Reboot time >:)
Reboot time >:)
I'll go find the starter lol
A fan clicked as it turned slowly, trying to displace the smoky air. A figure sat in a furnished oak chair, feet perched on the desk they sat at. The room they sat in was wholly dark, consuming any light possible. The only illumination was the dim desk lamp; even then, the smoky air obscured all the lamp produced. The figure put a cigarette to their lips, blowing out the smoke that filled their lungs. The cigarettes smoke wafted up to the ceiling. The fan, trying to do its job, managed to mix the new with the old. The figure picked up one of the scattered papers on his desk, glaring at it as voices danced around in his head. Kill them. Kill them all, It rasped. "They’ll pay… they’ll pay in blood. I promise." A hoarse voice filled the room, little emotion filling the cracks. The figure placed the sheet back on the desk, crumpled the cigarette in an ashtray, and stood up. The paper? It was a hit list. And only a handful of names on the hit list could be made out in the low light. Solomon Aveline: The first victim. But first, this person needed to complete something. They grabbed their black frock coat off the coat hanger. They snatched a Damascus dagger off the wall, hiding it in their inner coat pocket.
Gabriel stuffed his hands in the pockets of his frock coat. He grimaced as the rays of the sun hit his face. He hadn’t slept in days, instead, he was too busy tracking down the addresses of his victims. Many of the penalties Gabriel had outlined for each individual modeled after the manner in which his beloved buddies were slain. Now, he was headed towards the Pits of London, the only district of London that harbored the worst of the worst. Killers and creatures from broken families. The greatest place to find a partner in crime. Once again would the Magpies’ leader rise like a demon from hell, back to hunt those who’ve wronged him. Looking up, he could smell the blood that accompanied the Pits of London. The weak could never survive in a place like this. The buildings were small, easy to break into, and one could kill whoever may be sleeping.
Rolling his sleepy eyes, accompanied by reddish circles from his addiction to demon’s blood, he scanned the rampant district for his next, newest, obsession. And who could that possibly be? Death himself? After all, they would have to prove themselves to him as ‘worthy’.
The man in one of the shadowed alleys of Ashlings Corner watched Gabriel through deep red, half-lidded, feral and predatory eyes, tossing a wicked looking blade in the air and catching it casually. He wasn't afraid of the man in the street. He had no need to be. But what really caught the man's eye was the outline of the dagger beneath Gabriel's overcoat.
He steps into the street, stalking after Gabriel like a tiger: lazily, casually, but with a vicious intent. He made no noise as he walked. He didn't even disturb the dust in the air. But he knew that this little game of cat and mouse was bound to be interesting.
He followed Gabriel for several casual streets, continuing to toss his dagger. After a bit, he chuckles in his deep baritone voice and calls out to Gabriel in Infernal.
"Hello, my friend. Is there any reason for you to be out at such a perilous time of night?" he asks casually.
Gabriel strolled down the street, smirking to himself. Weariness slowly set in, but he took a deep breath to offset it. He had been awake for days, watching and planning. Reaching into his frock coat, he pulled out a dagger, waving it as he walked. When Gabriel had eyes on something, he needed to acquire it. This creature was not different. Gabriel continued on his way, eyeing any possible escape routes upon decaying buildings and water-stained rooftops. A raspy voice has called out to him, and he answered. Turning heel, Gabriel regarded the predator. “I have many reasons for being out late. Many of which I don’t like to bring up. However, I do need help with revenge, my dear demon.” He placed the dagger into is holster under the frock coat.
The man smiles brutally, no longer speaking in Infernal but in simple, plain English, his voice no longer roughened by the harshness of the Infernal language, making it smooth and dark.
"Revenge, you say? Well. . . by all means, tell me, who has earned your ire?" he laughs.
