goddamngrenades | RP Open Post

[OOC: Demon AU!]

Talons tapped lightly across the floor as the demon explored her summoner's home in the dark.

It wasn't particularly impressive apartment and hadn't taken her long to map out in detail even in the dark. While he was in possession of several rooms, the central area was slovenly and joined with the kitchen, and the sleeping chamber was small and dark, with an attached bathing room.

From how he'd described it, his dwelling was within a greater tower, high up within a city who's name she hadn't bothered to memorize. She would have to correct that, if she was to reside here for any length of time.

She paused by the couch, tail flicking as she eyed the Book where it was presently doubling as a drinks matt for several empty beer cans on the floor. The demonicon had yet to be burned, but there was still time for that. She smirked to herself a moment, barring fangs. Her aforementioned summoner was presently snoring away and in spite of sealing their pact over beer, and she rather doubted he expected her to be here come morning.

She wasn't entirely sure what sort of binding effect ketchup would have compared to blood, either. But, she could wait. For now, she wasn't going anywhere. And he was interesting enough that she didn't particularly want to.

It'd been a prank. Or something for a research paper. Or something he'd done when those weird 'herbal' cigarettes that smelled a little more like incense and less like clove he got from the shop the book was from mellowed him out past being able to make good life choices. Not that he needed much help in that area. Between the bullshit that is his new 'job' and his class schedule (coming back to school after his stint in the army was a fan fucking tastic idea who told him to do that again? oh right. Drew) he hasn't really been doing the best at that.

And then the dream about summoning a demon. Which. Was weird as shit but okay, he's had weirder in the war. The red hair and eyes kinda helped in that they didn't help at all. Names he'd rather forget.

SLeep never kept on that long, he twitches out of it soon enough, locking up tight for all of five seconds until he remembers where he is and what was goin on. The lack of a demon in front of him seemed to help. Just a dream. Ok. "Need to stop drink'n the cheap tequila, York."

Her head twitched round at the sound of movement, head canting to one side. Ah. Someone was awake. Or nearly, if the uneven footsteps were any judge.

For all that she'd been given free rein of the place, she wasn't inclined to barge into his chambers just to ask him questions about new technology. It had advanced considerably since the last time she'd been summoned, and she wanted to know exactly what this new version of a camera could do.

That didn't meant she enjoyed being patient, however. She extended and rewrapped her wings for comfort before settling back on the couch. Forked tail flicked sharply, knocking over a couple of bottles and beer cans in its wake while she examined her talons.

"Maxine? Max get off the sofa...damn cat." Small and black with big green eyes and is currently...sitting. Next to him. Not out in the next room.

"...shit-" he grabs the bat he leaves stowed by the door and inches out, calling ahead of him. "Look if you want money I'm broke, if you want anything valuable I don't have anything so just save yourself the beating and get the hell out before I...um. You. Aren't. A burgler."

No. No she's a demon.

On his sofa.

"...wasn't a dream."

"You dream of demons often?"

Her tail curled up, curled around her leg, while dark red hair shifted over cyan scales as she tipped her head at him. Entirely unbothered by the prospect of a heavy bat being applied, though one claw lifts to wag at him. Ah ah ah, now.

"You invited me. You remember that much, I hope."

"Only during finals." The quip comes out easy as anything while the rest of his mind makes a mad scramble to put together what the hell he'd done last night and-

The book, the KETCHUP, the everything. Shit. That worked? That worked.

And now there's an extremely attractive demon on my sofa with claws and scales and really pretty eyes and oh shit this is gonna end bad

"...I think I've seen this horror movie. Did I offer my soul? Tell me I didn't offer my soul. I wasn't that drunk, was I?"

There's something that might be kin to disappointment as she stares at him, her gaze sharpening somewhat while her facial features don't so much as twitch a hair. Even her tail refrains from movement now she's focused her attention on him.

A very pretty face, but apparently one with less substance between the ears than his words had implied last night.

There's a rather lazy gesture towards the device he'd left configured on the other side of the room. "Assuming your device still works, I am sure that it will reveal all."

He inches around, skirting the sofa and the demon on it till he gets to the camera. Rewinds. Hits playback and-

"Huh."

Okay it worked.

Shit.

"....this wasn't supposed to work."

"You said that already."

Spoken from directly behind him.

