I am Satan, Neyaphem, Demon, Lucifer, Apollyon. I lead the legions of Hell (the Brimstone Realm) and I am their king and lord.
I am one of the oldest of human gods, and I'm one of the newest too. Fear me or love me at your own expense.
Anthea listened carefully, watching curiously as Azazel moved about the room collecting various items that Anthea had no idea of their purpose. “An eye for an eye, right?” Anthea laughed nervously and took the dolls from him, setting the glass down to grab the marker, using her teeth to gnaw the cap off. She immediately started drawing on the dolls, ignoring Azazel’s warnings, even when Raven dropped to the floor— Anthea’s eyes only briefly flickered over to the limp heap of limbs before they returned, intensely, on her project at hand.
“Then you will keep these dolls safe. I want your word. I want your word that only you and I may touch these,” she held the one up that looked like her mother, blue eyes burning into Azazel’s fiercely, “Or the deal is off. What do I have to give in order to make this deal equal?”
“I honestly have no idea,” he stroked his beard. “Tell me. What besides your family is the most important things to you, and I’ll take a pick?” Chuckling he conjured an orb of light and tossed it to Raven. It splashed like liquid upon contact, healing the Incarnate in an instant.
“I could take your ability to see your family’s future. Or maybe their memories of you.” He pondered, to gauge her reaction.
Anthea was taken off guard when the door opened and there was no one behind it; her fingers of one hand lightly touched the skin of her collarbone in surprise as her eyes wandered around the office until they landed on a man who appeared to be Azazel, just more…..human.
“Azazel?” she hesitantly asked, stepping into the office with Raven. As soon as the man spoke, she relaxed— this was definitely Azazel, he just looked a bit different and Anthea supposed it was probably just an added cushion he was using to assure her the utmost comfort. Anthea smiled lazily and took the offered seat with a small ‘oomph’, sinking into the chair; her hand reached out to take the glass, but she didn’t raise it to her lips.
“Protection for my family, yes,” Anthea nodded, politely smiling at Azazel as she twirled the glass in her hands, her blue eyes staring at the liquid sloshing around, “Ever since I found out about my mutation and decided to use it actively, I’ve always had these disturbing premonitions in which my family is murdered. And I can’t have that happen. They mean too much to me. I mean, hell, I LEFT because I thought it would keep them safe, but no matter what I do, I just can’t seem to change my premonition. You keep them safe and I’ll … I don’t know —- that clause is up to you..”
Azazel’s quill lazily floated about the room for a bit as he thought. “I will assume you came here today understanding the way I work, yes?” He stood, and began to walk around the room, grabbing things off shelves and piling them on the desk. Crystals and bits of metal, some fabric and a group of dolls with no determinate gender. “I make magic, and deals, and take a price yes. The price must equal out to the deal. So to protect what’s most important to you I’ll have to take something from you of equal importance.”
He held out the dolls to her, for her to take, and then handed over a marker. “These dolls will represent your family. It’s a simple spell in theory. You create these dolls, I imbue them with power, and we put them away in a safe place and thus your family will be protected.
“A warning though, my dear. Should the dolls be tampered with in any way the harm that befalls them will befall your family.” He held one up, made to look like Raven and with Raven’s name on it. “Say I took Raven’s doll and just happened to do this.”
He brought it swiftly down on the table, breaking it in half. Behind her, Raven fell to the floor, lifeless as a rag doll. “See what I mean?”
Nick sat next to Azazel, Raven on the other side. “Father don’t you think it’d be best to give him a little more help?” It was rare for him to call him father, and Azazel was surprised.
“I could, I guess. Fine. I’ll take away the hordes.” Standing, he made his way to the edge of the dais and made a smoothing gesture with his hands. The ground in the arena instantly closed, the reaching arms and hands disappearing beneath it. “Though if he fails I’m making him one of the undead down there for the next one. He has some skill.”
