#deathmimedream

Omega lightly knocked on the office door, balancing a tray. “Terzo? I thought you might like a break. I made some espresso and brought some treats.”

The shorter male glanced up as the knock pulled him out of his slightly zoned out state. He had probably been staring at the same page for about 10 minutes, without really reading it. It was far too late to even still be cooped up in his office. It was already dark out. But he didn't want to risk the wrath of Sister Imperator, if he pushed it to the next day.

He exhaled softly as he leaned back, Omega being a Hellsend at the moment. He could use a break. And espresso. And snacks.

He deserved that break.

Caliber never meant it when he teased the pirate king, but sometimes he wasn’t sure if Vaas was aware of that.

A flash of red where there should not have been anything.

He followed instead of returning to the stage, disappointing some of the fans in favor of pursuing Papa’s safety.

He was prioritized over everything, because if he was harmed it meant bad news for the church.

He slung his guitar onto his back, no time to rack it safely as he gave chase, the fleeting crimson evading him by inches.

He slid to a halt just before reaching the green room, eyes alighting on a tall, red-clad stag demon, leaning towards one of the newer stage hands.

“Wh….what?” He stammered, trying to understand what was happening.

Now, Alastor was a picky man, when it came to what deals he accepted, and what souls he craved. He, unlike some dealmakers, he had the luxury of choosing. He wouldn't take meaningless deals. Uncomplete souls. But sometimes, one might be surprised by what deals he accepted.

This one was different than most. This, young woman had called for assistance in regards to her estranged sibling. She didn't ask for power, or success. No. She asked for survival. That was all she desired. Her sibling was ill, from what he could understand. Fatally ill. All she desired was for her sibling to survive, even if they were not on speaking terms.

Now, this was interesting to the stag. This soul was pure. The deal made with only good intentions. A soul such as that was rare. A powerful, profound thing.

And he wanted it.

Closing a deal was nothing spectacular. To him, at least. But to an onlooker, it might be a different story entirely. And he hadn't expected being caught in the act.

A concert wasn't where he had counted on closing the deal. But here he was, leaned down towards the woman. Her eyes were wide, fear evident in her features. Would it hurt? She asked. No. It wouldn't hurt. Much. The separation of the body and soul could be rather uncomfortable, but he would be gentle. He was brought up to be kind to women. He wouldn't harm her.

Much.

One, clawed hand was placed against her back, preventing her from backing away. The other was gripping her chin, keeping her head steady, forcing her mouth open. His uncanny, wide smile was all teeth and terror as he parted his lips, leaning in as if to initiate a kiss. But no. In stead, he paused an inch from her face, crimson orbs glowing in the dark.

It only took a couple of minutes, but it felt like an eternity. The light that started to emit from her parted lips. Bright blue, almost white. Pure energy. Her life being pulled from her very lips, her breath stolen by the Overlord in red, as the light transferred from her to him. Her breath came to a halt. Her heart slowed down. The light in her widened eyes going out. Her body going limp, head slumping backwards.

Silence.

Alastor slowly moved her down onto the ground, her back leaned against a couple of spare speakers. She would, without a doubt, be found later. Slowly, he straightened back up, rolling his shoulders some as his tongue traced over his lips, as if he could still taste her energy. Only then, did he turn those crimson orbs towards the unintentional onlooker, one, clawed finger pressing against his lips.

@deathmimedream asked: ‘I’m sorry, but I’m just thinking of the right words to say…’ Zen any band ghoul free to talk to the nervous little thing.

―  𝑺𝑶𝑵𝑮𝑺 𝑭𝑹𝑶𝑴 𝑻𝑯𝑬 80𝑺 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺. (not accepting)

Phantom can still very clearly remember seeing that severed hand and fingers from what feels like a lifetime ago. All the pain and fear and suffering in a too small hand laying in their lap like a broken toy.

They are not the squeamish type, but seeing that had back on Zenead still has them squirming. They would rather like to not see any violence associated with Astaroth again.

They are staring more at the other Ghoul's hand than at the Ghoul it is attached to, the strings of their guitar forgotten for the moment.

"E wojy sety sa dezsyf," they reply in Ghoulish, tail curling around the neck of their instrument to hold it still in their arms.

“You’re new here.” The deep, honey-sweet voice said.

And he meant it not to be threatening, but it was hard when your usual firm was over eight feet tall.

Though currently, Caliber was wearing his glamour, so unless one had the gifts of magic, he simply looked like this:

The second asset was….very small, the size of a child, but attired like the asset.

He had one full metal arm, one partial, and his eyes were fully mechanical, glowing a soft green. His auburn hair was long, a few soft spikes standing up here and there.

He was holding a fluffy orange cat…. And did not seem to have any handler in sight.

“You should get acquainted with The Revenant Asset before your mission, as he’s a slightly unusual asset. “

(Return of the mini asset!!!!!)

When its handler had come to collect it from its cell, the soldier had followed without question. It was not its place to speak unless given permission and it was not to ask where it was being led, only follow at the allowed distance.

On entering the room, the soldier's eyes fell on the child sized agent- no, this was another asset. Seeing one so small was new for the soldier, but it did not react, only listened to the handler's instructions. Was the cat necessary for the mission? Never had it seen a pet on a HYDRA base. Already, this new asset was very strange.

"Understood," it replied, stepping forward, the soldier stood in front of the other asset. "Capabilities?"

@deathmimedream

Sam and Dean had made it to the small shack. They looked around but Sam didn't have time or the inclination to ask why there was a random shack in the middle of a national forest.

Maybe it was an old hunting cabin?

They got the light and traps set up and waited.

Dean spun his hunting knife out in a flash as he heard a creak from behind them deeper in the house.

That was impossible, they'd looked through the shack and hadn't see anyone.

The figure came into the doorway and stilled, he swept his eyes over them out.

"No one has escaped since I've been here. I assume your Sam and Dean Winchester then?"

His sword appeared in his hand, his enochian name etched in the blade. In the dim firelight it seemed to pulse blue.

"You're an angel? You going to be a problem?"

I Have An Icon For That! || ACCEPTING