Deathless (Open Thread)

[Maximillian]

(OoC- Anyone is welcome to join. Any Gods, Demons, or Angels are invited cordially to play.)

Max sat quietly, staring at the pale faced man, who stared, black eyed back. Max's green eyes burning a hole in the man's own voids, who while unflinching, was bound to a chair with iron manacles.

The blond man was bound in an old chair, a single light hanging in what seemed to be some sort of abandoned building. In Detroit, these were surplus. Well over 70,000 buildings in total being totally left to time and those who would claim them.

Decay was obvious as paint was falling off the walls, chipped and worn. Wooden planks held together as best they could, splinters mold and moisture having taken their toll on them.

Max's cold stare looked at the man without expression for awhile both sat in silence.

"Call them."

"Burn in Hell."
Was the response he got.

"I'm sure I will. But not before you call them.

"Kid, you have no idea what you are playing with.

Max was patient with him and took a step forward, raised a hand and planted a fist directly in the man's throat. It was not a powerful strike, but the Demon reacted all the same. He fell back in his chair, almost as if he had been run over by a car.

Max held up his hand and let a small golden charm with various old symbols on them.

"Call them, or this will take a very long time."

"YOU FUCKING IDIOT! IF I CALL THEM, THEY'LL KILL US BOTH!"

"If you do not call them, I will kill you."

He moved to the man, placing himself over his head, turning him into nothing more than a silhouette.

"You don't get it. I need someone stronger than a fucking grunt like you. I need to know!"

The Demon was confused. Confused at how a human could not only capture a demon, but would still be so utterly mad. He just kept repeating that same phrase. Call them. "Them" here having the meaning of his bosses. Anyone who had any real power. But to do so would invite death to the caller.

Max lifted the man back up and walked out of the light. He returned with a syringe and needle, a 30cc amount of clear fluid occupied it's space inside.

He injected it into the man's neck and pushed it in. The man screamed bloody murder and began to steam as Holy Water entered his blood.

"Blessed water in tainted blood...yeah. I imagine it would be painful."


He withdrew and let the stuff work on the Demon's system. He stood, silent and waiting, just outside the circle of light.

"Call them."


A scream of pain was his only reply.

[Rennia Trayvold]

A dark clad woman sat perched a dozen feet off the ground in total darkness. Her eyes fell upon a pair of individuals underneath the light. One of them was what appeared to be a demon, the other, someone clearly interested in finding more like the other man. The fiendish fellow was obviously a prisoner to the other man, unless he liked allowing himself to be shackled and interrogated.

The female chuckled softly to herself as she heard the man yelling at the demon to 'call them'. The demon was right. Calling more would be foolish, but it was too late for that wasn't it? There was already another here, and she was none too pleased with what she saw. The fool was pathetic to allow himself to be caught by a hunter. They were the sort that got the other demons caught in the first place.

Then it happened. She watched as the man began injecting something into the demon. Even from here the faint scent of holy water managed to bite at her nose. The bastard. The woman reached over her shoulder and pulled out a long wooded pole that had a thick cord wrapped around it's length loosely. She quickly unwrapped the cord and, balancing carefully, set one end against the pole she was balancing upon, and pulled down on the other. With the cord still attached at one length, it was pulled tight as she snapped it around the other end. The result was the unmistakable form of a longbow.

She picked up the weapon by the handle and reached back once more to pull out an arrow. Unlike normal arrows, this one seemed to be constructed entirely out of alloy metals, save for the fetching. The head of the arrow was also different in that it was dual barbed. That is, it had barbs facing both directions, making removing it painful and bloody no matter which way it went.

She quickly nocked the arrow and slowly pulled back on the string. The bow didn't make a sound. At least not one anyone but the demon would hear. Within the fool's mind a faint song would begin to form. At first the words would be unrecognizable, though the music still sinisterly grim. She aimed the weapon at the bound man's head, intending on putting him out before he did spill anything useful... but she didn't release... yet.

[Rae-Star Berii]

There was something going on with the other hunters at the moment; twice Rae had met others who had been ‘affected’ by Vampyres, and twice they had attacked her. She had fought and killed people like her. This did not sit well with Rae. She was not the sort of hunter who enjoyed killing, rather she was on a private mission, but when a new hunter had moved into her patch and had very quickly started making targets of the subspecies Rae had become interested in his movements. Never hunt a hunter, her father had always said. It was dangerous, hunters are paranoid and clever creatures, and it was the only way they survived. Rae had learnt this code and used it to her advantage as she had followed the hunter and as she sank back in the shadows watching as he tormented his prey.

