Welcome to Gaia! ::

Demare was quiet as his bi-colored eyes continued to watch the baby across the room gurgle and coo at him, little arms hanging over the edge of his old crib. The halfling was a bit irked at his guardian for taking away his dagger for the night, simply because they'd requested him to watch over the stupid baby for a few hours until they got back. Why couldn't Sora or Juubei watch him? Sure, Sora had her hands full with all of the new additions to the house as of late, and Juubei rarely kept watch of things OUTSIDE of the shadows. Still, that didn't matter to him. His right eye narrowed a little further as Manior squealed and giggled for what seemed to be no reason.

The brat was annoying to him. He was NEVER like this as a baby... Always getting into things, stealing other people's things and blaming it on someone else. He was getting into even more trouble now since he did before the punk had been born! Not that he minded, of course, since Demare enjoyed chaos more than just about anything else. The boy sighed and finally looked away from the cat child, eyeing the box he had been working on since that day we left from Karan's. It still wasn't finished... The base form for the caravan. He'd managed to get some work on it done, however, and now only the hardest part was left.

He was able to curve the flaps of the lid enough to make a roof, and heavily taped them together to that it would stay curved. On one side, he cut out a door for Karan to crawl through, so that the baby would be able to tuck himself into bed instead of relying on his guardian to do so. Now, the final touch before taking it back to his friend was the wheels, and he couldn't figure out how to go about that. It would be lame if they were just drawn on... There had to be SOMETHING he could attach.

The child's thoughts were interrupted as something soft smacked him right in the back of the head. Demare twitched and snarled at the baby as he turned to glare, the cat demon giggling and applauding at the funny reaction. He'd had just about enough of that... that... HAPPY look on his face. It was time to give the kid a scare for once.

"Look, you little brat," he hissed, standing up quickly and stomping right up to the crib, grasping the railing tightly with both hands. Manior plopped down onto his bottom, his tail flicking happily now that his brother had finally come closer. "I'm not watching you because I WANT to! I could leave here and let you rot for all I care! Cry your stupid little ba--"

Demare stopped screaming as he realized something. Manior's eyes had grown large and round, curiously looking toward the railing as his ears perked up a bit. The kid wasn't even listening to him! ...What was he looking at, though? His black eye followed the other's gaze toward his hand, finally taking notice to the cold sensation his right arm was feeling.

His eyes widened a little bit. His hand was... on fire. Releasing the railing, he lifted the flame closer to himself, inspecting the odd occurrence. A black fire...

It didn't hurt. In fact, it felt rather cold, as if he were holding onto ice. Demare quickly returned to normal, moving his hand a little bit as he idly wondered how he caused this to even happen. As he moved his fingers, the flame spread to move along with them, like metal moving toward a magnet. Maybe it could...

Demare balled his hand into a tight fist, and the flame disappeared.

Manior frowned slightly, his ears dropping back a little bit. Where did it go? The pretty black thing on his hand? Mommy person and Daddy person never made things like that, and it was cool! It reminded him of his hot plushie, too. Puckering out his bottom lip, the baby began to search the room, clumsily getting back up to his feet as his short tail curled back and forth, hoping to find the flame again.

It didn't take him long to plop back down onto his bottom, thumping his tail against the crib's mattress while looking back up at his brother worriedly. He couldn't find it...

Demare simply raised a brow, and thought nothing more of the look the young child was giving him. Instead, his attention had gone back to his balled fist, his right eye narrowing a little further than usual. Very slowly, the halfing began to uncurl his fingers...

Resting within the palm of his hand was a small ball of black fire, feeling like ice as he willed the creation to float up a little bit. The shadowy flame flickered and danced along his fingertips as he began to play with the new power, making it grow and shrink by curling and uncurling his fist. Interesting... He had no idea he could make shadows do this.

Manior watched with large blue eyes, completely amazed as his brother played with the dark object. It was hot, wasn't it? Just like the orange kind of flaming things? Or was this different because it was black? His ears swiveled and flicked a little bit, becoming more and more curious of Demare's new toy, and reached his tiny hands upward in hopes the other child would let him play, too.

After all, it was only right to share.

The fire began to spit and hiss for a moment, little black sparks popping and flying away from the ball as a new presence seemed to fill the room, the flame fading away. Instinctively, Demare reached his right hand toward the bandages around his waist, but immediately cursed himself as he was reminded that his dagger wasn't there. Dipping his left arm into the crib, he prepared to scoop up the baby into his arms, a bit surprised at how calm he was. The presence felt... evil. Extremely evil...

Manior blinked a few times, looking up at his brother with confusion as he failed to understand exactly what was going on. Why did he look troubled? His ears perked up a little bit, his eyes shifting to the right before he turned his head to look, tiny fingers wrapping themselves around Demare's black tattered scarf. This feeling was a little familiar, the cat baby realized. Mommy person felt really scared the last time he felt this presence, and was so angry. Was he supposed to be scared, too?

