone calling you a hero was kind. He didn’t know if he wanted to have that connotation attached to him with all the expectations. The dark urges he had been feeling lately didn’t suggest that he was anything but a monster. Still he didn’t bring them up. ”I’ll keep it in mind. Sure we’ll see each other sooner than later, probably at that meeting thing you mentioned.” With that he was gone, walking out as if there were something to do with his life. Leaving him blinking and staring at where they had walked out. ”I don’t know how to read that guy.” He stated, finally sitting down properly. Still they had a vague date and that was enough.

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Post by Asmodeus on October 1st 2018, 7:27 pm

Asmodeus went out into the night, leaving behind the only semblance of family he had seen in flesh for more than a century. That’s what it felt like, at the least. True enough he had seen Rochelle on the television and in the magazines, but that was not personal. It wasn’t an actual connection, though it was wonderful to see she was still the strong capable woman he knew her to be. She lived a life of hardship, but no matter what he did...he couldn’t do what he wanted to. He couldn’t be there to help her, or assist her, least of all protect her. He couldn’t go to Malphas and advise him, or give him advice the way he used to. That one brought a tear to eye. Remembering all the ways Asmodeus would tell Malphas to fix something in his stance, or in his transitions. Then, of course, Malphas essentially telling him to fuck off and trying to discreetly apply the corrections without his eldest brother noticing. He could never admit he was wrong, could he? Or Entei; Well actually there weren’t too many fond memories of him. He was a brother, but Asmodeus never even saw him. He would have to recall Mephisto was well. It was like looking at the most innocent demon ever. Even drinking the blood from the severed heads of the innocent didn’t take away from his innocent aura.

He needed to begin preparations. Things were moving quickly. They were on the edge of apocalypse. He could sense the forces of Hell stirring, he could feel the shadows lurking behind him, observing him. There was something far more than just a Black Beast at play here. He would need all the help he could get. Malphas would help; he’d have no choice in the matter. Neither would Asmodeus, if the situation were reversed, MAlphas needing help. But it would all come to Asmodeus giving away his closest secret. He would need to sacrifice anything and everything...his life included. Asmodeus stepped outside to find the rumbling of thunder in the distance.

When this was all said and done. When the Black Beast came, and the forces of Apocalypse had come to pass. This would be an entirely different world. It was then that he felt it, another surge of power. Rain began to downpour as a warm orange lightning flashed through the sky, the black clouds seeming to have a pink flash as the thunder grumbled. Asmodeus let out a sigh, before realizing where he was. This was Las Vegas, well Nevada to be sure. They hardly ever saw a drop of rain, unless it was monsoon season...it was not thought. He began to worry and wonder, his mind flashing back to what he had heard before he left to come here with his human.

"Love ya buddy. Hopefully see ya soon...or never."

When had he EVER spoken like that? Never. He was Humanity, the undefeated, powerless mortal that stood against the likes of Gods. He tried to focus as he panicked, attempting to figure out why they were here. Asmodeus had believed it to be Sin, or that was what he gathered from overhearing the young man speak. Closing his eyes he attempted to perfectly recall what he had heard.

He was talking to someone, that Atterrius fellow. He spoke of how he would take care of this. It was his Sin, and so it must be him who atoned for it. Asmodeus actually became alarmed, wondering what he meant by “atone”. That would be a horrible word-choice, if fighting Sin. But what if this wasn’t the Primordial of Evil? What if he wasn’t here to fight sin, or to rectify a wrong? Atone? His heart began to race as he immediately turned into an alleyway, in a full fledged howl from Hell he was in his black skinned suit with more holy blades. The skull-like face with jagged fangs without a lower match in a slight grin, masking the panic.

Humanity didn’t come to fight. He came to atone. He came to pay the price for his sins.

He came to die...