Her wings are still folded about her body, and now her arms are folded across her chest, expression nonchalant. "You did not even use traditional materials for the summoning, though you certainly set the glyphs and ward markers correctly."

"Is there a history of magecraft in your family?" That would perhaps explain things.

"holyshit-" He jerks and whirls, hands going up, palm out- not an attack and not entirely a cringe. This isn't supposed to be his life this isn't supposed to work he has SEEN these movies he's gonna die. He's gonna die and it's gonna suck. "Look pig's blood is surprisingly hard to come by in this day and age- I mean after last semester's reenactment of carrie at one of the sorority parties."

A beat.

"I wasn't involved I just heard the screaming." The question throws him more than a little but- well. "...there was this one aunt that was a little weird. Never spent a lotta time around her but maybe?"

She doesn't flinch, lifting an eyebrow at the hand gestures and the run on sentences. "We have an accord," she reminds him, tail lashing as faint irritation rose. "You are the one who called me here. Invited me to stay. One sealed upon drinking." As the empty cans and bottles can testify.

She pauses, eyes him again, then sniffs. "You are fortunate, really. Had you summoned a succubus or lesser demon of gluttony, you won't be here to have this conversation now. And frankly, I rather prefer two decades of dinners to the usual requests of slaughter and assassination."

Though she doubted she'd have much reason to find intrigue here.

An aunt? It did tend to carry strongest in mortal females.. "Through your paternal or maternal line?"

"Like a crank call! you know you phone someone you don't know and spin a line of bullshit if they answer but you don't ever expect someone to actually. You know. Answer." But he'd called and she'd come and she's HERE and they have an accord? Man he should've listened to weird aunt Rose.

"Mom's mom and she's gonna be pissed." He scrubs his face and slumps back over on the nearest sofa. "Something she used to tell me that didn't make any sense but woah, now it does. 'Don't cast in your cups.' Which I think means 'don't do magic while drunk.' So yeah. She's gonna be mad."

So angry. Okay. He summoned a demon.

on accident.

While drunk.

"You mentioned dinner. What do you eat? If it's like, newborns I can't help but if you like pizza that I can do."

"No, I do not know." The answer is incredibly blunt. "Nor do I eat babies. While humans might like to pass judgements and such prejudice against those who inhabit other planes, I would expect my summoner to at least be respectful."

And given how her eyes start to glow, it's rather clear York's erred on the side of rudeness, apparently. "Are all mortals foolhardy idiots such as you?" Accompanied by an acidic glare as the man flops down on the sofa. Whoops. There's a note of..something, in her voice. Disappointment, perhaps, or something close to it. "You really have no idea what you've done, have you."

Let's pay no attention to the black kitty cautiously trotting over, sizing up an ankle, then rubbing up against it without so much as a care in the world.

Okay, demon has a point. He's being a dick. A needless dick. He's hung over and confused and cranky but that's no excuse for being an ass. So he shoves his headache and his muddled memories to the back of his skull.

"Your summoner's been pumped full of bullshit pop culture when it comes to demons since he was...four? And is kind of an asshole. Not that it excuses being- speciesist? racist? There's an IST going on here I just don't have a word for it but that doesn't excuse the fact that I was an ass and am still being an ass, I'm sorry. I'm- kind of out of my depth here. Please sit? Can I get you some coffee or something?" Being of infernal power in his livingroom and he's being a jackass. Only York.

Okay so discount pop culture. Crazy Aunt rose was, apparently, not crazy. What'd she say?

Most of what he remembers involves faries and rings of stones and wee folk and something called a Morrigan that gave him nightmares for a month but he's got fuck and all on hand in his memory banks for demons. Or summoning.

"Most mortals are, yeah. We ride on self-delusion and booze. And- yeah. No idea what I've done. Wasn't entirely sober hence doing it in the first place. And using ketchup- that's gonna take forever to get out of the carpet. Way to go, past me. usually when I get drunk and do something dumb I'm the only one stuck dealing with the fallout so. I'm sorry you got caught up in this."

She's not particularly mollified by his excuses, especially if her glare is anything to go by. But after a minute of staring him down, her wings tighten across her form and she turns, taloned feet stepping lightly over carpet. No, she's not sitting, yet, but she won't loom.

For all that he has a few good inches on her.