"Myaa?" he finally questioned, completely breaking the silence that lingered in the room. "Hoo dehr?"

Demare was still for a long moment as he caught a glimpse of something moving out of the corner of his left eye. It figured that the cat demon would pick up the slight shift in the air before he would, much less the sound of material rubbing against itself. Placing his left hand carefully behind Manior's back, he turned to look at the mysterious man, wondering how he'd managed to get into the room without Juubei or himself catching on early enough.

The man was dressed in black from head to toe, his tan flesh the only color one could see, and even that was scarce. He stood tall compared to most that Demare knew, the powerful aura only adding to the intimidation as fear began to strike even Demian's heart. His arms were folded across his chest, a slightly green tint shimmering through his right-gloved fist, a smirk worn on his lips. The red eyes hidden behind dark shades were watching the halfling, having seen the shadow fire the boy had created.

"Well..." his voice finally came, the man lowering his head to peer at the children from behind his glasses, "this makes things much more interesting."

Demare quickly found that he couldn't move. What was this...? Who the hell was this creep?!

You picked the perfect time to take a nap, Demian quietly cursed his angelic half, suddenly wishing that Clare had been in control instead of himself. If only I had my dagger...

Manior, on the other hand, was anything but scared. He squealed and giggled happily, releasing Demare's scarf and leaning over to start crawling on all fours toward the dark man. Maybe he was a new playmate! Even if he wasn't, he wanted to know what the shiny thing in his hand was. Was it a toy? Was it a toy for HIM??

"Myaa!" the cat demon called, standing up carefully and using the railing of his crib for support.

THAT FOOL! Demian screamed to himself. He's going to get us both into trouble!

The man turned his eyes downward, sneering at the baby. This was the child, wasn't it? Neko's precious son... Hideous. He looked just like that angel b*****d, yet with Neko's unique physical traits. How could she have possibly chosen that freak over him...? A part of him began to regret not killing the baby when he was still inside of the cat demon.

"This is what they created, hm?" he said with disgust, dropping one arm as the other slowly began to reach for the boy's head. "How... pathetic."

"D-DON'T!" Demare cried, still unable to move. However, now it was no longer from fright... Something was preventing his mobility.

He paused for a moment, then continued to move his hand, gently placing it against the baby's bald hand and scratching the boy's furry ears with leather-covered fingers.

"Don't worry, kid," he muttered, narrowing his eyes a little bit as he listened to the child's soft purr. "I'm not going to hurt him." Yet...

Demare couldn't accept that. He didn't know the man... so he couldn't be trusted. As much as he pretended not to care about the baby brat, a part of him did care, and that touch was enough to drive Demian's anger over the edge. The two red eyes above his right opened wide as the halfling growled, his wings stiffening as he forced himself to reach out and snatch the man's wrist with his right hand, squeezing hard while he gathered Manior quickly with his left.

"I said DON'T!" he screamed, glaring up at him as he threw up the hand, stepping backward quickly in case the mysterious man decided to try to lash out. "She'll be pissed if anything happens to him!"

He snarled, rubbing at his wrist as he watched the children retreat. That kid... He looked so young, but he was quite strong... Strong enough to hurt him.

"You..." he growled, but stopped himself and took a deep breath. Exhaling slowly, the man tried again, keeping as calm as possible. "She isn't your mother... Why do you care what happens to her son?"

Demare twitched a little bit, the remark hitting a bit of a sensitive nerve. Why did he care?

"I... I don't..." he stammered quietly, looking down for a moment before turning his white eye toward the confused baby. "It's just... no one's allowed to pick on him except for me. And I don't wanna get blamed for something I didn't do."

A dark brow was lifted, and he shook his head a little bit. This one was interesting, indeed. Emotionally unstable, a predator, yet he protects his prey. ...Perhaps he'll end up being useful to him in the future.

"You've got guts, ki--"

"Stop calling me that," the child hissed, his eyes narrowing into glaring slits. "My name is Demare."

"Demare, huh...?" An odd name for an odd child. How fitting. "You're brave, I'll give you that much. However, do some research before ******** with the wrong people. Just be glad I'm not here for a fight today."

The mysterious man cracked his knuckles in annoyance, doing his best to hold back from simply throwing the two children into a wall.

The child didn't quite understand. Here for a fight...? He didn't even know him! What was the point in fighting a stranger?

"Why did you come here?" Demare finally demanded, his wings twitching a little bit as Manior grew distracted and started reaching for the broken black one. "What do you want with us?"

The man began to laugh, lifting a hand to his forehead as he just seemed to roar. This was too much fun! He'd be able to play games all day with this one.

"Us?" he echoed, sighing lightly as he calmed down. Removing his dark sunglasses, he rubbed gloved fingers over his eyes. "I had no interest in you until just now. The brat in your arms, however... He was the original reason I came."