Well, that was her reason for being here considered and already she liked the other hunter’s style. While she may not agree with the unnecessary torment he was going after a higher power daemon. Rae had personal business with several of those and she would really like to find a quicker way of getting to a few of them and darting them with holy water- or cutting off their heads. But she wasn’t sure this was even going to work; daemons weren’t known for squealing on their own, they’d take it to the death with them. After all, they were creations of hell, she wasn’t even sure they feared death.

“He’s right you know.” She said, stepping out of her hiding place finally. The girl was small, five foot and slender. In large biker boots, black on black leathers she managed to look somewhat like she knew what she was talking about. “You don’t want to meet the others, not like this.” She lifted her hood from her hair, revealing the skittle colours and her startling chocolate eyes and stepped cautiously forwards; “kill him and be done with your business here before you bite off more than you can chew.”

For a moment, a very childish one, she had considered pretending to be a daemon; as of yet she had not identified herself in anyway; let’s see whose side the hunter was one and if he had been ‘affected’ yet.

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[Maximillian]

Max paused for a moment, a strange look suddenly washing across his face. One of a relaxed confusion. His brow furrowed and he dove his right hand into his pocket and pulled out a small glowing rock. It gave off an eerie white hue that did nothing to fend off the darkness. He grew still for a moment and took a deep breath.

A wave of rage rushed through him with the next beat of his heart. Fury that was seen only in a glimpse was gone by the next stroke. He turned his head slightly, a few audible pops piercing the darkness. He took a step forward, replacing the rock in his pocket. His foot extended in a shaky manner, hinting that his anger had not entirely abated as of yet.

But, by the next step his cool demeanor had returned. He strode up to the man and bent down to his level, met his eye for a moment, and in a flash had drawn a scalpel from his jacket pocket and slashed across the left eyeball of the "demon."

A black liquid oozed out slowly for a moment before growing thick, like molasses and actually reversing itself back into the eye.

His jaw clenched.

"You lied to me."

"I swear, I'm gonna love ripping apart, bit by fucking b-"

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His voice was cut off by Max's hand actually plunging itself into the man's throat, all the way up to mid forearm. He turned to address a voice he had not noticed until just that moment.

What a scene that must have been. A man, literally caught with his arm down another man's throat. A feat that should have been impossible by any means. The thing that made it stranger still, was not only Max's odd clothing, a fine suit, but his demeanor.

"That might be so, miss."

He dove his arm further down, all the way up to the elbow now. The "demon" did not even gag. Simply sat there, his eyes locked on Max.

The Gentleman did not alter his stance, standing still bolt upright, perfect posture and stature befitting one of grace and class.

"But this one here lied to me. He is no Demon...yet."

He lurched for a moment, as though something had grabbed him.

"When human energy condenses in negative or positive-"

He pulled his arm out a little, with obvious effort. His neck began to strain. He was obviously not a very strong fellow.

"It can be given sentience...and form."

He pulled his arm hard, ripping a black slime covered thing from the bound man's mouth. The body went limp as he did so.

Max did not seem repulsed by the oozing black that was all the way up his suit.

"And it can poison people."

He began removing his suit coat, allowing the thing to be balled up.

"This..."

He spoke, as the hand that once bore his small insignia hewn talisman was not clean, even of the black goo as the jacket hit the floor.

"Is a number of human spirits who were twisted and corrupted...Attempting to be evil. I thought their little ritual seemed odd for a demon to be performing, but had hoped I was wrong...but this..."

He lifted the stone again, no longer glowing.

"Didn't work..."

He offered no more explanation than that on what it was or how it was used. He paused, sniffing the air.

His nostrils flared, and his eyes began to dart around the room.

"Regardless of whether or not it was wise to ask to speak to one of the Demons on this realm..."

He motioned to the darkness where he had just stood a moment before. A slight vibration could be heard. Almost as if a pot, or some hollow earthen thing was shaking, ever so slightly.

"One has joined us."

He moved out of the single circle of light and returned with an Urn engraved with symbols that even a Demon would call "ancient." He grasped the largely unremarkable sand colored thing, and pulled the lid off. In some sort of hellish motion never before seen, the darkness of the room was drive back by several lights that all came rushing out of the clay pot. They flashed across the building and returned to what had appeared to be burnt out light bulbs.

Light blazed now, illuminating all corners of the relatively small warehouse. Several new crates filled with artifacts of unknown origin in a semi-circle surrounded what could best be described as a surgical site.

Dozens of tools for surgery both large and small lay neatly organized next to crates filled with hay and things that were old beyond knowing. A single plate, filled with a red liquid sat on the ground, slowing spinning on it's edge, never spilling a drop of that ruby red liquid.