Bucky sighed and dropped down, scooping up the blade and rolling away as a tendril of darkness shot at him, brushing him and burning the skin, leaving a black burn and making him stumble as strength rushed out of him. “Damn…” he muttered as he struggled to pull himself up, but not quickly enough. Another grabbed his ankle and pulled him down hard, dragging him as he was reduced to almost a rag doll. He choked as he struggled to breathe, being pulled closer to the creature. He gritted his teeth and reached into a pouch and pulled out a syringe. He panted heavilly before stabbing it into his chest, the amphetamine-adrenaline combo shot into his heart and he jerked up, pupils dilating as he got close. He ripped a grenade off his belt, used a lace from his pants to strap it to the knife and threw it just under the monster before jumping high into the air and behind the wall of the arena. The white light that poured out after the explosion would’ve blinded anyone who’d been looking and of lesser caliber. He jumped up when the smoke cleared about to cheer, before the small boost wore off, and he fell the 20 feet dead onto his back as he ran out of juice. “i w~iiinnnn” he panted heavily.
Azazel, Nick, and Raven each stood and clapped. “Congratulations, Champion! Now, what is it that you wish for?” Nick and Raven shook their heads, and together disappeared.
“We have more power up for grabs. More deals, at better prices. Almost anything within my power.”
He panted. “I want….to be able to own someone…body mind and soul…at a whim…able to steal it from its resting place and make it mine…then they can pay…those people i can’t kill…make them shells…what they deserve.”
Azazel looked down at Bucky with something akin to surprise. “Well little hero, you surprise me today.” He pulled a parchment and quill out of his sleeve, making a few lines of contract and then passing it down to Bucky via magic. “Sign on the dotted line. I have, mind you, added a few clauses. Myself and my three compatriots who witnessed your fight today will be immune to this new power. Have fun.”
Clapping his hands, he disappeared and a portal opened for Bucky to leave, back to wherever he was at when Azazel stole him.
Nick sat next to Azazel, Raven on the other side. “Father don’t you think it’d be best to give him a little more help?” It was rare for him to call him father, and Azazel was surprised.
“I could, I guess. Fine. I’ll take away the hordes.” Standing, he made his way to the edge of the dais and made a smoothing gesture with his hands. The ground in the arena instantly closed, the reaching arms and hands disappearing beneath it. “Though if he fails I’m making him one of the undead down there for the next one. He has some skill.”
Bucky sighed and dropped down, scooping up the blade and rolling away as a tendril of darkness shot at him, brushing him and burning the skin, leaving a black burn and making him stumble as strength rushed out of him. “Damn…” he muttered as he struggled to pull himself up, but not quickly enough. Another grabbed his ankle and pulled him down hard, dragging him as he was reduced to almost a rag doll. He choked as he struggled to breathe, being pulled closer to the creature. He gritted his teeth and reached into a pouch and pulled out a syringe. He panted heavilly before stabbing it into his chest, the amphetamine-adrenaline combo shot into his heart and he jerked up, pupils dilating as he got close. He ripped a grenade off his belt, used a lace from his pants to strap it to the knife and threw it just under the monster before jumping high into the air and behind the wall of the arena. The white light that poured out after the explosion would’ve blinded anyone who’d been looking and of lesser caliber. He jumped up when the smoke cleared about to cheer, before the small boost wore off, and he fell the 20 feet dead onto his back as he ran out of juice. “i w~iiinnnn” he panted heavily.
Azazel, Nick, and Raven each stood and clapped. “Congratulations, Champion! Now, what is it that you wish for?” Nick and Raven shook their heads, and together disappeared.
“We have more power up for grabs. More deals, at better prices. Almost anything within my power.”
((That awkward moment when Captain America is kinkier than Azazel.
whoops. ))
I JUST CAN’T DO IT OKAY?
I MEAN IF HE WAS A FULLY WILLING PARTNER THEN MAYBE.
I feel too icky though writing it since it’s really otherwise. >.>
Bucky was glad he wasn’t on the arena floor. “Ice wonderful, i love being frozen.” He chuckled and looked up at the three.
Mateus melted away, seeping into the ground.
“You’ve done well, so far.” Azazel commented. “But, I’m next, and I’m not near as nice. Be careful where you step now, Bucky. And don’t listen to the wails of the damned, they’ll kill you.”