Gabriel stuffs his hands in his coat, staring up at the sky. It grew lighter, morning bleeding into the black night. This game would have to be quick, but he didn’t mind. He knew how to entice a predator. Gabriel snapped his fingers, a piece of paper materializing from black mist. A smile crept upon the warlock’s face. “They killed them. They killed my gang, so to speak. The council has to pay one way or another. Descendant or not.” Gabriel’s eyes grew dark, the red rounding the bottom populating to his cheekbones. If the demon was smart, the reddening would be a sign of addiction. One that was impossible to rid of.
The warlock held a hand to his cheek, grimacing from the pain. “So, would such a creature be interested in dealing with me?” He stared the demon down, awaiting an answer.
The man chuckles. "Straight to the point, not even asking my name. . . though I'm sure you must know it. The newest controller of Ashlings Corner."
He examines the man's eyes and hums contemplatively as he talks, and seems to make a quick calculation. "Well. . . we can't have you dying of blood withdrawl, now can we? Not when there's sure to be a reward in it for me. If there isn't well. . . no dice on any help."
He holds out his hand, a vial of dark, blackish-red ichor appearing and hovering just over his palm. "500 now. 500 per head I take. You get your blood and revenge, I get my fill of violence. Win-win, yeah?"
Gabriel smiled, rubbing his hand into his cheek. Sometimes, the ache of withdrawal seeped into his cheekbones after pounding at his head. Other times it incapacitated him for hours on end. “I am a forward man. I will set my sights on something and retrieve it. However, I have no concern for this pit where London dumps its unwanted. And I don’t think you do, either.” He hissed from the ache in his face. Goddamn demons, making him crave their blood. Father should have never fed it to him. “I am willing to die from withdrawal.” Gabriel used people like pawns, pieces in a calculated chess game However, this one is different. “I am not made of money.’ He cut himself off with another hiss of pain, stumbling backward. “What interest am I of anyway?” Gabriel messed with his overcoat, seemingly reaching for something, however, it was never found.
"Oh, no, I know neither of us really care. However, if I know your name, you must know mine." the man chuckles.
"Are you sure?" he inquires.
"Oh, I know. But your reserves from your height of power surely contain enough for at least 4 heads." he grins.
Gabriel snarled at the demon, his left eye twitching in annoyance. "If you know mine, then say it, you foul beast!" The red color spread from under his eyes, down his cheek, and populated his neck. He didn't care if the withdrawal from blood killed him. Being a high warlock meant he had a place after death. He had met many demons, mingled with the dark, and played cards against his own kind. Gabriel didn't care. "Oh, I am perfectly sure. Maybe it would end this suffering." He glared at the demon, sighing before turning his back to him. Gabriel started on his commute home. "Oh, I am quite rich in human standards. And my height of power has not ended. People haven't forgotten my name just yet." A dark power emanated off of him.
(ah, yes. Nyx is now a bird demon)
"Gabriel." the man smirks, the single word more of an utterance, a declaration, than anything.
The man shrugs. "Suit yourself."
The vial of blood disappears.
"The height of your power ended with the last brutal murder of your 'friends.'" he chuckles.
(Please! I read it over twice and didn't catch I wrote fowl XD)
Gabriel stopped in his tracks. "Yes. That is my name. Use it sparingly, Nyx." He hissed, turning around to face the demon. He wanted to go home, not stand around on the streets. The potential to be murdered was too high. "I will suit myself — for now, until the pain gets too unbearable." He moved his hand, a dark smoke floating around it. With a snap, the smoke dissipated and Gabriel winced. "I don't mind dulling my own pain." Gabriel stepped closer to Nyx, reaching into his coat. The warlock pulled out his knife. "No. It didn't. The height of my power ended when the council decided to burn my son alive. When my war ended with loss and pain." He growled. "Want to know when that happened? Last month. Now I have friends and family to avenge. Are you in or not?" Gabriel didn't care about the cost. All he cared about was the brutal murder in front of him. All he cared about was to avenge his close friends and family. Not his power, wellbeing, or money.