Max cast his eyes around quickly and located the one who caused the warning device to sound. He tapped his skull, just at the temple as he made eye contact.

"I thought I smelled some sort of music in the air."

Suddenly his cool exterior crumbled by the almost senile statement he had just blurted out. Smelt music on the air?

Then, a sort of curious look crossed his face.

"How did you manage to not set off that one?"

He pointed to a large oriental style gong that was, in all reality, just that. No other properties about it.

Max puzzled this for a split second then realized his error.

"Oh. I see..."

He stomped on his jacket, causing a high pitched squeal to pierce the air.

"Do be quiet...We have company."

He rubbed his foot on the malice incarnate, now helpless, caught with the artifact he had used to pull it out.

He motioned to the far side of the room, where two rather...lavish chairs sat on either side of not only a chess board, but a small table that had some amount of various confections covered.

"You are both quite welcome to join me in this. But..."

He looked from the pink haired girl to the woman who had him trained in her sights.

He locked eyes with the bow and arrow wielder.

"You..."

He lifted a finger and pointed at her. Though no real energy came of it, a sort of mental pressure could be sensed. That sort of feeling one gets when they know they are being stared at but cannot see where from.

The glittering emeralds behind his glasses honed in on her, focusing like lasers. He had no special powers. Just a lot of special and old junk. He knew that. She knew that. Hell, the huntress beside him probably knew that.

Which made his declaration and abundance of confidence so...shocking. He spoke to a Demoness with such reckless abandon. Either he was utterly mad, or believed he had total control over the situation.

"...and I need to talk about some very important things."

He motioned to the chairs and tables between them and began to walk towards them, leaving all his other stuff behind, not even caring that the demon saw what she could.

Ancient demon traps, everything that could seal, banish, or even kill a demon lay in crates. This man had brought what looked like the ancient world with him. And yet...didn't bring even a single bit of it with him.

A pitiful voice came from his coat. It was weak and small, like a downsized person who was crying.

"It hurts....please....put me back...it hurts so much..."[/color]

Max stopped dead in his tracks, turned and spoke a single line from a language that could send chills up even the darkest creature's spine.

"Ry'leigh fdrokn wqusiton."

It came out like a sickening hiss. His lips hardly moved as the unintelligible dialect tainted the air. Visibly things grew darker for a moment as a sort of "lack of" anything opened up under his coat. In less than it takes to blink and eye, the coat and whatever was in it was sucked into the nothingness and was heard, felt, and seen no more.

"Sorry about that."

He beamed a cordial smile, and the light seemed to grow stronger again...at least, as strong as a building as decrepit as light in old Detroit could be.

"Now...if you would be so kind? I've set up a game of chess and some snacks, if you are feeling peckish."

He never flinched. Never batted an eye at the fact he was basically helpless in comparison to the demon he knew was there. He hardly even acknowledged the other woman who had entered after his demonstration of the vile spirit.

He continued to walk towards the "meeting" area he had arranged prior to the whole event, seemingly confident that the demon would follow.

Meanwhile that plate just kept spinning, that red liquid not so much as rippling within it, sending that slight shaking noise into the air.

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Now....

Max thought to himself.

We begin.

[Rennia Trayvold]

The woman watched the odd seen with a perked brow. The man was a demon hunter who relied on those old relics they made in by-gone days. Curious...came a thought from within the woman's mind. She had met plenty within her lifetime though none of them quite as... different as this fellow was. A part of her wondered just how touched he was in the head. Obviously more than a little given his eccentric behavior.

Then the woman frowned as the light flooded the room and her shadowy spot had been dispelled. She made no attempt to hide from the light and just stayed seated upon her perch. Seeing as the man had gone limp, the woman released the pressure from the bow without firing the arrow. She instead plucked it from it's spot and slid it back into the quiver on her back. She then slung the bow over her shoulder before reaching over to the side. There she picked up what was unmistakably a large rifle. Anyone with any form of experience might instantly recognize it for what it was. The Barrett M82/107 .50 caliber sniper rifle.

For a moment she considered simply sending a round downrange at the man, but instead she shook her head and dropped down onto the ground. Despite the plethora of objects that could be used to do her in, she was confident in that the man would never get the chance to try them against her. Perhaps she was a little bit arrogant, but she hadn't survived as long as she had just to be done in by this odd man.

Rennia had not however, expected the woman. Those red eyes turned towards the woman who'd previously offered a sound bit of advice for a man. She appeared to realize the risk the fiendish creatures presented to the known world, but despite of that, and a somewhat hesitant stance, she appeared curious never-the-less. Perhaps she planned on assisting the man. In which case Rennia would definitely have to be cautious of her.