Taking in a deep breath, he exhaled slowly, opening his eyes to reveal the fearful red that had been hidden. His glance was intense and unmoving; the feeling in the room had changed from evil to pure bloodlust. It was as if he were ready to strike the next thing that moved, wanting his mark to be left within the room.

It was as if he wanted to be found out.

Demare froze, once again unable to move as he stared right into the man's eyes, his bi-colored wide and blank, for once showing nothing but fear. Even the two red eyes above his right were open, both souls pierced by the simple glance, idly wondering if death would be upon them once more.

Manior, unable to take much more of the bad feeling, wiggled and squirmed out of Demare's arms and landing himself on the nearby bed. While he was curious about everything that was happening, none of it made sense to him, and he was getting bored. ...And sleepy. Crawling close enough to the pillow, the demon baby settled himself down and curled up right on top of the soft "mattress", closing his blue eyes as he drifted off to sleep.

The halfling slowly reached a now free hand up toward his chest, wrapping his fingers tightly around the treasured pendant around his neck, seeking some form of comfort. Swallowing hard, he gathered as much courage as he could to speak again.

"W-why...?" was all he could get out, hoping the aura flooding the room was just nothing.

The man smirked, lifting up his balled fist and uncurling his fingers slowly. Resting in the palm of his hand was a small stone, perhaps no bigger than a regular marble, completely round and glowing green. A new feeling began to fill the room, though now it was confusion.

"I just wanted to give him something," he said coolly, shifting his hand a little bit so that the stone would roll downward, and caught it between his thumb and index finger. "However, I'll give it to you, instead. You have more in common with it than the brat does."

Demare quickly got over the fright, twitching as he grew irritated instead. Opening his mouth to make a remark, he was caught off-guard as the man tossed the stone at him, the marble-sized rock landing right into a fold in his scarf. Blinking a few times, he reached up and dug out the gem, letting it roll into his palm as he stared down at it. A feeling of fear immediately began to wash over him, but just as quick as it came, the feeling was replaced by happiness. UGH!! What the hell was this thing?!

"It feels funny!" he huffed, glaring at the dark man, noticing the he was turning to leave. "I don't wa--HEY!! Don't leave yet! What am I supposed to do with this thing?!"

"Whatever you want with it," he replied, smiling to himself as he returned his sunglasses to their proper place, heavy boots carrying him back toward the window.

"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!" Demare screamed, not satisfied with the answer, but wanting to know at least a name.

The man stopped for a moment, his hands at his sides, as he seemed to think about the question. The kid... hadn't quite earned the right to know who he really was. However, he did warrant at least that tiny bit of information.

"...You'll find out soon enough," he told the boy, turning his head to look over his shoulder for a moment. "However, it's up to her to tell you who I really am."

Looking back forward, he stuffed his hands into his pants pockets and began to walk again, not stopping as he reached the wall and simply walked right through it, the evil presence in the room leaving along with him.

Demare fell down to his knees, dropping his hands as he tried to explain to himself what had just happened. Tears began to fall freely from his eyes as the stone rolled away from him a little bit, lifted itself into the air, and floated around the child's head.

Demare stirred a bit, the sun warm against his skin. His eyelids flinched, slowly blinking open as the halfling tried to fully awaken from his slumber, his muscles sore and his head feeling as though he'd been hit with a two ton hammer. He felt uncomfortable on his back, his wings feeling like they were in an odd position, and there was a cool sensation on his chest. Carefully lifting his head, his bi-colored eyes looked to the curled up fiend on top of him, the small looking body resting on most of his torso. Chrys appeared to be sleeping.

Grumbling slightly, he let his head drop back to the hard wood floor, lifting a hand to push back his reddish hair before rubbing at his sleepy eyes, sniffling a little bit. As he rubbed, he noticed that his hand felt a little different, almost a bit more course and tougher than he remembered. Stopping in mid rub, Demare opened his eyes, allowing them to focus before holding his arm up, even his bones aching a bit. The halfling blinked a few times, staring at his now much longer, slightly muscular, and flesh colored arm.

The Legend quickly sat up, throwing the shadow off of his chest, his larger wings stretching themselves out now that they were free from behind his back. Chrys rolled on the floor a little bit, but continued to sleep, as if he hadn't been moved. Looking to the right, the halfling looked into what should have been the shattered mirror, but instead was a new mirror, complete with a new black cherry colored oak frame with intricate carvings around its broad pieces covering the closet door. The reflection was different now; instead of showing Demare's face, Clare stared back at him, bright blue eyes hardly able to take in the new body he appeared to be in. Slowly reaching his hands up toward his face, he lightly brushed his long fingers down his cheeks and neck, taking in his older features. Shifting up onto his knees, the now teenager stood up tall, his outstretched wings crashing into the ceiling a little bit. Drooping them down enough, Demare looked himself over completely, wondering how this could have happened.