Instead, she stops and eyes the circle smudged inexpertly at her feet --the runes are atrocious, for all that the binding marks are correctly placed-- before tilting up her chin. "Had you slanted these in the opposite direction, you would not have lived long past midnight." He does not appear harmed, but: "Are you certain you did not spill blood?"

"Most mortals are not capable of calling into the higher planes and opening a tear large enough to allow for reconvergence." It was not her first foray into this world, after all. Then after a some consideration, she shrugs. "..Don't be. This state of affairs is far preferable to being summoned on the whim of impotent men who's only demands are gold, assassination or power, or some combination there of."

And without a single thought about the consequences. Then again, this one wasn't all that different in that respect.

"What do I call you." Master isn't an option, green eyes warn with a hint of glow.

"Nnnnnot on purpose." He tries to think back and wanders back over to the camera, rewinding the footage and viewing the setup. "Ketchup, all of it. I do remember trying to get goat's blood from the butcher's but they don't deliver and for some reason I had to do it last night. So if there's blood and it's mine it was an accident- I say having summoned you on accident in the first place." Something about the moon? The stars being in alignment? There are some pages about the weather and phase of the moon in a journal on the table so that might be it.

Thing one: Make sure no one gets his notes. Seriously. Someone could fuck themselves up and if even HE can do it? Not a good sign for anyone else.

"What, is that the usual demand? Wow. Douchy." Like having no idea what to ask for is better. "Um...Is this one of those 'true names grant power' things or is that only the fey? I don't know where the lines fall in supernatural creatures."

After a moment he shrugs and settles on an empty space on the sofa. "Fuck it. Anything happens I kind of earned it. My name's Taylor but most people call me York. Nice to meet you miss...? What do I call you?"

Not as dumb as he thinks he is then, if he remembers something as obscure as that. Though he had not granted his full name, just two by which he was best known. But that he would then in turn ask for hers...? To have summoned her at all, he had to know her true name, needed it to invoke the control spells to bind her to his service. Was that, too, a mistake on his part?

Just...recklessness. Such things would get him killed, like as not. Yet there was an appeal there, in spite of her nature.

Her lips purse a moment, green eyes dark beneath demon-long lashes, before there is a shrug of aqua-blue shoulders. "It is for the one that summoned me to grant me a name. Call me what you will." But there's still an undertone, something underscored by the lash of her tail, that make it clear that what she expects is 'demon', nothing like a name.

Just don't make it dumb, honestly. Wings still settled, she moves towards the sofa, taking the opposite empty space. There's a soft hisssss as she walks past the tomato circle on the floor, before it begins to flake, the particles floating upwards and crackling until they disappear.

No stain left to explain to the landlord. "So, York, what is it that you do here?"

"Huh." Okay, he needs to make sure it doesn't suck. Also the- circle is gone now.

No clean up.

that is really fucking WEIRD wow.

He starts collecting bottles from around the sofa and shoving them in a trash bag hanging off the back that's used for that express purpose, still mulling over the whole 'name' thing. Needs to not suck. Needs to be a NAME.

"Uh. Debunk urban legends and mythology and shit like that. Hence the having a book on the summoning of demons. Shit goes around on the internet like 'Charlie Charlie' or 'Bloody Mary' and I do the thing, tape the thing, tape nothing happening and go 'hey this is bullshit stop wasting time and go play outside like sane people'. It's not much but it pays the bills. That and I sorta study mythology and folklore and stuff but that was all three semesters ago and right now I'm on a journalism track so...I'm. Gonna have to bullshit the hell out of this one cuz no way am I putting a tape of me actually summoning a legit demon while DRUNK online. People will die. Also I imagine it'd suck for you, right? All these people ask'n you for shit." He's distantly aware that this is the most he's spoken to anyone all at once since the last failed roomate. Huh.

"Carolina!" He snaps his fingers. "That's what I'll call you. Carolina."

She wouldn't have been able to remove it at all had man and cat not smudged the line. As it is, she's content to lounge against the arm of the couch as York does a little bit of clean-up, occasionally nudging a fallen bottle so that it rolls along the floor towards him.

"So you are a, reverse witch hunter? You reveal false heresies?" It's rather a turn up for the books. If magery wasn't held in high esteem, those that cast it were recluses, hunted down for the power at their disposal. It's clear however from the way her brow knits and the crest of scales along her forehead shift that she isn't familiar with the 'internet', or taping.

