hmmmm well definitely not romantic…
unless
i change my mind
which will happen
now.
maybe.
yes.
whispers shipping is allowed. BUT the plot should be that maybe some demons are having beef with Zackary because he's half-breed and shouldn't be allowed to be so high up on Hell's social ladder.
Ohhh~ Yes! I like that. Also, maybe, since Seth is a hitman/bodyguard for hire, some one hires him to take out Zackary?
Yee and Zackary's like
no? can you not i have a life okay thanks.
Yeah! This is gonna be awesome!!
Would you like to start, or shall I?
Yeee!!! you start plzz i'm terrible at starts
Oki!
Another day in hell. Another day of serving those stupid demons… Seth growls slightly, his scythe hanging from his back, his sword at his side. He's currently standing in a very large living room, waiting for his next employer. The fire crackled lowly in the fireplace and the black leather furniture had an amber glow to it. Seth had grown a name for himself, otherwise, he would not be in this lavishly decorated room. "Satan's guard dog" or "The White Phantom" were some of the few names he was known by. He was a dangerous demon who did his work thoroughly. He was ruthless, cruel, harsh and evil… that's what a lot of people thought anyways. Sure, he's a jerk, but he's just trying to get some money and move up the ladder. The door opens, and the slender, black haired, pale faced and red eyed demon smirks at him. "The White Phantom. You actually showed." Seth stays quiet. The demon chuckles, "No fun… Anyways. I have an assignment I need you to do. I need you to assassinate someone by the name of Zackary Novelle Williams~" The demon purrs. "Of course, you'll be rewarded handsomely." Seth nods, "Consider it done." He bows ever so slightly and exits the fiery chambers.
Zackary felt sharper than he did all month. His employer had been working him hard so he kept in shape and ready for assassins, which he and his boss knew were going to flock in like pigeons for a piece of bread laying on the ground. Zackary swiftly moved through the crowd of people keeping a deadened look on his face and his jaw set. He spoke to no one and kept himself as hidden as possible in the crowd, as his demon sense kept an alert out for other demons approaching.
Seth could easily blend into a crowd. He wore a simple hoodie, jeans, and converse. He was quiet, stealthy. He was known as the White Phantom for a reason. It's difficult to spot him unless you're really trying. He had put some pretty powerful spells on his scythe and sword, so he could carry them and humans would not be affected. They wouldn't be able to see either of the blades. Demons could see them, yes, but no one else. He flicks some white hair from his face and settles down in front of a coffee shop. He knew he had to scope out his prey first. When the timing is right, that's when he'll strike. He orders a Cappuccino, heavy on the cream, and sighs softly. He never really enjoyed hunting out people. Nor did he like killing them. But he had expectations, he had a reputation and he had his father to worry about.
Zackary kept his gaze forward. The hair on his neck rose and he slowed down, fingering a small hilt of some kind on his belt that could've easily passed off for a pen. Just get home to Jace. That's your goal, Willams. His boss' order rung in his ears as his eyes flitted to the glint in the sunlight. Is that… a sword? What the hell? Who does this guy think he is? He grabbed his pen-like hilt, ready to charge his magic into it in order to defend himself as he passed slowly, keeping his peripherals professional-marching band personnel-like as he passed.
(Bold is Zackary's thoughts)
Target acquired Seth thinks, a smirk forming on his lips. The waitress comes with his drink and smiles, "Is that all for you today, sir?" Seth shakes his head, "No, no. This is perfect, thank you." He says as politely as he can muster. She nods and walks off. Seth takes a casual sip of his drink, humming in thought as he watches his target leave. His scythe glints dangerously beside him. It was completely black, made to look like it had been made of obsidian. Mortals just simply passed by, He hums, leaving what he owed. His sense of smell is locked on that of his victims. He takes a breath and begins to follow after, subtly. He couldn't let his prey know that he was following. So he kept his head down and his pace steady, following at a distance.
Zackary knew he was following him. Smirking, he decided to turn and grin brightly at the man behind him, keeping the other following him in his gaze.
"Hey there! How're you doing?"
"Uuuuhhh… fine I guess."
"You're doing a great," The great was laced with thick sarcasm and he hoped that the hitman after him noticed, "job following me. Congrats!"
"Uuuuhhh okay. Thanks, I guess."
He kept walking, walking past the other to make it seem less suspicious. His gaze his kept to the ground as he flicks some of his snowflake white hair in front of his face. He saw the diversion coming, he could tell the other knew about him. Either this guy was really good, or he had been tipped off. It could be either, but Seth didn't care. he had his target in his sight. He turns a sharp left in the closest alleyway and begins to climb up slowly. He makes it to the roof and continues to watch his target from above, his lips twisting into a hysterical smile.
Zackary had disappeared altogether. He'd lost his target somehow and in someway.
"Hi. You're looking for me?" His voice sounded from nearby. He sat on a large vent unit holding his pen between his fingers, his groceries on either side. "I go out for groceries and I get a hitman sent on me. At least Cameron told me to be careful. Though…" He grinned slyly. "I didn't need him to tell me that. Hell has been trying to take me down for months."