After her moment of examining the other woman Rennia slowly strode forward, keeping her eye on the various devices before she stopped a fair distance from the table the man had motioned. She held the rifle in both hands, ready to bring it up and blow him away if need be.

"Smelled music on the air? That has to be a new one." The woman paused for a moment before continuing. "It takes quite a bit more than a few old dusty relics to match a Daemon of old. It's really no surprise that I've managed to occupy that corner for as long as I did. Regardless. What, pray tell, does someone such as yourself want from creatures way beyond his scope of understanding. And truly I wonder what it is you expect to gain from a private party."

The woman's gaze lingered on the man. Her piercing red eyes seeming to bore into his very soul. Yet in spite of that, they seemed to be equally without emotion. It was as if staring into the core of a person was just something that came natural to the fiendish woman. There was an air about the demoness that would set most normal people on edge. It seemed to be a mix, one part was natural, born from the way she talked, the way she stared. The other part seemed supernatural, as if a portion of her power leaked into the air and could set most people on edge. It allowed her to go from entirely unsuspecting, to frightening humans into telling their darkest secrets, and that was exactly what she planned to do...

[Maximillian]

A chill shot up Max's spine and caused him to grin wide. How cute. The demon used not only old day, but modern weaponry.

More than that, she felt the need to posture. His eyes flickered and locked onto hers.

Then there was that moment. That unmistakable feeling of something...more. His green eyes pierced just as far as hers, unlike any normal human. One could say it went even further. Whereas she may have looked to others with disdain, Max's own was more sinister still.

He looked at people, and indeed, even this Demon of Old, not as an entity deserving of respect...but with a cold calculation that made a person feel more like a thing than a who. His eyes bored into her own with such intensity, and yet, such cool refinement, all that could really be surmised about it is that he cared absolutely nothing for whatever passed for "life" of those he crossed paths with.

To one as old as she, it was entirely possible she could see it. He saw things as broken down bits of knowledge, something to be cut up and studied. Nothing more.

The moment stretched on for eternity and was over in the same instant. How long had it been? Minutes? Seconds? Less? Had he even actually met her gaze?

His grin never faded though, in whatever amount of time had passed. He moved towards the chair and took a seat in front of the chessboard which was, essentially empty, save only five pieces ; queen, rook and pawn on his opponent's side. Bishop and king on his.

He lifted the plastic lid and took out from under it what looked to be a sun dried tomato covered in some sort of oil.

Without much adieu, he popped it in his mouth and set the fork from which he had skewered it back down.

He continued only after the thing had been swallowed.

"Now..."

He turned and looked at the huntress who was still somewhere around. His eyes passed over her lazily, hardly even taking her in before settling back on the demon.

"You are old in terms only of this planet. But there are things much older still. Much darker."

He reached under the table then, and pulled from a small box a figurine. A statuette of sorts that even the demon could not deny as something shudder worthy, and yet, he held it as nothing.

It represented a monster of vaguely anthropoid outline, but with an octopus-like head whose face was a mass of feelers, a scaly, rubbery-looking body, prodigious claws on hind and fore feet, and long, narrow wings behind. This thing, which seemed instinct with a fearsome and unnatural malignancy, was of a somewhat bloated corpulence, and squatted evilly on a rectangular block or pedestal covered with undecipherable characters.

The stone itself seemed to be a mossy green, almost alive with texture, and yet, crumbling and ancient at the same time, held together by unseen forces.

He bent down and got eye level with the thing, which stood about seven inches over his King, center of the board.

"The Great Old one....Cthulhu..."

He looked up from the sickening figure. Even to the demon's ancient eyes and robust fortitude and air of unease could be felt around the thing.

"He stirs..."

If the demon was nearly as old as half of them claim to be, she would at least have been around to catch the earliest stories of the Great Old Ones...if not, then she would prove to be yet another dead end in his quest.

[Rae-Star Berii]

It was late; darkness filled the outside world she was sat on the sofa rocking Caleb. Her mother was in the kitchen making dinner; Rae could smell the spicy sauce as it cooked, hear her mother and her uncle laughing quietly. Rae hated him. She wanted him to drop dead. She blamed her mother, even as she played with her young brother in her arms, she blamed that woman, was annoyed that she could laugh and joke with him even when she knew what her brother-in-law was doing to her daughter.

They brought the dinner into the living room on trays, as they did every night and Rae placed her little brother down on the floor to pick at his. Taron had sat next to her, he had placed his hand on her knee and fed her a bite of his meal; he acted like they were a fucking couple…and her mother just turned a blind eye.

