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He was NOT in a good mood.

It hadn't been that long since Zac had teleported straight into their dorm, injured and cursing up a storm. Unfortunately now it was his turn to do the same. Though...he had already tried to teleport, and didn't make it very far.

Which led to walking. In a lot of pain, all the way back to Hillworth. ******** his life, seriously.

He could have called Zac. Actually he had thought about it more than once in this horrific walk back. But he wasn't quite sure what his roommate was up to and if he was trying to get some rest then he didn't want to bother him. OR! Maybe if he was lucky he could slink home and get himself cleaned up before Zac got back from a nightly patrol and he could avoid the awkward explaining portion of the evening all together. That'd be good.

Scheelite had shifted back into his civvies, most noticeable being a brightly colored hoodie. Currently the hood was up and covering as much of his face as possible. Inside the hood lay Strax, his loyal flying squirrel looking youma, who currently was curled up protectively around the back of it's master's neck. It was hard to see him, but anyone who tried to touch Demy was going to get a face full of teeth. It was reassuring, at least.

After what felt like a walk lasting -eternity- he was finally there. All that was left was slipping inside, and eventually to his dorm. There he quickly slid inside the door, easing it shut behind him and breathing a sigh of relief. Home. Finally. He'd just have to tell Strax to get the hell out soon (though it was nice the little youma was so worried for his safety) and get some damn sleep.

"I tried to tell him to go away, but he wouldn't until I got home..."
Demy cringed as he moved to lower his hoodie, finally detaching Strax from around his neck. The little youma didn't seem pleased at all but Demy knew ushering him to go 'home' or wherever it was that youma went was best. Even if he didn't want to.

"...Is it that obvious?"
He had tried to cover up the marks of war, but with just how much he hurt he supposed it was pretty impossible to walk around and be in his happy go lucky mood. Really, he felt about ready to pass out.

"...If I tell you, you won't yell at me, right?"

"Lyra.."
He nodded, confirming the fact. It was only after Strax was safely out of the room that he allowed himself to really relax.

Also known as flopping to sit on the floor with a whimper of pain.

"What would you do if I said she wasn't still breathing?"
He let the statement hang for just a moment before quickly adding in
"She...is though. I can't say I won this round..."
At which he growled angrily, hands balling into fists. <********> he hated Lyra, and <********> he hated -losing-. ESPECIALLY to Lyra!

"SHE came after me Zee. She came after me. I wasn't even looking for her!"

That had stung. He wouldn't purposefully put Zink's life in danger! He KNEW about the deadline, he just...argh.

"Yeah, it's totally awesome she's coming after me so hardcore -now- when I've been trying to avoid her because of your project."
He slowly forced himself to his feet, whimpering more at the movement. Demy only made it as far as the bed before having to sit down again.

"You've changed her Zee...she was never this...cold. She's out for blood, my blood which while fun, doesn't leave me much of a choice when I'm trying not to hurt her so I don't screw up -your- mission."
He was cringing, giving little whimpers and yelps as he slowly peeled his hoodie off. Once that was gone, it was easy to see the dozens of tiny burn marks from Lyra's upgraded attack. Nothing nearly as bad as Zac's hand burn, but it still stung.

"Nothing's broken..that I can tell. Just...yeah."
Green eyes glanced at his arms before continuing on.
"by the way? TV to the chest...hurts."

"I swear to you, I was out doing my rounds and she grabbed me and dragged me into an alley and it just...went from there. What the -hell- man, just what the hell."
Thankful for the painkillers, he nabbed one and swallowed it quickly. Faster it was down, faster he'd slip into happy pain-free sleepy times.

"Usual battle damage...though she -did- learn not to step on my guitar, and I'm pretty sure she took a flying trashcan lid frisbee to the chest. I'm...definitely worse for wear than she is. Sucks, god ******** damnit. I was having such a GOOD night too! I was making pretty good headway on my quota man, <******** grumbled quietly to himself for a moment, watching Zee attempt to take care of him. Wounded tending to the wounded...lord.

"Sorry Zee-man...I shoulda just 'ported out of there and not even got into a fight at all."

"My chest feels like it got hit by a bus man. I mean yeah..it's been worse, but holy crap."
He wasn't going to add in the part about being -stuck- under a TV and his nemesis perched above him taunting him. That was a little too embarrassing.

"Yeah, us working together...fff, imagine the three of us? Smoke, burning particles from hell, and an electric guitar. It'd be pretty awesome..."
Even if it meant working with her.

"...W-wait, what? You...want me to help?"
Acid eyes had widened in quite a bit of surprise. He had thought Zac wanted him to avoid the situation. Stay the hell out of it for risk of screwing it up. But...he wanted -help-?

"...Really man? Cause I'd love to. Just tell me what you need!"
He had to hope it was quite an active part. Part of him -needed- to see Lyra be corrupted. If he couldn't kill her, that at least would satisfy some of his need for revenge.

And that was exactly what Demy needed to hear. His partner not only wanted him to help, he was the -best- Zac could think of for the task at hand. He was needed. That helped pick his ego back out of the dumpster.

"Love that idea."
That evil little smirk that was mostly reserved for Scheelite had wound it's way onto Demy's face, his eyes full of much more life as the plan bounced around inside his head.

He had, however, caught that wince.
"...How's your hand doing man?"

"Attached hands and plans are good, yes..."
Once bandaged up he gave Zac his thanks and stood to limp his way to the closet and change into something comfortable to sleep in. It was only when he peeled off his shirt the ugly bruise from the TV was ********>. Thankfully he liked wearing long sleeves even outside of his school uniform. He pulled some on now, figuring it'd be better to sleep in so he didn't roll around and peel off the bandages or something equally as painful.

"...Honestly, I was a bit worried when we got uhh...promoted, that things would change. I know I have to run my own team and all..but I'd miss working with you. Thanks man, for still making time for me."
He had quite the pleased grin on his face. It wasn't a guilt trip, it was honest -thanks-. Their separate teams could become one big-a** awesome team if the situation ever called for it, and that was one big advantage they had in the Negaverse.