Seth turned around slowly, his hand resting on the handle of his deadly looking scythe. He hums in thought. "How interesting~" He purrs, "How you live among humans, when you are part of the highest ranks in hell." He shrugs, "That, however is not my business." He shrugs slightly. His scythe rests in his hands. He knew very little about his target. Only that it was a hurry and kill mission. He didn't know about the half-bloods child. He didn't know about anything really. Just that he had to kill him. He sighs, "Honestly, I don't wanna do this, but…" His scythe flashes in the light, the black gem glinting malevolently.
Zackary pulled the pen out of his belt loop and clicked it idly a few times. "You can try, like the others, who have failed. I pay a high price to stay with my son. I don't care, I will kill as many as it takes for people to realize that half-breeds are just as powerful as… have your go, White Phantom. Let's see if you live up to your name." He didn't move off the vent unit, just clicked his pen a few more times, and raised his chin a little so the breeze could stir his hair.
He starts. Son… His grip loosens on his scythe. I can't kill someone who has a son… That… It isn't right… He whirls his scythe and it latches back onto his back. "I may be a murderer and a demon, but that does not mean that I will kill a father with a son at home. I am not that heartless." he mutters, crossing his arms. He watches the other man, "As much as I need that reward, I can receive it from someone else." He takes his hood off, something rare indeed. He was extremely pale, his purple eyes glinting slightly in the light. He was small, lean, but you could tell he was a fighter. A small scar was under his right eye from dodging a bullet, and he had endless amounts of scars on his body from fights. He wasn't a demon to be messed with.
Zackary shook his hair off his shoulders and glowered at him down his pencil-sharp nose. He rubbed his scar idly with his left thumb and didn't move. "Sorry, but I don't necessarily trust you. I have the highest reward over my head because I'm one of the richest and more powerful demons in Hell. So if you're not after my reward or my life, what the hell are you doing here? Everyone knows I have a son! That's why I live with humankind!"
Seth raises his brow slightly. "You do realize I don't get out a lot right?" He asks, staring at the other. "It isn't a matter of trust over money, but I'm not going to kill a man-" He gasp sharply, hearing his mother scream in the back of his mind. He grasps his head, shaking at the memory. "I-I'm not going to kill a man who has a son. That isn't… isn't right…" he mutters softly. He glares at the other, before turning his back to the other, shaking his head. "So head on home to your son." He shakes his head, rubbing his temples.
Zackary studied him through his cold gray gaze, saying nothing. "Why are you grabbing your head like that? It's quite noticeable." He clicked his pen a couple times, still feeling exceptionally nervous.
"None of your damn business." He growls lowly, hissing at the slight throbbing. His mothers screams, plus of those he had killed or could not save starting to echo in his mind, "Not like you should care, anyways." he mutters, rolling his eyes slightly.
"I think I should care about the hitman who offered me mercy. You're not like the others, and I appreciate that." Zackary didn't grin, though he felt a rush of affection and appreciation for… whoever was standing in front of him.
"It's just a headache…" he mutters, "They hit me like a truck and disappear after a while. No big-" He grunts in pain when the screaming reaches an octave higher. His fists clench at his side as he tries to focus on his breathing. He was starting to feel lightheaded. He growls slightly, keeping it together. He needed to get home, fast. Or at least, the worst case scenario is staying at a nearby hotel. His eyes close as he tries to relax. 'Easy…' He thinks to himself.
Zackary stood and rummaged through his bag. "I have some medicine, hold on…" He cracked open a handy bottle of Ibuprofen and tipped a few pills in his hand. He grabbed a Figi water bottle (which Jace requested, but Zackary could just stop by a gas station or something later) and walked over to Seth. "Hey, here." Zackary shoved the water bottle under his arm and took the other's hands carefully, and tipped the pills into his palms. "Here's some water." He handed Seth the water bottle.
Seth was in complete and utter shock. He nods meekly, all arrogance gone as he gratefully takes the pills and the water. He takes a sip of water before swallowing the pills and downs the bottle. "Thanks… he says, rubbing his head. He grunts in pain, stumbling a little. How the hell is he supposed to get home? His dad'll be furious if he sees his son like this, and not even finishing the job… He sighs softly and sits down, continuing to rub his head.
Zackary took a leather wallet out of his pocket and gave the other a few hundred dollar bills. "There. I know how tough it is in Hell. Get… someone close to you something nice." Zackary put his wallet back swiftly into his pocket and recollected his groceries as if nothing had happened. He paused to put his pen back into his belt.
(I'm gonna go soon i'll be back on tomorrow)
Okie//
He sighs softly, then stares at the money, "I don't need money." He says, even though he really did. Sure, he was a high ranking demon with a very rich father, but he wanted to work for his money. "There is no way I can take that… Besides… I don't really have anyone." His headache is a gentle throbbing now, less pain in his head. He stands, brushing himself off. "Seth." He says, extending his hand.
Zackary waved his hand. "You will. I have my son, and he's all I need." He sighed. "Until my demonic stature takes over once again." He took his hand. "Zackary… but I'm sure you already know my name." He grinned a sharp-toothed grin.
Seth chuckles, "Yes, I did know that."He hums in thought. "I wish you and your son well." He says, smiling a little. He shakes it, his grip firm, but not to the point of breaking the hand. He chuckles softly, "Well, I bet you have a son you need to get back to. Sorry for wasting your time." He says, releasing Zackary's hand.
Oh! What is Seth starts like, keeping an eye on Jace? At first he just wanted to see Zackarys kid, but then he starts watching over the house and everything, keeping the kiddo safe and such//