#young con

baby Con O'Neill ❤❤❤

"Shit-!" The magician was concealed in a thick, blue plume of smoke, and when it dissipated, a small, thin boy stood in its wake. John cast a frightened glance around the lavish room he found himself in, disoriented and confused. Had Mrs. Campbell lent him out again? Well, her clients could take their money and sod off, he was out of here, even if that meant she'd lock him up once she got him back in her fake-nailed clutch. The boy ran to the window and fumbled for the locks, letting out a quiet whimper when he struggled with it. Spiraling jagged magenta energy roiled down his arms and out, blowing out the window and a bit of the wall in the Lux, and without hesitation John flung himself from it. He was higher up than expected, but a wild wave of his arms made that terrible, wonderful magenta magic burst forth again, carving a line into the alley's concrete and negating his fall enough that the landing was a mild tumble. Looking back over his shoulder only to make sure there was no immediate danger, the child then dashed off into the vast nightlife city of Los Angeles.

Sheer terror flashed across John's face. "But I- But I killed you," he whispered, clapping a hand over his mouth after and swallowing convulsively. Magenta magic, only barely tamed, rippled defensively over the small form.

John couldn't help staring at the ring of eyes, his vision then drawn to the spirit that waved at him. "Bollocks," the little boy hissed out under his breath, nervously averting his own gaze swiftly.

John's scream choked off in his throat at the sight of the huge demon. It was easily twice his height, with horns that added even more to an imposing loom. He trembled once, a full-body shudder from head to toe, before he launched forward, landing a sharp kick to the demon's shin before spinning in place and running away as fast as he could. "I need to hide, I need to hide!" he panted out, and his new magic rippled over him, tinting him in magenta before the boy winked out of sight. A trail was still able to be followed, given the sounds he made, like bumping into a trash can as he ran into a street and narrowly avoided being hit by the cars there. A clatter from the opposite side of the street came, a stray cat skittering away from the sound, as John climbed into a dumpster and buried himself in the bags there. This wasn't the same city he'd lived in before with the Campbells, right? He wasn't imagining things too vividly again?

Leaf gave me a worksheet I gotta do, so I'm focusing real hard on it. He also gave me markers!