whatever happened to good ol’ Eldritch horrors? Cosmic threats? lately, it had been demons, Hell, exorcisms, catholic confessional booths. “i’d say here we are again, but does it matter?” no. “well, Mr. Richardson, are we to duel with words or fists?” might as well get straight to the point with this one.
“an’ here i thought we’d have a nice chat, maybe even dinner, and some drinks.” as much as he was being sarcastic, the demon was being truthful at least. if that was what was necessary to keep or even get strange to be on decent terms with him? why not go the distance. it wasn’t like ky was really doing anything that important. “or, would you like to cut out all the pleasantries, and get to the part where you let me borrow a something.” a pause. “more specifically, a book.”
with a brief close of the eyes, a tip of the head, Stephen did concede to those words. “yes, well, it’s in the past now. now you’re here, and i’m here. so – ?” that tip of the head turns into something ruder. raising his chin in a: i’m waiting.
“you’d be surprised how far a genuine question can get a genuine answer.” with that said, “sometimes an answer you might not like.”
“but i’ve been known to change my mind.”
“most of the time answers are worthless.” at least to him. they might have been genuine answers, but they were not what he wanted. it took trickery, effort, and a basis of trust before most would even think of helping him.
it was something that he didn’t think was needed here. at least since he knew fully well that asking ( even nicely ) would just end up with a denial of his request ( at least in his mind ). “you know who i am… so we can skip that part,” he said, arms folding across his chest. “– an’ get to the part where i tell you that i need access to something.”
the threat is real, as well as duly noted. but Stephen wasn’t in the business of being intimidated by the denizens of Hell – even half ones. for one the Prince of Hell for all intents and purpose looked human.
now a cosmic horror. those, depending on the size and appearance even made him give a thin line of disapproving.
but not the man before him.
“one or one million i’ve given a vow to save as many as can be saved.” arms out as if going, ‘ta-da’ – “and that’s exactly what i did in this case. someone lived.”
although he had to hand it to the blonde; having skin ripped off is quite a gruesome thought. “hm. yes, well, i’ll pass on that. my skin could use some hydration but it’s fine where it is.”
“on the other hand – if i find you out again, i have no problem ruining your intentions. again”
“you can’t be everywhere, strange.” even if he could be, people would slip through the cracks, and that was when ky would strike. he didn’t like participating in violence for the sake of it, but it would more likely prove a point.
“you saved one life; one life, but people die everyday.” the causes were all different, but the end was the same. “you could say i’m…. speeding up the inevitable if you will.” it was more than that, far more if he was being honest, but that was what he’d amount it to. that way, he wouldn’t have to attempt to justify his actions.
“one, two – even a thousand death’s mean nothing.” not to him at least. “you ruin my intentions, i ruin your’s – things get bloody on both ends. eventually,” his arms folded across his chest. “things will get far more personal than they are now. when that happens? lines get drawn and i can assure you… you don’t want that to happen.”
“you wanted to save one life; a noble gesture.” even ky could respect that little bit of information. still, just due to the fact he respected it… didn’t mean he liked it. nor did he approve of such a thing.
stephen should have not interfered with his little game. it was one that ended far too soon. not that it mattered to him – one game was the same as any others. just as long as he got the prize at the very end.
“however, a truly misplacedone.” more or less – he just didn’t like interruptions. of any sort to his amusement. a reason to why he decided to issue a true threat… one he’d go through with if pushed too far, but the likely hood of actually doing so was quite low.
“ —- the next time you do so… you’ll find your skin ripped off piece by piece.
gloved hands turn pages in a worn book peacefully, “i’m sure you’re about to tell me why you’re here without prompt. but the polite thing to do would at least wait for me to ask.”
a pause.
“may i help you? Ky’lar Richardson – Son of Blackheart, Prince of Hell.”
“the polite thing would have been for me to knock.” more or less. though, that would have meant more motivation on his part, and he wasn’t in the mood to give anyone that sort of effort. not at the moment at least.
“—- it depends.” on several factors, but for now, he would play his own games, and go from there. “would you if i asked?”
Hellfirebound 