There had been a knock at the door; three men had come in, barrelled in. Before Rae even knew what was happening her mother had been restrained, she had been picked up by the hair.

“Pretty little things you have here, T.” The daemon hissed, and Rae remembered the wet of his fingers as he run them down her cheek. “Give us the damned money and we might let one of them live.”

He’d refused, he’d god-damned refused and they killed her mother first. Rae had watched, held by a daemon so much stronger than she had, forced to watch, to keep her eyes open as her mother was burnt alive…the whole house catching alight. She could smell the flesh, hear the crackling of the carpet…all of it under the horrific screams from her mother’s lips as the flesh burnt away from her bones.

For all his sins, Taron had loved Rae. IT was the only way she could justify what he did, because he gave them the money and when they had let Rae go he had pulled her so close to him she could feel his heart beating in his chest.

“Only one we said-“

Rae had screamed, she had screamed and begged and cried as they tore her baby brothers limbs apart, she had turned away to vomit when they had feasted on his eyes… Taron had sent her away before the end, he had shoved her away into the bedroom- whispered her instructions into her ear. She had taken a black leather bound box from under the bed and she had run…and run and run.

The presence of the daemon in the room brought that back to her. Rae generally liked to avoid daemons, they made her feel unwell and they made the photographic images of memories plunge into her head like a hammer and nail against her skin. They made her feel dizzy and angry and sick all at once. Rae had met several daemons since she began her quest as a huntress, she had not found them pleasing in any form and had not met any that she liked to any consideration. The first time she had met a daemon he had tried to blow her to tiny pieces, destroyed two military units and half of Havana. It was not that she blamed all daemons for the destruction of her family, or for the horror and abuse that had happened to her since, but she did not like them. That dislike came from a deep routed fear within Rae, Rae who only hunted daemons when had stalked them for days, when she was absolutely and one hundred per cent prepared for any eventuality. Right now, in this room, with this hunter who she had been following out of curiosity alone- she was not prepared to share a room with a daemon. This man was mad, he was dangerous and somewhat arrogant in his personal and driven purpose.
Rae had known another man like that, once upon a time…

It had been their second night in Chicago, Rae had been led on the sofa. The house was dark, her mother and Caleb were asleep in the spare room. Her Uncle Taron had come home late. His muscular frame cast a shadow into the room, and Rae blinked, rubbing her eyes tiredly. Since her father had died she had refused to speak to anyone, not even Caleb and as her Uncle came into the room she gave him a cold, spoilt look. She did not want to be in Chicago.

“Aww come on now kid.” He had chuckled, sitting next to her on the sofa, his hand on her knee. “It’s not all bad.”

She remained silent, cold, and he moved his hand from her knee, placing it on her arm. Sat stiffly she rolled her eyes and ignored what she thought was comfort. It wasn’t until she felt his fingers brushing her hair away from her throat and the wet touch of his lips to her throat that she broke her solemn silence. Rae shoved him off; “What the hell-?” He wasn’t even drunk… his hand was swift as it went over her mouth; stopping her from shouting at him any longer.

“Now be a good girl and do as you’re told...” He had said as he pressed her hand into his trousers.


She shuddered a little as the room was cast into light and watched the daemon and the hunter; Rae kept close to the door, her hands in fists, and her body tense. She felt this could only end badly, she felt that the daemon was humouring him, playing with him. With an effort to keep her hands still she reached up and pushed back a strand of her hair, wetting her lips and allowing them their time to talk, when the daemon was done with him she would turn to Rae and for that Rae needed to be prepared. She expected a fight because that had become the only thing she knew; she was damaged, hurt and as a hunter these traits were just weakness to her. Her fingers, returning to her side, slipped around the back of her leathers and into her belt, there she found comfort, running her finger along her silver edged blade.

Then her eyes went around the room; the instruments here were something from the past, they were things that Rae had read about in horror stories, they were things that she did not want to know or see. Where they useful? Did they have benefit here? She wasn’t sure; maybe she was looking at this wrong, maybe he was the person she should be enlisting to help her destroy the daemons in her past?

Pinpricks went up her arms and across the back of her neck as the daemoness clocked her, Rae held the others’ gaze, not shying away from it, not allowing the creature to see weakness in her; but she spoke quickly to the other hunter, once more trying to encourage him away from this situation. “Friend, you need to understand that right now, you are outnumbered and underprepared. You are showing you’re cards so freely and your hand is not strong enough.”