**** Topic Conclusion ****


Spoiler:
Rain battered down against the dry earth. The entire area had been evacuated. There were flashes of neon lights in the background. The police were held up a ways back, the city was burning. Metaphorically, at least. Cultists and sacrifices, entire buildings falling over and being obliterated. There was a lot more for the police to be worried about other than a street-brawl in the most awkward weather ever. The patter and clatter of the rain against the many surfaces was all the noise one could hear, save for the sound of sleek metal carving through air. The breath of two combatants that made contact. Forearm to forearm, hand to wrist. Ducking down and fist to stomach.

The words shared hadn’t helped here. The devilish creature known as Humanity stood toe to toe with a young woman, three katana blades sheathed. One to her left, one to her right and one upside down on her back, locked into its cover. To anyone watching they would see what looked to be a battle of nightmares. The fanged, ragged and worn demonic mask of fangs and stitching that was Humanity, hidden beneath his ratted and tattered trench coat, his armor within. Then there was his challenger. A figure with a smooth flat mask, The only features upon it were the two eye spaces, and “The Symbol” of the storm surrounding them, like an odd traditional make-up. The smooth, beautiful porcelain looking mask was betrayed by her horrific outfit. Jagged and jaded spikes protruding outwards from her shoulders, sweeping from the side to back like the wings one would find upon a wicked creature. They retained the same porcelain appearance as her mask, though this substance seemed to outline many areas of her body. IT almost appeared as if this substance was growing around her black skin clad suit, though her shoulder pieces were the only thing that seemed to be applied to the exterior of a cornflower blue stole, and black tendril-like overcoat.

It took him a moment to realize who he was fighting. But there could be no mistake. The tendrils, the stole. It was quite clear where she got those. The protoplasmic substance she wore on her face and body as armor. The Storm emblem around her eyes, like drawn on make-up. Her fist connected with Humanity’s hand. His needle-clawed gauntlet caught the knuckle spikes of her protoplasmic talons, but he could feel them scraping away at the material within his hand. His gauntlet would succumb to destruction years before something as refined as this material she wore.

Catching her fist was not enough, she was seamless in her swift reaction, he knee arching up and planting itself in his side, bypassing the armor directly where it was exposed. The protoplasmic substance shifted through his skin like skimming water, and buried itself into him. The man let out a roat of pain, left sitting there to wonder how long she had known of the exposure to his armor. Withdrawing the knee, blood dripped from the spike. Quickly grabbing onto the clawed gauntlet with both hands, the woman pushed off with her other foot, almost as if she were transitioning into a cartwheel.  Panic spread through the man’s head. He pulled back, ripping his hand out of the gauntlet, his bones making a sickening set of snaps as he pulled out the shaking hand.

If he had left his hand in there, her body weight and the torque applied, it would have snapped his hand in a complete one eighty. Severing it’s connection entirely. Breaking his thumb seemed far better an option. He knew this was a one-way trip. But he still tried. He tried to reach her, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t even muster a scratch. Not because he was incapable, but because he would not fight her. His fighting styles were offensively fixated upon the kill, or incapacitation. He knew very few defensive styles or techniques that helped to anything but help him go to the offensive in transition. The closest thing he had that could help here was a very dusty version of Akido. But she was far superior in its practices, knew his every move, his every thought before he did. It was like fighting someone ten steps ahead.

He watched his hand tremor, grunting as he sucked up as much air as he could, refusing to scream, refusing to give his enemy the satisfaction of a reaction to pain. He simply stood up and reached to his side, with his left hand he withdrew his signature dagger, the draconian head and serpentine coil around the hilt beginning to glow. With a swift motion he dashed forward. He would attempt to put her off guard, utilizing the dagger as a means of focus, a distraction if you will. After all, who expects someone to attack with a broken hand? Apparently she did. As the dagger grew closer to her, it burned hotter and suddenly it’s gravity increased a thousand fold, lowering. Where this was anticipated to allow him shift his weight, his broken hand was grabbed by the wrist, and twisted. The woman pushed from the ground, releasing the hand and flipping over Humanity. Back to back, she  bent up her knee and kicked back, driving her heel into the back of her opponent’s knee. With the shift of balance she prioritized turning around and grasping one of his arm’s with the other hand around his throat. She started by ripping his arm backwards, turning herself and wrenching his arm and wrist. Her claws began to make scratching motions, beginning to wear upon the armor around his neck. One of her legs laced itself around the bruised leg. Despite the modulator’s best efforts, as she scratched it began to break. The unsteady and fragmented breathing spazzing between demonic infrasound and the voice of the actual man within the shell.