Demian? the angel voiced to himself, almost shocked by the way he sounded. This was strange to him... He hadn't had the chance to grow before.

The teen waited for a long moment for the demon to answer, and sighed as he was merely greeted with silence. "Great... I actually want to say something and you're giving me the silent treatment."

"I'm doing what now?" Demian spoke up, his image stepping into view in the mirror. The demon appeared to be older as well, his black hair and gold eyes opposing Clare's blonde hair and blue eyes. While the angel's flesh was fair toned, his had even more color, now carrying a golden brown tint. "I just woke up, dude."

I called you, and you didn't respond, he replied, folding his arms across his bare chest. Or are you mad?

The other yawned, stretching out his arms and back before cracking his neck and shoulders. "Well? What's up? I didn't come over here just to be glared at."

Huh? Clare blinked a few times, quirking a brow. "Can... you not hear me?"

"...You... said something?" Demian scratched his arms, frowning slightly. "I didn't hear anything..."

The fiend in the corner rolled onto his back before slowly opening his dark eyes, his arms stretched out on the ground. Lifting himself into the air, his eyes squinted into what seemed like a smile as he folded his hands up close to his face.

YEEE! You awake! the fiend cheered, floating a little closer to the halfling. Was sleeping for days!

"Days...? Damn, no wonder everything hurts..." the demon said, rubbing at his neck. "Maybe we're just out of sync."

Was scary! Body gone away, then ugly thing came. Dropped body and ran... I scare away! Chrys sounded so proud of himself. If only they knew that he was really cowering under the bed the whole time the ugly beast was in the room.

"Dropped... the body...?" Perhaps that's why they were put to sleep, so that the body could be replaced without endangering themselves. But that didn't explain why he couldn't communicate with Demian. "Maybe we damaged the other one too much..."

"...Or... maybe they couldn't create a body that could hold the both of us as we matured..."

"What are you..." Clare began to ask, but his voice trailed off as he noticed Demian grasping his right shoulder. Black sparks seemed to start from the back somewhere, and spread down to about his elbow. Aside from those markings, there were no other ones on the body. The seals that controlled their power was gone.

This body was completely new. It was like they were starting over from scratch, only physically instead of entirely.

Said be careful! Chrys piped up, taping a finger where his mouth would have been. He was trying to remember what the creepy creature had mentioned before disappearing. More pain, bad to switch. Can die?

The boys were quiet as they looked at the fiend, trying to make sense of what had been done. So the price for growing up... would be that they had to live separately? It felt both good and bad at the same time, and idly Demian wondered if there was a catch to this happening. Clare, on the other hand, felt like this were an opportune time to continue his research on their seemingly unique body.

"Well... at least now we'll be able to have time to ourselves," the angel spoke up first, glancing toward the mirror. "We won't really have to worry about the other popping in at the wrong time."

"Yeah... I guess..." Demian wasn't sure he'd like this. It sounded nice, but how would this really affect things in the long run? "We'll take turns... Every other day?"

"Something like that... I guess it'll all depend on how much it hurts to switch now. Can we determine that later, though? I have this sudden urge to eat... some sort of greasy meat. I read somewhere that older people ate a lot of junk food... I hope we don't do that."

"Eh, whatever. I might suggest putting some clothes on, first."

Demare's face turned completely red, only now realizing that he was butt naked. Chrys giggled as the halfling quickly opened the closet door and disappeared inside to try and find something that would fit before asking Domonic about buying some new clothes. The least they could have done was given him a new wardrobe. Lazy beast.

Chrys winced and writhed in his sleep, clutching the blanket on the bed tightly as his form shivered and shook. If he were able, he would have been sweating buckets, something obviously troubling as he mumbled and stirred, tiny whimpers emitting from his throat. Granted, no one could hear from aside from Demare, and the teenager was currently sleeping himself.

The fiend awoke with a start, jolting up into the air, his black eyes growing large. The little shadow peered about frantically, breathing heavily. What was all of that? A dream? No... it was too frightening to be a dream. A memory...? He didn't remember any of that, though, and he couldn't imagine EVER torturing someone the way that the creature had. It felt so real, though... So... familiar.

Shaking his head, Chrys floated back down to the bed, watching Demare's sleeping body as he started to calm down a little bit. The fiend desperately wanted to awaken his bond, wishing to speak to the other about the issue, but decided that it would be better not to make him angry. After all, this would be the halfling's first Christmas in which something didn't go horribly wrong, and he didn't want to ruin that. Instead, the shadow curled up close to him, hoping the Legend wouldn't mind tonight as he huddled against the strong right arm. He nuzzled his head gently against the hand, fingers wrapping about the warmth as he closed his eyes and began to drift toward sleep.

What he did not notice, however, is that the man's index finger was going right through his green head, right where the fiend's sharpied toothy grin was.