Bucky took the ear muffs and the dagger, jumping back on the wall. This was new. “Any clues on how to finish off this thing…?” He pulled out a gun and fired a few shots. This didn’t seem fair…this thing only looked solid half the time it stood there, he couldn’t hear anything, which he DID NOT like. But the crawling things didn’t seem to have the ability to climb the walls so he had that.
Azazel reclined back to watch, every now and then picking off any of the undead that looked like they were getting too close to escaping the grounds. He had a tentative, at best, control of the situation and that suited him just fine actually.
Bucky sighed. Alright, hard way, just fine with him. He pulled a new gun off his belt and painted it behind himself at a high pillar, the grappling hook shot into the pillar and jerked him up to the high vantage point. He recoiled the gun quickling and fired, just over the thing at the midst of the writhing mass of bodies. He pulled the nife he’d been given before, shining brightly. Heart or head he wondered to himself…decapitation seemed like a good idea…and if that didn’t work…
He looked at the dead at the creatures feet…and the fissure in the ground. Long fall…probably not back to kansas todo…He tightened his grip on the knife. Had to live through this if he wanted to see Kate again. He closed his eyes and focused on that, that was what was going to get him through this. He gripped the zip line he’d made up and jumped, whirring at the thing. He opened his eyes just in time to slice a the creature in a flicker of solidness….Before he SLAMMED into the wall. It knocked the air out of him, snapping his line as well, in a split second his brain made the choice and he dropped the bright dagger into the arena to grab onto the edge of the top of the wall.
Nick sat next to Azazel, Raven on the other side. “Father don’t you think it’d be best to give him a little more help?” It was rare for him to call him father, and Azazel was surprised.
“I could, I guess. Fine. I’ll take away the hordes.” Standing, he made his way to the edge of the dais and made a smoothing gesture with his hands. The ground in the arena instantly closed, the reaching arms and hands disappearing beneath it. “Though if he fails I’m making him one of the undead down there for the next one. He has some skill.”
Azazel lounged in his Tower office, waiting for Anthea to be led up from below. He had Raven escort her, to supply a familiar face in unfamiliar circumstance, so as not to throw her off her game. He wanted her top-notch after all, to supply the little mutant with the perfect deal.
He was busily scrabbling away clauses and ideas in a notebook. She was special, this Anthea, because he truly didn’t want to screw her over like he screwed others on a daily basis, both figuratively and literally. There was a special air about her, and past her veil of childish innocence a formidable intellect that he found to be utterly charming.
The crystal on his desk flashed on, an image of the Incarnate leading Anthea up the Tower steps swimming in it’s dark depths. “Ah, she comes!” he crowed, popping open a bottle of sweet cordial with a wave of his hand.
Anthea took great comfort in being led through Azazel’s world by a person that she knew, otherwise her panic would have risen to insurmountable heights and she would have never made it past the threshold. But with the added comfort, Anthea was as confident and as clever as always with her head held high and her shoulders pulled back in a relaxed, but poised way.
Her slight nervousness and fear didn’t show through (which she was increasingly proud of) as she ascended the steps of the Tower until the redhead finally came to a stop at her destination. With a long, deep inhale, Anthea closed her eyes and let a moment of peace overcome her — no thoughts, no worries, no calculations, just pure peace and quiet — and then released the air in her lungs all at once before knocking on Azazel’s door at last.
The door opened automatically, halfway through Anthea’s knocking. Azazel looked up at her, his human disguise on to alleviate the situation, so when he smiled it looked less threatening. The fangs, they kind of ruined a lot of situations.
“Anthea, do come in child.” He stood, waving for Raven to bring her through the door. “Have a seat, a glass of ruby cordial. Let us discuss the terms of your deal. I think I remember you saying something about protection? I happen to have a lot of deals that are as such, so you’re dealing with an expert. Somewhat pun intended.”
Last Nightwing set, I promise! I just felt the need to post this to get it done and say “Shit I don’t like how I look, but whatever, it was fun.”
Anyways, hopefully these show of how much of a goofy dude I am.
Enjoy~*is playing the spot 4th Wall Design’s masks game*