Still, if this is 'work', pity to waste it. "Perhaps save it for such a day that a summoning in your profession would be expected to work?" Samhain, perhaps, or the winter solstice. "People will only die if that is your wish," she gives a dismissive wave of a clawed hand. "You and I have a pact. Short of your death or mine, or someone of greater power forcing a break of the pact to turn me to their service, such things are unlikely."

Then green eyes blink, and she stares a long moment. She had requested a name. "Carolina," she repeats, as those testing it.

"For the most part, yeah. Some stuff has actually worked before- harmless stuff. Good luck charms, weather wishes, lighting a candle by blowing on it but I figured it was cuz of something in the wick. The people that believe in it get validation, everyone else says I'm using special effects to make shit happen. So it's kind of a win-win. People that know what they're doing get to know what does work and what doesn't, everyone else thinks I'm cool shit." A fraud, but cool shit. He can live with that.

"Uh. There's not that much call for demon summoning anymore. Not really. At least not that I know of? It's not exactly something I'd be comfortable proving to be true, which is where the journalisim segment comes in handy." He will lie his ass off if he needs to in order to bury this tape. First he needs to hide the damn thing, it wasn't supposed to work at all.

Next he's gotta find the rest of the copies of this book and hide THOSE too. Fun.

It's easy to roll around in his head while he picks up cans and bottles and to-go containers- yeah maybe he needs to get out a little more. "Mhmm. Carolina. It's a state- well one of two states in the US. Last roomie that stuck was from there. So was a squadmate back from my time in the military. So. You're stuck with me, Carolina. Unless that's not gonna work then I'll think of something else."

Harmless. There's a hint of fang in the smile flashed at him. "You have an interesting definition of 'safe'. Even such things can be used for ill, you know." And not so much a fraud as he might otherwise have believed before now.

He did, after all, summon her.

He'll find no objections to his hiding of evidence. Not being summoned by others would be a bonus, and those who don't know what they are doing god very very easily end up dead due to who they call upon. There are horror movies involving tentacles for a reason. "Perhaps you could speak on the impracticality of summoning. Particularly in this modern era." Make fun of it, perhaps. It's almost sad that he would not use the 'video', but then, keeping one's abilities secret was no surprise to her.

Carolina. Not someone else's name to inhereit in this case, but a 'state'. A land in fact (two?). "Carolina," she says again, savouring it, before smiling - actual, genuine smile, brief but real. "Acceptable."

"You gotta know the right rules for reversal for luck and weather. Besides- if someone already knows what they're doing and are strong enough to make a big thing of it? They aren't watch'n my shit." At least he hopes not. The thoughts' enough for him to mark the 'maybe hide this shit' to 'def hide this shit'.

Of course the idea of a strong mage before now was kind of impractical to him but- if he could do this? Someone that knew better could too.

But hey, there's an idea. Impractical summoning. Could make it funny. That'd get him paid and make this less of a waste. Yeah. "That is a really good idea. Thanks Carolina!"

He grins over the back of the sofa at her, scooping up the last of the bottles and food containers before knotting the bag up. "So if you're stuck with me till I die or you die or whatever you're probably gonna need a room. Which is good, cuz I have a spare. Mostly I keep books in there but I can move 'em out if you wanna decorate and make it cozy for you."

Hmm. He has a point. Of course: "Or they watch, to see how much you truly know. To see if you might be a threat." Because that's not worrying or anything.

Smile becomes a smirk at the thanks, and she shrugs lightly. "Make sure it will be useful before offering praise." But she's certain he can make it work. Humour of course will always be subjective.

"I suppose," the offer of a room is..unusual. Most summoners have never cared for her requirements beyond basic sustinance. But to offer her a room? "..Sleep isn't something I require much of. But if you have no other use for the space, I can make do."

"Even if you don't need to sleep you still have a right to privacy, right?" No reason for him to demand her to hang around him all damn day. It'd get boring for her pretty quick. "Just lemme know if you want the books in or out and if you need like. Furniture or antyhing. I think there's a desk in there and a twin sized bed."

"Books can remain," reading isn't something she's had much opportunity to do either. Though her amusement is plain. "You think?" One would think he'd have a better idea to the contents of his property.

"so what is Journalism? What is the purpose of such study?"

York + Carolina - Summoned Demon AU

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