Demian shivered a little bit, standing in the snow as he checked the watch around his wrist. Whoever had called him out here was late, and he was getting irritated. Who would call him out at 11 o'clock and night, anyway? The demon ran a hand through his spiked up black hair, trying to get rid of the snow that was accumulating in it. His gold eyes searched the darkness one last time before he shoved his hands into his pockets, turning on his heel to begin to leave.

"Demian, wait!" called a voice, the sound of footsteps crunching in the thick snow getting louder. "Please!"

The teenager looked over his shoulder, eyes widening slightly. "[*****]?"

To his surprise, there was no one there. In fact, there was nothing behind him now, not even the lighted street lamp he was just standing under. Demian looked back in front of himself, realizing that everything seemed to have disappeared. What was going on...? He was just out in the snow, wasn't he? Warily, he took a few steps forward, listening to his footsteps as the sound changed from crunching snow to loose dust and rock, a thick fog beginning to surround the area.

The air became stagnant and stale, hard to breath as he continued to walk through the darkness. Something caught his foot, causing the demon to stumble to the ground, dirt thrust into his eyes and mouth as he was caught by surprise. He coughed and rubbed at his face, his sight blurring with tears as they stung. Then, it struck him. The irreplaceable smell that hung in the air, a stench that could never be ignored as it filled one's nostrils.

Death.

"What the ******** is going on here?" he demanded to know, coughing again as he slowly stood himself up, his eyes narrowing down into a glare. Why the hell was he back here?

He could feel his wings materializing onto his back, a slight pain stirring against his shoulder blades as they reattached themselves to his body. How his people ever managed to get used to that, he had no idea. Demian only wanted to try it out, not wanting any funny looks from people, considering he had been fairly close by a church.

"ANSWER ME!" he growled, searching the fog the best that he could. It was useless, he knew, but he had to try and find something.

Something sliding across the ground caught his ears as he quickly turned to look in the direction of which it had come, but could see nothing. The sound came again from the opposite direction, the demon's head snapping around to try and catch whatever it was. Still nothing. Whatever it was, it was moving in a circle, watching his movements, laying in wait for the perfect moment.

And he was afraid.

Demare swallowed hard as he tossed his head from left to right, his closed eyelids flinching as he continued to sleep. His left hand twitched a little bit before he turned his body to lie on his right side, his arm draping over the fiend cuddled close to him. As if the body knew he was there, he lifted his hand to gently stroke the shadow's green hair, careful of the creature's horns, before moving to hold him close.

Chrys blinked his eyes open, not really used to the gesture, as Demare usually pushed him away if he tried to close on top of or too close to him. He took advantage of the situation, however, hugged the teenager's arm a little bit, closing his eyes in an attempt to wander back into his dream. He opened them again after a moment, however, realizing that something was amiss. His bond felt very wet... Pressing a long ear against the halfling's bare chest, he could hear the quick paced heartbeat coming from within the body.

The fiend clutched onto Demare's hands worriedly, turning his black eyes toward them. "Oh, no... What have I done?"

Demian's breath began to grow heavy as he continued to search the immediate area, too scared to move in fear of being chased. He didn't know what he was up against, nor did he really care to find out. However, the attack was inevitable, and he didn't even see it coming.

His gold eyes grew large as he felt a sharp pain against his body, feeling a large part of himself being engulfed by something. A coppery taste began to fill his mouth as red liquid began to drip out, his form growing cold with dread. Very slowly, he turning his head to the left, his eyes meeting with 4 glowing green ones, which belonged to the hideous creature that had its jaws locked onto his flesh. Tears began to stream down the demon's face.

The sharp teeth clamped down the rest of the way, and all that could be heard was the man's white scream.

The halfling woke up with a gasp, choking slightly on the air as his bi-colored eyes shot open. He sat up quickly, his hands frisking his body to make sure he was still all there. He was shaking, covered in sweat, his reddish hair matted against his face.


"Oh God..." he managed to get out with a shaky breath, covering his hands with his face for a moment before running his fingers through his hair, resting them against the back of his neck. "s**t... What the ******** was that...?"

Demare took a few deep breaths to calm himself down, closing his eyes as he arched and stretched himself out a little bit, his wings flexing and stretching as far as they could. Exhaling slowly, he relaxed some, shaking his head as he threw off his blanket, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed to rest his feet on the floor. Idly, he cursed the fact that he decided to wear his pajama bottoms that night, just about ready to simply tear them off. He stopped, however, turning his eyes toward a very wide-eyed Chrys, who was cowering and moving backwards, shaking in fear.

"What's wrong Chrys?" he finally asked, wondering if maybe one of his shadow beasts had manifested itself while he'd been sleeping.

"It... I... How can... That is..." was all the fiend could get out.

It wasn't until then that the halfling felt the presence behind him, something breathing down the back of his neck. He froze, almost imagining the searing pain from his dream, his wings stiffening. <******** it... have about eight glowing eyes or so...?" he asked curiously, as if he needed reassurance.

