#mazinngabe

“Adramelech? Apologies again, Raphael sends me to ask fo- Oh.” Mazin blinked at the small pile of clothes that got shoved in his hands.

Adra levelled a stare at him: “Those should fit. The bathroom is behind you”

It was the same carefully-neutral, borderline-annoyed stare the Adramelech he knew had. Except… well… male. Which didn’t actually change much, really.

It made him pause. And stare back for longer than he should have, possibly. Without a reaction.

He grabbed the clothes more firmly when he realised his own somewhat odd behaviour and pulled his mouth into a smile: “Ah, there are very thoughtful people in the world, after all.” He turned and looked at the door. “There, yes? Again, thanks. I appreciate the surprise-hospitality!”

Adramelech raised a brow, but let it go with a shrug: “Put your clothes in the wash. You can’t wear these outside. I have experience with blood stains”

It brought forth another stare. Too close to home. He needed to look at the strangely painted walls… the small confines of this space to remind himself he truly was not home. It was odd. Off. Something like this.

“Got it!” He said. And disappeared into the bathroom. Which was… covered in white tiles. Big ones. A toilet with… absolutely no smell – except maybe a fresh one? And a basin with… a metallic thing above it.

Another metallic thing behind some see through… material? It made a hollow noise when he knocked at it.

There was also a… metallic box. With a handle.

They had blinky lights as well.

Everything had very bright lights here.

He was not sure how this… how…

With a huff, he looked at the clothes. Buttons. He could at least deal with buttons. Even if the material was foreign, buttons were easy.

With a deep breath, he started to rid himself of his shirt. It did cling to him a little more than he would like. Blood wanted to be as close to a body as possible, as usual.

It stung a bit.

“… helpfully told me that you are not the greatest at self-defence after all”

“No worries. He is… strange, but hasn’t done anything”

There was a pause, then a knock at the door: “Take a shower while you’re at it!”

… err.

“Mnnnnh… why make me go bed when wake up early…” She held very still, more enduring than anything else… but patted his head.

“You need the sleep. I can’t know Gabrielle brings stray blood-dripping friends to our door”

“Dripping?” Because that might actually constitute an emergency. And he let go of her.

“Mh? Oh. No. Not really. But there was quite a bit of blood” She booped his nose. “Lets look at it anyway, mh?”

“Fiiiine…”

With a great sigh, he let Asra go, stood to stretch and crack his bones… and then trotted off to the kitchen, hair thankfully still in a braid and not a great wild mass.

“Good… hello, dear guests” He didn’t exactly know who the guests were, but the top of the fridge had a pair of glasses waiting for him.

He blinked owlishly at Gabrielle, who held a coffee-pot in her hands. He took it. The too hot sip he took actually felt good.

She looked a little put off: “… you’re half naked”

Ah. So that’s why.

“Yeah, you woke me. In my own flat. So, where is the patie- Ah” The sweep of the kitchen had ended with a man in… blood-soaked clothes.

It was worth the second sigh of the evening: “Okay… put away the knives. Then I’ll look you over”

Gabrielle looked somewhat affronted.

The nameless patient shrugged and pulled three different knives from his body. Thigh, boot and torso. Might be fine.

“So, how are you feeling? Any injuries?” He said, putting the knives – daggers, really – out of further reach and put the coffee down.

“Raphael, I don’t exactly know what happened, I’m not really inured, I just-“

“It IS Dr. Israfil for you, even if you are with Gabrielle. So. Not your blood? It’s already denatured, should have washed it, seriously. Anything else? Headache? Dizzy?”

He pulled a tiny flashlight from the closest drawer: “Can I check your eyes?”

“Err… there was some dizziness, headache… but that was long after the blood. And sure, I… mh” He looked like he wanted to say more, but shut up.

Checking his pupil reflexes, that at least was fine. No concussion, then.

“Alright. Why are you here, then?” Raph sat down and yawned. It was a bit of an odd visit, really.

“Err… I… apparently made the impression of head injury, so Gabrielle brought me h-“

“He grabbed and kissed me and told me I’m his wife!” She didn’t sound happy. Understandable.

So Raph nodded along: “… psychological problems are not my division. Anything el-“

“What do you MEAN it’s not your blood?!”

“It means it’s someone else’s. No worries. I’m not being persecuted. It’s fine” the unnamed patient said.