(Mm-hmmm. We both know you're dyslexic of the eyes, ears and mouth-)
Nyx smirks. "And who are you to command me to do something, Gabe? You are neither demon nor a summoner of such, so you have no control over what I do."
"Well, let me know how well that's working out for you in an hour." the demon chuckles, relishing the thought of refusing the man the blood a while longer to watch him writhe as his own body consumes itself in an attempt to find more demonic blood.
"Details. Whether it was your son or your best friend, they're all dead and six feet under. No getting them back from that. Now, as for the murders. How many are there? Depending on how many I may raise or lower my price." the demonic man chuckles.
(Hm - I want to deny that, but I'm not sure if I can)
Gabriel’s eye twitched. He stared at the demon, jaw quivering. “My name is Gabriel. Gabe has no meaning. There is no reasoning.” He hissed, gritting his teeth. “Why would anyone want to be an impious demon? A warlock is perfect for me.” He laughed, twisting the dagger in his hands. “I am restoring greatness to London, demon.” This might be insufferable, a stupid idea — merely a child playing with greater evils. But Gabriel shrugged off the many consequences. It could end in disaster, possibly destruction of an entire city. However, Gabriel only cared for himself, his own wellbeing. “Why don’t you shut your goddamn mouth? It might help you in the long run.” He coughed, clearing his throat from the pain in his chest. It didn’t bother him. The warlock was used to it. Gabriel played with his blonde hair. He rolled his eyes. “How many? About 9–10 persons. You might enjoy it if you like wiping out governments.” He smiled nefariously, tapping his foot while he laid in wait.
"Who cares what meaning you put to your name? It is, in the end, yet another dull word." Nyx shrugs. "As for being a demon, why wouldn't you want to be one? After all, you have enough demon blood in you to be one in the first place."
"And I am bathing this world in blood, human." the demon says back cooly. "As for what will help me? That would be you dying. However, you will provide me with meager entertainment until I can gather my full strength in this world"
"I have no interest in governments. Carnage and blood are my specialties. I am changing my price. Per head, I require one emotion from you. Or one precious memory. I shall keep it as payment and you will lose the ability to recall or feel the emotion or memory. And since there is nobody else who is capable of doing this task you have, of completing this hitlist, you will accept." Nyx chuckles demonically.
Gabriel narrowed his eyes. “I care. Do you think your name means shit? It's just another dull word.” He mocked Nyx. “Why? Because demons have no other means than mindless violence and destruction. At least I have meaning to my plans, but I don’t want to be painted as only the muse. I want to create an opus. To be called rex” His face twitched, a smile crossing his lips. There was more to him than he let others perceive. But he’d always let himself have ambiguity. “Isn’t that what you always do, demon? Tear things and people apart until nothing is left besides a ravaged Earth?” He stopped playing with the dagger, pressing the tip to his finger. “Entertainment. Is that all you see me as? Nothing but a jester to your little circus.” Gabriel scoffed, turning his back to Nyx. “I will not let myself be the clown, the pawn” He turned his head to stare at Nyx. “A quid pro quo.” His hair fell into his face. “Take what you want. Who needs things to fester around one’s head? I rarely feel anyway.” Gabriel placed the dagger back in its holster and stuffed his hands into his coat. He started walking.
"My name means Ender of Worlds, Devourer of Man and Arbiter of Pandemonium. I am Death and scarlet spray upon marble floors, I am the laugh that follows a heinous act. My name is the name of Hell itself, while yours is the name of a human pig wallowing in the pits of his own self-pity and shallow revenge. It is not meaning I myself have given to my name; rather, it is something entire civilisations have called me before I bring them to a gloriously bloody ruin." Nyx snaps. "You cannot even hold a speck of dust to the raging winds of the change that I bring to the universes I have visited. Do not presume to call my name a 'dull word' again, you insignificant, bile-drinking, leech livered toad fucker."
"Of course it's what I do. It was what I was born to do." he snorts. "And yes, that is all I see you as. You are no king or ringmaster, not a ruler or a leader. You listen to the urges of the demonic and not to your own self. That is the behaviour of a slave."