Chrys nodded slowly.

"Maybe about... four horns on its head, and body pretty damn spiky and hard looking?"

Another slow nod.

"Long claws, large dark green body."

Nodnod.

"Legs kinda like a t-rex."

Nodnodnod.

"Big snout, probably lotsa sharp teeth." Demare was amazingly calm, a smirk spreading across his face.

Chrys was confused by the reaction, but continued to nod, now backed up against the wall.

"He's gotta be ********> son of a b***h, then," he concluded before jumping up from the bed, just in time to miss a hard swing from the beast.

That certainly made it angry, whatever it was. It growled and snarled at the two, its roar a screeching howl. Its mouth was very large, containing several sharp blackened teeth, and for a moment it almost looked as if its jaw reached all the way down to its chest. Bulky arms wasted no time in picking up the bed the creature was standing behind, throwing it at the boys. Demare caught it however, the force pushing him back toward the full-length mirror on the closet door. He couldn't let that get broken...

"Oh, so you wanna play catch, huh?" he sneered, swinging the bed as hard as he could back toward the beast. "FETCH."

The wooden boards shattered against the hard shell, splinters falling to the floor with the mattress and bed stuffs in a heap. The child was NOT humorous, its eyes beginning to glow brighter in the darkness, the large form hunkering down a little bit.

Chrys seemed to know what it was doing, however, as he quickly tried to usher his bond toward the window. If the creature was indeed what he thought it was, then he would be getting ready to try to knock them out.

"Demian, please!" he begged, trying his best to open the lock. If they were outside, there would be enough clean air to bypass what was coming. "Things get broken here. Outside more space! Can call help!"

"What? It's COLD out there, you idiot!" the teenager scowled, shuffling his way toward the fiend. "I can contain this ******** if I can open the re--"

"You not understand! OUTSIDE! I no want to hurt you!" the shadow pleaded, his dark eyes looking sad.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Demare asked, quirking a brow. He fixed the tie on his black pajama bottoms, making sure the waist was tight enough so his pants wouldn't fall down. "What do you mean you don't want to hurt me? That's the b*****d that ate part of my soul when I died."

If he could cry, he would have been bawling. No tears dripped from his eyes, however, as his shoulders heaved with silent sobs. Chrys didn't want to explain it... not yet. He didn't even want to REMEMBER what he had.

"Might kill you," he went on with instead, getting the lock undone and pushing the window open. "Might try to eat what left."

The fiend didn't wait for his bond, simply floating out into the open before looking back to make sure there was still time. Green smog seemed to be spilling from the beast's mouth, and it looked at though it was about to completely overflow.

Demare looked between the two of them for a moment, not liking the fact that it felt like he was running away. Granted, if the thing followed, then he'd be able to give it a good one two. If not... A part of him wondered if it would attack the rest of the house. That alone seemed to allow him to make up his mind, the halfling pulling himself onto the window ledge. Tucking his wings in close to his back, he took in a deep breath before exhaling it slowly, jumping out the window and into the snow below.

Just in time, as well. The beast finally opened it huge mouth, roaring as a strange gas began to fill the room. It cry shook the house, shattering the glass to the room's window, the pieces showering down right over the ********!!" he swore, flinching as a few pieces cut his flesh, shaking his head to get pieces out of his hair. He carefully moved himself away from the house, having a delayed reaction to the cold against his bare feet, reconsidering the endangerment of the other members of the house. "What is that stuff, anyway? Looks like it would stink..."

"Poison," Chrys explained calmly, hovering around Demare. "Uses to knock out or kill prey nerves."

"Sounds... useful," the man admitted, shrugging a bit. He didn't think much of why the fiend knew this, he just figured it might have been an element thing. "Why the ******** is it here?"

The shadow thought about this for a moment, tapping a finger against his sharpied grin. It was in his dream, not that long ago. Then, his dream somehow transferred over to Demare's subconscious. The beast had appeared before the halfling awoke, however, so maybe it had something to do with the transfer? Unless...

He smacked his fist against the palm of his hand, realizing the possibilities. Of course!! It might have something to do with the others!

"Catch it!" he requested, looking to his bond. "We bring to Athan and Mystic. Maybe lost."

The teenager's left eye twitched slightly. CATCH it...? Catch the ******** THING that nearly destroyed his chance of ANY existence back when he was awaiting judgment? And then bring it to his BOSS???

"You... must be OUT OF YOUR ******** MIND," he declared, growling a little bit. "Why in Hell's name should I show that ******** any mercy?!"

The fiend thought about this for a moment. "You said... useful."

"What's your point?" he huffed, realizing his feet were starting to go numb. He needed to end this quickly before the body got frostbite, if that was even possible.

"Maybe can turn to shadow," Chrys thought, figuring it could potentially be done. "Add to beasts, use for self."