“What?!” Gabrielle said. Again.

“… I’m harmless?” was accompaniedfrom another shrug from he patient.

“He’s not. But does he have a name, at least?” Raphael said, because this was getting annoying.

The patient’s eyes flitted between Gabrielle and him: “Err. Mazin. Mazin Ruthven“

Gabrielle looked like she couldn’t believe what was happening. Maybe a healthy reaction.

“Maybe you should change clothes… you look my size. I’m sure Adra has something for you…”

“He has KNIVES!” She said. Apparently scandalised.

“I have knives, too. I thought that’s why you came here. And I did take his knives” He had woken up ten minutes ago. What did they expect of him, really.

Mazin pointed in the direction of the door and slowly sidestepped: “I’ll… uh… I’ll go ask Adramelech, yes?”

“Mnh…” Raph nodded, taking another sip of coffee.

“How can you be so calm?!” Gabrielle said.

“But you did SO well! The prices dropped and the really did give you the freshest and best ingredients.” It even sounded genuine.

“You can pay them triple after we are done! It’s not how it works!” He even cheered and supported the haggling. What’s the point!

“He does have enough money,” Eric said, taking her coat.

“That’s not the point. Haggling is the basis of market trade!” That this was a bloody mansion really did not help. Either side. It was just annoying.

“I apologise on his behalf, he isn’t… well… no, he is always like that,” he frowned, coming back from the wardrobe, offering her slippers. Fox-shaped ones. Then he shrugged: “I got used to it”

She took the slippers with a heavy sigh, just as the owner of the house walked past with the silver version of them.

“Look. It would have been fine if he paid the original price from the beginning. But no, he waited. He even provoked and haggled himself. Seriously, he could have saved us a lot of time, too” Now there was just irritation.

“It’s one of his least charming attributes, I admit,” he nodded and lead the fox-slippered Gabrielle towards the kitchen. Where Mazin had at least unpacked the ingredients in a… halfway sensible manner. Apparently, he had listened when she explained what she needed for what.

He waved at her with a knife and a wetstone: “Welcome to the kitchen! So! What can I chop how?”

She tried to ignore the sharpening noises and took in the kitchen.

It was of a comfortable size. Enough space to work – really, a nice amount – but she probably won’t run a marathon until the end of the meal prep.

“Alright, I think the knife is sharp enough now,” she frowned, eyeing the fox-apron he wore… her suspicions were validated by the fabric in Eric’s hands.

“Is it?” He took the knife and… shaved off some of the hair on his arm. Huh. “I guess it is”

“… gross” she said, because it was. “If you like it this much, then by my guest… you could use a kitchen machine, but if you want to use knives”

“See? She gets me, after all!” Mazin exclaimed, as if he didn’t speak sarcasm.

Eric looked apologetic.

But at least the knife-man was occupied. With a bit of bodyguard-help, she got all pans, bowls and otherwise needed kitchenware.

The cutting-noises could be mostly ignored.

Another onceover of the person in front of him resulted in the following words: “Well, I do see how these jeans are trouble. Cutting into your shapely hips and-“

His reflexes had caught a finger. It had been intent on jabbing his forehead.

The hand – it obviously belonged to… Gabe? Had he heard that right? – got pulled out of his grip and she stared at him.

“Stop”

It took a few very puzzling seconds to pull himself together.

Mazin took a deep breath through the sleeve of his pullover.

It helped. A little.

So, it was something in the air.

Alright.

He started walking.

The living room was bigger. Less close quarters. More air.

And a window. He took a deep breath of the outside air, before he closed it.

That definitely helped.

She smelled of chocolate, he noticed as she came closer, just as irritated-looking, but a little questioning my sanity as well. Well. There was cocoa on his mind. And sweetness. And very alluri-

FOCUS.

He still stood close to the window. Fresh air and all, student homes are cheap.

And she said: “Done?” That was pure irritation in her – HER! – voice. “I need your help. Not some terrible flirting. See, I turned into a woman at du-“

“I noticed, believe me” It was hard not to. And these were men-jeans. And they cut into her hips. It was distracting. Really, everything about her was very distracting.