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[Rennia Trayvold]

The daemoness smiled as something ran through her mind. Those eyes locked with Max's almost mirroring his gaze. To her he was nothing but a curious human who pretended to know more than he did.

At length she finally closed her eyes slowly and lifted her left hand off of the rifle to sling it up, resting it upon her shoulder idly. Perhaps it was her arrogance flaring up once more, but every passing moment lead her to believe that this man was less and less of a threat.

Then she caught gaze of the idol. The image stirred memories within the woman's mind, but if there was any sense of fear she did not show it. Those eyes simply gazed upon the figure with an analytical approach. Indeed the woman recognized the figure and had heard the stories. Rennia was familiar with the creature of which he spoke, though it had gone by many names throughout the ages.

Finally those eyes turned back towards the man. Deep within those crimson pools, images would begin to stir. Those supernatural images would seem to project outward towards the man, flooding his mind with shapes. One was familiar to the one he presented her. Others would take the form of the legends of old. Figures that had haunted the stories of men throughout the ages(Haunting vision). It was a powerful tool she had developed somewhere along the line and it had proved useful on many occasions for all but the sturdiest of minds. "You would be wise not to be very careful on what doors you open. Some can't be shut afterwards.... and you should also listen to your peers."

Rennia turned her gaze towards Rae once more, not bothering to drop the vision she had implanted upon Max. She leveled a hard gaze at the other woman, seeming to bore into her with the same intensity that she had stared into Max with. However at length she spoke to a different note. "Whatever nightmares haunt your past.... You won't find them here." The woman made it known that she knew something was troubling the other female, though admittedly she knew not what. Rennia surmised that a past encounter with daemons had set her on edge, though that was hardly surprising. They didn't have the best reputation amongst the known world.

Rennia however was fairly confident that her words would ring true regardless of the other woman's experiences with Daemons. Perhaps that is because Rennia believed herself to be different than most others. It wasn't hate or lust that drove her to action usually. It was sheer indifference. To her the loss of life was just another day in the life. That said, she didn't go out and wantonly kill people who hadn't done something to earn her attention. Max however, had done a fine job grabbing her attention and she wasn't sure whether or not he'd leave the building in one piece, though for now she made no attempt to put an end to his eccentric life.

Finally Rennia turned her head back forward, locking her eyes with Max. There she waited, silently, to see what the man would do next....

[Maximillian]

Max's eyes glanced around the room that should have been lit, but was to him, still enshrouded with darkness. Living shadow moved around, figures that didn't work with the rules of this universe. Untold horrors lurked just outside his vision.

His green eyes seemed to pay them no mind. Horrors beyond reason danced around his vision, just poking into the light long enough to catch a glance of the horrific unnamed things.

Then he met eyes with the female. His eyes began to go bloodshot as his veins swelled with veins. The nightmares ran into the light, showing him horrors that no man could understand.

To try and explain what he witnessed would be to try and use madness to explain logic, math to explain art. It simply didn't work.

The gruesome vision which haunted his gaze wouldn't be ignored. People shown being torn apart, things being done to them that are too awful to put in words.

Then, something....remarkable happened. To his eyes, the shadow figures reached out and took hold of the monsters that were now plaguing the hunter. It was a war of madness and fear.

Madness won. Without a contest.

The fear stricken monsters were pulled out of sight and into the shadows that only Max saw. Then the normal monsters continued their routine, creeping just as his edge of sight.

This, all in a second, maybe two.

His mind was already unraveled, and rewound. He had seen the monsters she tried to force upon him. He saw them first hand. For what felt like eons. He was exposed to their existence for time without time.

His mental strands were frayed and unwoven, bit by bit. It was undone to the point of absolute nothingness. Max had ceased to exist.

Then, after the bits that created him, that things that made up his self were pieced together and woven together again, stronger than before.

His intellect had always been astounding, genius level even, but what happened to him after coming out of that realm... He was beyond with what his mind could comprehend. He saw things faster, processed things beyond normal, but he was mad.

His mind was broken down and reforged into something stronger, and yet...still broken. He was plagued now by constant visions of horrors. The nightmares he saw would never leave him.

And this woman thought fear was her ally.

He rolled his eyes and stood slowly.

"Well, I hate to say this, but if you are unwilling to help me, I do not need your help anymore."

He began walking away, stopping as he passed a crate to inspect a few things within. All were easily recognizable to the Daemon behind him. Artifacts of a time when Man fancied they could wage a war on the supernatural and win. Hubris at it's finest. They were summarily swatted like flies, and their relics lost to time.


His voice was soft as he glanced over his shoulder and looked at the Daemon.