...That didn't sound like a bad idea. The beast could come in handy some day, and would even make a good scaring critter.

"Alright, I'll catch it," he decided, turning his bi-colored eyes toward his room. The gas was spilling out into the open, dissipating into the air. "How do we get it outside?"

The shadow moved upward after picking up some snow from the ground, tossing it hard toward the house. It had good aim, and even managed to hit something inside. The beast moved in sight of the window, its many eyes peering out toward the fiend.

"FATHEAD," Chrys called, as if he could be heard.

"Chrys, I'm the only one who can hear you," Demare sighed, giving him a blank stare.

"STINK BREATH! MONSTER!"

The creature shrieked at that last cry, obviously not liking the word. The boys were surprised as it came crashing out of the room, landing quickly and heavily on the ground, the beast now seeming much larger than it originally had. It roared again, saliva flying out of its mouth and hitting Demare right in the face.

"Awwwh, DAMN..." he whined in disgust, wiping the gooey spit off of himself. "That's ******** NASTY, you p***k!"

It was, however, what he needed to get fired up. Extending his wings, the teenager tightened his right fist and drew his arm back. In the cover of night, the darkness began to take form, the shadows gathering to make it grow.

"Don't spit when you talk!" he demanding, swinging his arm around hard, and the fist of darkness following in suit. It caught the beast square in the upper jaw, knocking him off balance.

The creature was able to retain a stance, unfortunately, quickly regaining its composure. It hissed, narrowing its eyes; the glow emitting from them seemed to grow, manipulating itself into energy. They shot a concentrated beam at the man, managing a direct hit as it caused the child to fly backward, sliding against the ground as he landed.

"Ugh...! Son of a b***h!" Demare hissed, grasping his chest as the burning sensation seemed to spread against his body. "********!! Chrys, what the hell was that??"

Chrys looked on in horror, not knowing that would happen. Quickly, he flew over to his bond's aid, inspecting the slightly charred area the best that he could. Lightly, he brushed his fingers only the abdomen, noticing it was a little more tender than it should have been. There didn't seem to be any actual damage, however, so he assumed it was merely a bruise.

"Just force," he concluded with a nod. "Energy? Taste good...?"

The halfling waved the shadow off, rolling his eyes a little bit. Man, that hurt like a mother...! Carefully, he stood himself up, waving his right hand across the ground. Black flames erupted from the snow, creating a circle around himself and the beast before reaching upward toward the Heavens, creating a dome of shadow.

"You wanna play rough, huh?" he spat through clenched teeth, his eyes narrow slits as darkness just seemed to flow out of his right side, as if it were leaking out of his body. "Well, let's ********' dance!"

Demare didn't waste any time in charging toward the creature, his voice carrying some sort of battle cry. The beast did the same, screeching its deafening roar as it took its clumsy steps forward, able to meet the boy in the middle. It reached its large hands down toward him in an attempt to grab him, but the halfling jumped out of the way, leaping into the air to land on the monster's hands. From there, he jumped again, this time using more force, and landing a swift but hard kick to its face. The beast cried out, swaying to the right, then swung its head quickly to the left in retaliation, managing to head butt the teenager into the wall of the arena. As he slid down toward the ground, it began to form its gas again in hopes to putting the damned kid to sleep.

It became distracted, however, as Chrys threw a snowball into its back. The monster turned its head to see what was going on, and got another snowball in the face, the melting ice slipping down its snout. How... irritating. The fiend didn't give up, however, as he continued to throw the snow as quickly as he could, wishing to buy the Legend more time. One of the balls managed to hit the creature in one of its eyes, causing it to screech as it got even angrier. (Like that was even possible.) Once again, the glow around its eyes began to glow brighter and manipulate into energy, the beast hissing at its new target.

"Chrys, look out!" Demare warned, struggling to stand as he got air back into his lungs after the last blow, stumbling as he ran toward the shadow.

The fiend wanted this all along, however. Quickly, he floated closer to the beast, thrusting his hands forward just as the beam was shot, and began to absorb the energy.

"Quickly!" he urged his friend, not sure how much he'd even be able to take in. After all, he'd never eaten this type of energy before, and it felt very hot. "Try to contain him!"

Snorting, the creature used more pressure on the beam, forcing the shadow back a little bit. Chrys kept at it, however, despite how full he was feeling, and the fact that the energy was beginning to leak out of his body, the stone in his chest glowing a little bit. The halfling was a bit conflicted, not sure how to do what would be needed to contain the beast.

"We need to be outside of the dome!" he tried to explain. "He needs to be weaker!"

Weaker? Perhaps a shock would be enough. Without much more thought, the fiend struggled and forced his way forward, looking away a little bit as the glow became too bright for him to look at, the energy swirling around his green form. Finally, he was close enough, and he latched onto the creature's face, causing the energy to attack them both. The breast cried out in shock and pain as its attack was directed back to itself, and Chrys screamed as he began to be electrocuted.