That half-lidded, angry stare was far more attractive than she likely hoped, because she said in a sharp tone: “That is not helping. I got cursed. Cursed! Can you believe it?! And I need you to get rid of the curse”

“First!” Mazin raised a finger for emphasis, watching this strange Gabriel follow the motion… and then pulled down the jeans, underpants kept in place with his other hand. “Step out of those”

For a moment, Gabriel stared at him, frown so deeply etched in her forehead, it was almost impressive. Mouth opened and closed.

“See? Your hips have li-!“

Slap!

Well. His cheek stung. A bit.

“SNAP out of it. Mazin. This is serious”

He pointed down: “And this is full of pheromones, so away it goes!”

It might be a testament to the absolute insanity of the situation that, after a moment of consideration, she actually followed my instruction and kicked the jeans somewhere towards the floor, looking accusatory at the piece of clothing.

Meanwhile, Mazin could observe the situation and yes, transformation biologically accurate. Must be weird for Gabe.

Ah well. He let himself fall on the sofa… and made a beckoning motion and smiled: “So. C’mere. Sit on my lap and tell me all about the heart you broke and how they decided to punish you for it. And, of course, how I can be of help”

Studying Gabriel’s face, he could read in very bold letters that she regretted calling him.

…

And the Answer was…

RetiredDragon: ‘Hey Mazin, can I ask a favour? Could you come over?’

Oh? Gabe needed a favour?

He wasn’t usually the type to need favours…

After two more seconds of consideration, he shrugged, typed ‘k, cu in 5’ and climbed down his stargazing tree.

Still waters are deep and murky. Maybe he needed to access a Tor-auction of something.

It might be fun. He could be riled up. If the mood was right.

Mazin sauntered over to the history-major’s student home, was glad to find they still hadn’t revoked his rights to access and knocked at the right door in the third floor.

He waited, plucking some of the leaves off his jacket: “Come on, prime angel boy, I’m easily bored!” Just to annoy him, of course, since the door already opened and he could continue: “Heeey there, what’s the proble-“

Huh.

Mazin blinked twice at the figure in front of him.

It was a nice figure, certainly. Most definitely a nice figure.

It had the right hair colour. And the right height – only a head smaller than him. And the right skin and eye colour. Perfectly familiar annoyed-with-Mazin expression as well.

But that F-sized chest was… definitely not planned. Especially as braless as this one.

The pants didn’t sit right. Neither did the shirt, really.

Those were some nice hips, really. Terribly well hidden, but damn.

Just reaching out and grab and pull and-

Mazin shook his head. That was weird. He had to concentrate.

And cause a distraction. For himself. So he called into the flat behind the lady: “HEY GABE, DID YOU LAY YOUR TWIN SISTER?”

Which did NOT go over well with the lady in front of him, who grabbed his collar, pulled him in, shoved him towards the wall on the other side and looked outside if anyone might have heard that.

There was no one, Mazin knew that. But really. The lady was more attractive than he had ever experienced, except… when something strange was afoot.

He needed to concentrate. Still. And NOT on the not-entirely-closed shirt she was wearing. Better on the very-put-upon expression she was wearing, now after she had slammed the door and stared at him.

“Hey there. Gabe called me. I heard there’s a problem”

Maybe his grin was a little too wide. But it was a strange situation.

“Name’s Mazin, by the way…”

He tried a LITTLE bit of respect.

“… or boy toy, whichever you’d rather use”

The threats – the demands - to the town below needed to end. And tomorrow – after a last long rest – they would.

She organised her Spells – prepared divine Smite, True Sight, Protection from Good and Evil, Shield of Faith, Zone of Truth, Dispel Magic, Remove Curse, Cure Wounds, Death Ward, Banishment and of course Find Steed.

It would certainly be a battle. But one she was not about to lose.

For now? Her tent provided the same extraplanar safety it always did. Good night.

  The next morning, she awoke refreshed and with all Spells in place. After conjuring her celestial elk and casting True Sight, Aid and Protection against Evil on herself, she rode into the very last room of the dungeon. A throne room… of sorts.

Apparently.

Because there was a large empty space. And in the background… a throne. With a lanky  person, nose in a book, crammed into it. Literally crammed. They were not sitting on it like a normal person. Their neck was stuck against an armrest, one leg was draped over the back of the chair, the other foot was perched on the second armrest… it looked all very… uncomfortable.

And when my true sight kicked in six seconds later, I saw curled horns and a tail – and even some wings? - cramping the whole scenario up even more.

Gabrielle stared at this undignified display. Wary, due to the – hidden for normal people! - demon status, she calls out: “What are you doing here, fiend?”

