#bloodoffer

“My, my—” His voice is a low baritone, one that he has practiced on for decades. “It’s rare for someone to be so bold as to trespass on my private property. You must be a brave man.” He steps over and tucks the rose behind Naoya’s ear. “After all, I do not find foolish men attractive.” Blade still remains steadily in his hand. He has his pokemon too, but sometimes a knife is enough of a warning. 

“Cain.” Baritone voice is soft and calm as he tilts his head upward toward the stars. “Come here.” He has never been one to give the other commands—but tonight he is in a certain sort of mood. 

White hair & red eyes—he’s never seen anyone like that. Neither has Xera. Go to him.  The demon whispers in his consciousness. He is helpless when it comes to Xera’s whims, for he is but a host & his mind is weak from years of rage. So he goes. “Excuse me. . .” He starts, eyelashes fluttering and voice soft. “But you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” 

“You know what? I think it would be fun to summon something big and scary!” He’s already covered in his own blood, already injured from fighting, but Andras always finds himself energized by battle. “What do you say, Naoya? Are you up to the task?” His grin is cruel. He does not just want these people to die. . .he wants them to suffer, too. 

The knife wound is bleeding heavily as Graves slides through the door—one of his clients got a little too excited this evening.  A little too amped up. Graves pays for this—he always pays for this in blood and pain. Blood drips on the floor as he crashes into a chair. He feels dizzy. Perhaps he shouldn’t have walked all the way home. He can’t afford the hospital—never has been able to afford the hospital. “Darling!” He calls out, voice a little more high pitched than usual. It must be the stress. “Care to give me a hand? One of my clients got a bit handsy.” 

“You would have died in the snow if it were not for my intervention. The least you could do is be somewhat agreeable.” 

“You’ve come here for answers & I can give you them—but you will not like what I have to say.” 

“Do you recognize this voice or has it been too many centuries?”