Nyx laughs. "Delightful. . . who is the first target?"
He starts following after Gabriel.
Gabriel scoffed, rolling his eyes. He kept on his way, desperately wanting to staple Nyx’s mouth closed. “Your name means nothing to me. If you think it does, you would be foolish. I do not care about the symbolism it brings or the meaning you draw to my name. After all, you are just a little stray I managed to pick off the streets.” He looked back, smirking at the demon. “Strays don’t talk back. Nor do little kitties speak.” He pulled a piece of paper out of his coat, staring at it with intrigue. Anarchy. That was Gabriel’s plan. The warlock folded the paper, shoving it back in his coat. “I was forced to listen to the urges of the demonic since a child. Forgive me for not immediately ignoring my father’s teachings.” He hissed, waving his hand. Dark smoke gatherer around his palm. Gabriel muttered something in Latin, fulling around to face the kitten stalking him. “More like where are we going? The council. That is why I asked about governments.” He dispersed the smoke, and it curled around his form. “Sic semper tyrannis, dear demon.” He disappeared.
Nyx slams Gabriel up against the wall with a negligent backhand swipe to the abdomen before following it up with a harsh blow to the temple, the left kidney and the man's crotch before grabbing him by the throat and lifting him into the air.
"Let me get one. SIngle. Thing. Straight here. You do not own me. You did not find me. And I am not a kittie. I own myself, I found you, and I am a demon. I shall do what I want, when I want, how I fucking want." he breathes harshly.
He lets the man disappear, picking fastidiously at his nails as he strolls casually to the council.
Gabriel dropped onto a marble floor, taking in deep breaths. He didn’t want to relish in pain, but his whole body throbbed. He got onto his hand, looking around the room. Goddamn it. He landed in the court. Reconciling with the pain in his body, Gabriel got himself to his feet. Cool air brushed against the skin of his face, and he glanced around. No one seemed to be here. He placed a hand to his head, squeezing his eyes shut. This is why demons were insufferable creatures. Yet, he still inquired for their help. Heavy footsteps echoed throughout the hall, getting closer to his location. Oh, Gabriel was screwed. If any of the members saw him, they would have his head on a silver platter. He looked for exit points, places he could hide if needed. A smaller figure appeared, peering at Gabriel over the judge’s bench. It held its head high, regarding Gabriel.
“So Youngblood has come out of hiding.” It hissed, head in hand, while leaning over the bench.
Gabriel swallowed harshly. He knew this figure, this man. He only mocked Gabriel with is heavy gazing searing into his back. This one killed his friend — well, more like his pawn. His breathing heightened, the pain in his body melting away. Now wasn’t the time to wallow in discomfort. “Do you think prey would fall into the predator’s hands willingly? We’ve been playing this game for too long, Kaz.” He grabbed the knife from inside his coat.
Kaz regarded the knife, his jaw tightening. He pursed his lips, standing up straight. His body was stiff, watching the blonde’s every move. His breathing became heavy, almost as if trapped in a daze. Kaz blinked, placing his hands in the bench. “We’re not doing this again, Youngblood. Too many have died for your sins. What makes you think it would be okay to stumble in here? To finish the job your son half-assed?”
Gabriel shoulders tensed. He drew them back, sneering at Kaz. His face twisted into one of anger, eyes burning into Kaz’s. “Precisely. But now you’re playing with fire. That comment will be the death of you.” He gritted his teeth.
Kaz raised an eyebrow. He stepped down from the judge’s bench, and onto Gabriel’s level. “Try me.” He growled.
As soon as Kaz says "Try me," the entire front wall of the council building evaporates into black dust as Nyx walks in, holding a cup of tea.
"What have I missed?" he asks casually, his demonic aura on full blast, the effects similar to gamma radiation as supersonic pellets of demonic magicules blast through everything, including Gabriel. And there were a lot, enough to make the room look like it was filled with smoke and TV static.
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