”Sake ni yotta jinsei-.” The woman began talking. It was her native tongue, perhaps? But it was not something he cared for. He could feel her scratching away vigorously as he was held in suspense, unable to move anything but one of his legs. His eyes began to search for a way to assist him. He was listening to her, allowing her to be deliberate in her slow speech. She wanted him to squirm, to struggle and to know his death was nigh. But perhaps she should have just ended him right there? It would have been wiser, and 10 out of 10 people whom have faced Humanity would recommend it. Rather they would have, as they could not recommend it because they are quite dead. And this woman would be too, if she continued to play. Humanity noticed his dagger dropped to the ground. He just needed to figure out the weakness, the exposed and uncovered part to this stance...this hold.

”yume no yōna shi.” It was the completion of her statement that Humanity realized just what she was trying to do. She was taunting him, goading him. He felt his jaw lock up. He wanted this woman to bleed, to die...he wanted to kill. Even if this tore out his throat, he wanted to see this woman dead. He reached up with his good arm, pulling back at her claw, despite how she wrenched. WIth as much of a hop as he could muster, he was going to drive a boot into this woman’s off leg, pulling himself forward. With a prompt collision, Humanity was on the ground. The dagger was in hand as the woman transitioned to a defensive position, her hands in front of her in anticipation, one of her knees on the ground as she watched, warily.

Humanity began to stand, driving his dagger into the ground, splitting the pavement with ease as he tried to push up, not allowing his knees to touch the ground. The woman took the opportunity to strike, but it was a mistake she would come to regret. When an enemy utilizes their pride, their weaknesses correctly, they can advertise an attack. In doing so, they can sell the product they want...virtually no hassle. As she came forward, the dagger came up from the ground, Humanity dropping to the ground and driving it upwards. The dagger burned, in his hand as it pierced through the woman’s mask. The woman withdrew, howling in pain as she reached up and clawed away at her mask. As he fought to his feet, Humanity watched as the strange woman’s face was revealed. A mess of lustrous, wire-black hair and a fresh cut across the woman’s cheek that bled a bright red blood.

”I wish I could undo it.” Was all he could say, his heart heavy. ”I wish it never happened. But I can’t undo that. All I can do is pay for my sins, but I-I can’t let you kill me either.” He tried to say it in an impartial way, but all he felt was pain. Physical and otherwise, as the woman scoffed at him and shook her head, lost in disbelief.

”You think you could ever atone for this? For what you’ve done? For who you are? Look at you, your crusade. Sake ni yotta jinsei yume no yōna shi. Drunken Life, Dreamy Death.” Her words burned to a degree. That Idiom was a was a favorite one. Many didn’t know what it means. Normally when you say it though, they just google it, like the dumb-asses they are. Humanity scoffed as he reached up, ripping the hood down from his trench coat and revealing the fractured mask he wore. ”You are an affront to everything, you dishonor EVERYTHING you do with this crusade. But no more. Rest this night, Hito-sei. Go and prepare, for I shall return. Make your peace, for now you face Ryu Musume.”

With a flash of lightning she vanished, he could hear her footsteps faintly, but she was certainly an expert at making an escape. Humanity began to fall, but rather than to his knees, he turned, allowing his hip to slap against the ground, as he laid in the street for a moment. With all of his might he kept pressure against his side, hoping to stop the bleeding in the next few moments. But even as he could smell a slightly sweet and almost calming scent, he still felt nothing but fixation.

Ryu Musume...you've no idea what you’ve done...

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