“Err…. What?” Was the answer. The fiend lifted his book a little, tail swishing. After another two seconds, he turned to her, limbs rearranging itself, “Ooooh~ Who do we have here! Greetings, paladin! Welcome to my homestead, where I… well… live!”

With even more suspicion, she narrowed her eyes: “So it is you who threatens the townsfolk! You should get lost! And stop harassing them! They are innocent and under the protection of Lathander!”

“Ah, I live here, though. I’m only demanding a little bit of a tribute, really” He had turned to the side, tail now hidden, but horns less stuck to the armrest.

“You can demand that tribute from another place! This town is protected by the Morning Lord! If you MUST harass mortals, you can do it elsewhere!”

“I believe that would not be in my best interests, so… I must decline, I apologise, dear paladin” the fiend said, smiling like it didn’t matter.

She had tried the diplomatic route. He had his chance. With a raised rapier, she says: “Then, with the help of the MIGHT of LATHANDER, I will sent you back to your cursed plane of existence!”

Her elk gallops forward, the spear thrown towards the demonic offender. With the blessing of her god on her side, it was easy to believe this was simply another battle.

Until it was not.

The spear flew towards the horned person. And then stopped.

Just like everything else.

Everything stopped. With a flick of his fingers.

Arcane spells flickered around him, he plucked the spear out of the air and walked over towards her, more spells flickering into existence, staying in exactly the place they were cast.

Abjurations, enchantment, divination, transmutation. It all flicks into existence, stuck in space.

Until he stopped in front of her and he placed the blunt end of her polearm on the floor – the spells released.

His skin rippled, spells flew towards her and hit her and her steed, her muscles locked up and she simply stayed… afloat.

Now, he sighed. And held out the spear to her.

Gabrielle noticed she could not see his demonic nature anymore. There must have been a dispel magic amongst the spells. Two, since her elk was gone as well.

“… so… before we do anything else, I suggest you cast zone of truth around you, so you actually believe what I am saying, yes?” the magic of the suggestion spell in his voice made it impossible to resist.

She traded off spells with him, the zone of truth was established – and the demon let himself be affected. He would have to speak the truth for the next ten minutes. It was a fact.

He opened his eyes and let the levitation and hold person spell drop, still holding out her spear, and said: “I do not wish you any harm, elven paladin. I am here to learn about the mortal plane. And you are… very interesting, as a virtuous person. I would like to cast ‘wish’ for you, several times, if necessary. And would give you 12 hours… 12 hours to fulfil your deepest desires, as much as my magic can grant these. The townsfolk is not too virtuous, so the results are rather predictable, but you… you are a little different.

… after those twelve hours, I will actually leave the town alone, never to bother it again. Is that an acceptable deal?”

With narrowed eyes, she answered: “You change your opinion rather fast, demon”

“Ah, well, it does not truly matter to me. This  is not exactly my own plane. And you seem…  determined to be a bit of a bother, no?” He still simply stood there, no aggressive action taken.

She stared at him. Deepest desires. Hm. Strength. Light. A better connection to Lathander. Better abilities to help people… well, it… shouldn’t be too bad, then? Right?

“… you are not going to harm me, you said?”

“Well, I don’t know about your desires, but I certainly do not wish to. I merely wish to learn” He nodded.

“… why me?” was another question.

“Well… you proved yourself by defeating all my summons… and you are a paladin. I’d say as my polar opposite, you are the most educational to learn from.”

The Zone of Truth was still active. He did not lie.

“Twelve hours, no severe damage to me, you watch how my ‘innermost desires’ are fulfilled-“

“-as long as my magic can provide it, yes,” he interrupted.

“… as long as your magic can provide, and then you will leave the premises and leave the town in peace. Yes?” It needed to be said again. To be sure.

“This is the deal I am offering, yes”

“How will I know you will stick to the deal?” Because that was a legitimate concern.

“Mmmmh… you have the Geas spell, don’t you? Tell it to make me stick to the deal?”

Her spell slots were limited. But… it would be worth it. To make the demon not attack her. She cast the spell and the demon accepted it. Without any complaint. The feeling of an anchored spell reassured me.

“… alright. I… I suppose I wish you a… good… learning experience?” She held out her hand, still somewhat unsure.

But the demon took her hand: “It is a deal”