"I had hoped that I would not have to call Angels for help here...but you seem more content playing with people as your toys. Which is fine, I will grant you, but you clearly do not know the Old Ones as I do. They do not have good or evil. They do not care about who or what you are."

He turned slowly, lifting a spear head that the woman could likely name specifically. A weapon that was capable of ripping through spirit matter. He tossed it on the ground and kicked it towards the woman so she may do with it whatever she wanted. A sign of...good faith?

"They will end this world. Completely. You. Me. Her. Friends. Family. Everything. They will end this world and everything in it. I want to SHUT the gate for everyone. For you, for me. Everyone. You can wage war, you can collect souls, you can do whatever you damn well please, but if we do not get the key to lock them, or else find a way to cast them into the void, everything we know will end just like-"

He pointed to that black void that had swallowed his jacket and the spirit amulet. The Nothing was back and belched out a puff of white dust that was instantly absorbed into the air and reduced to nothing.

"that."

The little incantation he used was only effective once. On that amulet. Called forth the void and pulled whatever held it into the core of the Blind Idiot God. Max shook.

He began to walk towards the door, slowly, allowing the Daemon woman to process what he had said.

It was clear now that he was not arrogant, and was not foolish with what he did here. He was actually being incredibly smart. Wise, even.

For a madman that is.

He was calling forth the oldest, and strongest beings he knew would hear his voice. Warning them, and attempting to even get their help in ending that would end even them.

Survival is important to all things. Except, perhaps Max, to whom death would be a better alternative.

He used the Angel comment to play on the Pride aspect of Daemons. He knew they were proud creatures, and tended to have a bit of a grudge against the "holier than thou" counterparts who filled the world.

It was not the deathcall of a man out of his league. Nay, what Max was doing was attempting to prevent the end of All Things.

[Rennia Trayvold]

As her gaze returned to the man Rennia chuckled softly, watching his reaction with slight amusement. As he walked over to the objects she tilted her head. Indeed she had either seen many of them in person or at the very least read about them and their kin in books over the years. Someone had gone through a bit of trouble to retrieve the useless things. Of course Rennia was not unfamiliar with the more effective weapons the humans had created, nor the myths surrounding them, but those were few and far between.

Finally she gazed down idly upon the spear as it was shoved over towards her. A smirk pulled at her lips for but a moment as she listened to Max talk about things that weren't new. The ideas and concepts he spoke about had all been heard by her before. Generations of men always had a few who told the same stories time and time again. This was one of those times. He was a man so wrapped up in the ancient stories. Perhaps they were true... perhaps they weren't.

Rennia finally looked up at the man. Within her gaze there was nothing but skepticism. She gave him an incredulous look and waited for him to finish. Then she remained silent for a few moments before speaking once more.

"And how many times will humanity need saving before it learns to stand up for itself and stop bringing it's own destruction about it? How many times have humans played with fire, only to get burned?" Rennia turned fully to face the man, using her boot to kick up the weapon that was tossed to her and grasped it with her other hand as she slowly walked towards the man. She clutched the weapon tightly as she looked down at it for a moment before looking back up. "How many times did humanity have to be rescued from the eve of destruction?'

"You misunderstand me. You believe I'm not familiar with the things you speak of, but I am. It's not that I misunderstand the issue you're trying to present. It's that I simply do not care anymore. You cannot fathom the things that I've done. The events I have changed for better or for worse on the scale of humanity. I've spent my years in the spot light, never asking for glory, never getting rewards. And despite that spotlight, the world will never know."

"Don't pretend to lecture me about not assisting humanity. Humanity isn't my problem. I couldn't give a damn less what happens to your precious humanity. Whether you live or die... whether I live or die.... The end has always been inevitable. You just need to learn to accept it when it finally comes."

The daemon stared at him flatly. Most of what she said was true. She'd spent a large portion of her life doing things that had effected the shape of the world as it was today. While it was true that everything anyone ever does helps to shape the world, it wasn't the little things like changing the way her house looked. She had given a sizable hand in shaping the world. True most of her deeds were unheard of probably. She hadn't dropped the atom bomb, or fired the shot at Lexington... but her contributions still had a visible impact... at least to those who knew where to look.

But it had been some time since she'd grown weary of that life, and it wasn't as if she'd taken it eagerly. Humans and even many supernaturals alike simply didn't learn from their mistakes. Time and time again history forgot itself and people repeated the same foolish errors. She had been willing to help them learn... but the truth was that they weren't learning, not fast enough.

Now she was content to sit on the sidelines, doing what she did best, which was being an assassin. Sure, it meant she was still affecting the world, but unfortunately money was a necessity in the world of men, and she could not fathom a life of idleness, even if she had no great ambition of returning to the front lines.

