Complicated homecoming...

[superstylishsquid]

It had been years since Alastor had last seen this town, bustling with humans and reeking of demons. It was almost comforting...if not for the fact that he knew his master was here. The master he'd abandoned without a word, who would be fully justified in striking him down for his insubordination. But it wasn't in Alastor's nature to run. He'd had his taste of freedom, now it was time to face the consequences. If he was lucky, maybe he could come out on top this time and be truly free.

But that would be once he entered Devil May Cry, something he would wait until daytime for. He didn't want to catch his master just returning from a demon hunt and ready to shoot anything that had fangs and claws. So in the darkness of the desert night, he stood atop a building across from the Devil Hunter's shop. His senses were attuned for any hint of magic approaching him, but he might not register an ordinary human right away.

Comments

[superstylishschism]

About twelve, not counting the horns. I can move at a crouch pretty well like that, but it's really more convenient all around if I just stick to a human height.

[patricided]

What is with you guys and being ridiculously tall?

[No she is not jealous that all the demons in her life tower over her, nope not at all.]

[superstylishschism]

I dunno, I always thought humans were kind of short.

[patricided]

I'm not short.

[pouts]

[superstylishschism]

Compared to things in the underworld? We have vermin that are fifty feet long. Most of the people are at least the size of a truck, you're not likely to find many demons with personal names that are naturally under seven feet tall unless they used to be human.

[patricided]

I'm perfectly average by human standards. And I'm more than capable of taking down demons two or three times my size.

[And that pout is just going to get bigger, here. She's not short damnit.]

[superstylishschism]

I'm not saying you're not, size isn't everything after all. It's just a different scale down there.

And for what it's worth, part of what I like about humans is that you don't have to be huge or powerful to do amazing things.

[patricided]

[She shoves him. Now he's just doing that on purpose isn't he?]

I'm sorry did you say something?

[superstylishschism]

Your mind wander off that fast? And you call me ADD.

[patricided]

Selectively ADD, it's entirely different to you two.

[superstylishschism]

You just find certain things horribly distracting, huh?

[patricided]

I don't know what you're talking about.

[superstylishschism]

You don't, huh? I guess you also don't know where that joke at breakfast came from?

[patricided]

Nope. I don't have a clue where it came from.

[superstylishschism]

Riiiiight.

*He believes you, sure.*

Well, I should probably go get washed up, before the pillow finishes assimilating me into itself.

[patricided]

[Sighing she rolls away]

You know where the bathroom is, have at it.

[superstylishschism]

*He stands up, then looks back with a mischievous smirk.*

Not going to show me there? I'll bet you'd enjoy the chance to get another good look at my back...

[patricided]

[Getting up she pads out of the room and motions for him to follow her down the short hall to her bathroom.]

I think you can figure out how to work the shower on your own, right?

[superstylishschism]

*He shrugs and heads in, using his tail to close the door behind him. A minute or so later, the shower starts up. Hopefully she won't mind if he steams up the bathroom...*

[patricided]

[She doesn't mind. When he finally comes out of the bathroom, Lady is curled up on the couch with a book balanced on her knees. The text making it obvious she had a job that she was doing research for. Try not to be too surprised by the text being non-English.]

[superstylishschism]

*He's not exactly surprised, no. When he comes back out, quite a bit later, he's put his pants back on but is carrying his shirt under one arm. There's a towel over his hair, which probably looks extra silly because it's under his horns, but shut up. And, of course, his wings are dripping slightly.

None of that stops him from glancing over her shoulder to see what language that book is in.*

[patricided]

[It's in Italian and not modern Italian either. And clearly an original text if the gloves she's wearing and the newly pulled shades are anything to go by. There's a legal pad and pen on her coffee table, lines of text copied over with words circled and notes around them connected by lines and arrows to the original. Some are scratched out like she changed her mind about meaning or understanding.

She doesn't look up from what she's doing when he joins her, though she is aware that he's hovering over her shoulder as she carefully turns another thin page.]

Glad I took my shower first.

[superstylishschism]

I don't think I used all the hot water?

*He'll just lean himself on the couch, careful not to bump her while she's handling something so fragile.*

That's some sort of Italian, right?

[patricided]

That's alright.

Fifteenth century. Straight from the church. Sometimes they actually get things right about the less pleasant members of your species.

[superstylishschism]

Sometimes. I tend not to trust churches on matters of the supernatural in general, though. Too much of people writing what they wanna believe.

Then again, humans supposedly still practiced magic back then, so maybe they did have something right. Assuming the successful summoners lived to tell what they saw...