Inwardly Rennia sighed, however. She was reminded of the events that took place a couple years ago. When she had been ambushed with the intention of employing her uses against her brethren. Then there was the rumor of the general looking for the supernatural sorts. It had lead to a building desire to visit Rome. She didn't care for that group, and hadn't for some time... but ultimately she knew she would need to address them at some point. Perhaps there would be no escaping the coming events....

[Rae-Star Berii]

(ooc; Hi both, I’m really sorry but I’m really struggling here. I can’t work out what Rae can bring to this thread and it’s causing me grief. Please don’t be offended but I’m writing her out of it. Have fun – maybe I’ll catch up with you both on another occasion)

Rae blinked, looking from one to the other. This was more than she could handle. There was more going on here than she could begin to get to grips with. Rae was a planner, just by being here she was breaking all of her personal rules; she was destroying her inner peace. She was without Eli and without her dog she often felt unsafe. Wetting her lips she shook her head at the both of them. Rae was a hunter, but her trial was personal to her. She didn’t care enough for the rest of the world; let him have his crazy quest and let him do it in his madman way.

He wasn’t listening to her, she barely felt like she was being noticed at all. Fine then, she would retreat to the shadows once more and she would watch from the darkness. If things started happened, Rae would know, but for now, this was the end of her place here, this was the end of her time within these walls of this abandoned building.

“Good luck, friend, you’re dicing with the devil himself.” The pink-haired girl said; with another disheartened shake of her head. Then she glance to the daemon. She did not like the creature, though for once she had survived a meeting with a daemon without being attacked. Let that be enough; Rae merely nodded to the other woman, a curt nod of respect, before she turned her back on the pair.

Rae slunk out of the building and back out into the night. There she breathed a sigh of relief- she needed to get back to her motel, get her computer running and find out more about what had come to pass her tonight. Should she be learning from this man rather than scorning him? Who even was he?

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[Maximillian]

The man was displeased at the Daemon's reaction. The other Hunter pulled back and ran off. Typical. He did not care too much, honestly. If he needed to find her, he would, and vice versa. Hunters had that way.

His hand pulled to his head, his thumb and middle finger resting on his temple, and his pointer resting on the crest of his head. He did not sigh, did not shake his head. He just stood there for a moment.

"Humanity will perish on their own, eventually. We both know that."[/green]

His voice was icy. Not mean, or harsh. Just...uncaring. It was ambivalent. Merely...calculated and factual.

"What I am talking about is the complete and utter destruction of the entire world. Not just a civilization. But the WORLD. Everything, INCLUDING you and your kind will be erased."

He turned, pulling his fingers away from his head and took a step forward. His voice raised slightly, breaking his cool demeanor ever so slightly.

"If you do not want to help me, then go. You will be of no use. But you will die too."

He collected himself and turned around. He took a breath, readjusted his suit and began to package up some of the things he had brought with him for the interrogation that he never had.

[Rennia Trayvold]

Rennia gave a nod of her head to the woman and watched as she left. A small frown played at her features. Typical,she thought. Just like a hunter to hate indiscriminately. Rennia inwardly wondered what would happen if they ever crossed paths again. She pondered about whether or not it would behoove her to prepare for a violent encounter. Oh well....

Her attention was brought back once more to Max and she again found herself shaking her head. "Did you honestly expect a Daemon to want to help you? Did you expect that after having one of our kind 'called' here by your victim that we'd jump at the chance to assist a hunter? Are your mental capabilities that degraded?"

"You torture people you believe to be our brethren for information, you play with powers you can't even begin to understand, you insult the people who do arrive and you talk about what? The end time. The end time of all things. What part of 'The end is inevitable' did you miss? I wasn't just referring to the destruction of humans. All ends are inevitable."

Rennia watched the man as he went about packing his things. A small shift caused her head to tilt to the side. She honestly could not remember a time she had encountered someone so presumptuous as him. However, it did wonders to remind her of the way humans often were. So often these days the expected life to be handed to them and grew angry when they were denied. She almost began to feel that humanity's teachings were beginning to unravel and degrade. Had humans already surpassed their potential...?

"Do mind your manners. You were the one who attracted the attention to yourself. Do not get snippy with me if I am less than agreeable to your plight." Rennia shook her head and turned away, idly wandering over towards the door. She stopped under one of the outer lights, looking up at it for a moment before slowly continuing on. There was plenty of time for the man to call back out to her, but if he didn't the woman would make her exit, content to leave the man to his own problems.

[Varos Talantos]

I apologize, but this thread is closed.