"CHRYS!!!" the halfling cried out, his eyes growing wide. That IDIOT!! Even if that would help a lot, it was more dangerous than it was worth. "Damn it, you're going to get yourself killed!!"

The fiend didn't care. He would do whatever was needed to save his bond, much less himself. After all, in all technicality... he was saving himself FROM himself. Perhaps Demare would never need to know that the creature was his past self, coming back to haunt him for whatever reason. This was the part of his history that he didn't care to remember, it being the worst part of his life. And to find out that it was his own fault that the halfling was the way that he was now...

The beast fell to its knees as it managed to stop its attack, its massive body smoldering as its breath hissed and whistled. Chrys finally let go, floating down to the ground as his body twitched and jolted as green bolts sparked against his flesh, the energy swirling around his stone. Demare carefully picked him up, stepping to the edge of the dome where the shadows opening up to release them before closing again behind them. Gently, he placed the fiend back down onto the snow, blank eyes watching him convulse. Idiot...

Turning to the arena, the halfling lifted his right hand, muttering a strange language as red bolts of energy emerged from the shadows, the black dome growing smaller and smaller as his hand curled into a fist. After a few moments, the darkness was merely a little ball, about the size of a large marble, resting in the blanket of white next to his feet. Dropping down to his knees, Demare sighed, rubbing his eyes as he could see the dawn beginning to poke its head out in the east. Picking up the ball, he held it close to Chrys' stone, allowing the energy to be absorbed.

The green fiend awoke groggily, his body feeling like it had about 1,000 bolts run through it. His black eyes lazily moved about the room, his small form sitting up and taking things in. The sun was up now, if one was able to see it through the thick clouds, and more snow was falling outside. There was a fresh new blanket on the ground, and a part of him wanted to play in it.

...WAITAMINUTE. His hands quickly frisked his body, blinking as he tried to figure out what was going on. Wasn't he hurt? Didn't he eat too much energy and DIE? His stone wasn't cracked or anything, and only his shadowy body felt achy. No physical damage whatsoever.

Did any of that even happen...? Or was it just a really messed up dream.

The fiend looked around for a moment, noticing that Demare wasn't in the room with him. Everything appeared to be intact, however, including the broken bed (which was now whole again). If he were able to, he would have been frowning, a part of him sad that none of that had happened. But then again, perhaps that was a good thing. Floating out into the hallway, he stopped and quickly went back into the room, instead peeking out of the doorway. He noticed Demare and Domonic standing outside, the blonde haired man looking rather angry.

"I don't care WHAT happened, you still knocked a hole in your wall, broke your window AND your bed, and somehow managed to burn your hand in the process," he scolded, arms folded across his chest. "Nightmares, monsters, whatever you want to call them... You're still responsible."

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" Demare sighed, rubbing the back of his neck with his left hand. "I don’t... I don't know what happened; I hardly even understand it myself. Just... I'll pay for it. It'll take me a while, but..."

Domonic rubbed his temple and forehead, exhaling slowly. How Neko ever did any of this, he would never understand. He had his own way of doing things, and he felt it would be better for the house if he finally did something about it.

"Don't... worry about it," he started, nodding his head a little bit. "This is the last time I'm fixing things, though. Come spring, I'm going to be moving everyone to the house I bought before your mothe--"

"She's not my ********..." the Legend bit his tongue, clasping a hand over his mouth for a moment. "I... I'm sorry. Go on."

"...before your mother died. I think that... it would be best for you, and possibly for everyone else... if you stayed here," he continued to say, turning his eyes to the floor. "Not everyone will want to move, so I'll leave you with this house and Merrimack or Tai-bo can help you take care of whoever stays behind."

Demare closed his eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath as his wings drooped down. He couldn't believe this was happening... Actually, no, he could.

"You never liked me, did you?" he asked, pursing his lips as he opened his eyes again, clenching his heavily bandaged fist a little bit. "You only tolerated me because she wanted you to."

Domonic knew that was coming. "To be honest, no. You were a horrible child compared to your other side, you worried the hell out of Neko... You even caused her physical harm. But for God only knows what reason, she still loved you more than anything, and you didn't get that until it was too late."

He dropped his arms down to his sides, his feet beginning to turn him around to head down the stairs.

"However, I didn't know how much you meant to me, as well, until it was also too late. If I hated you, Demare, I would have thrown you out the first chance I had. However, the both of you mean a lot to this family, and you are still my son whether you think so or not. That in itself means that I will always love you, despite how it may seem. Now, go wash up and come downstairs... Some of the younger children are going to throw fits if they can't open their gifts soon, and Manny refuses to open them without you."

The halfling turned on his heel and stepped back toward his room, stopping at the doorway as he noticed Chrys staring up at him with sad eyes. He merely blinked and walked right past him, making his way toward his dresser.

"Don't look at me like that," he told him, shifting through his clothes. "I did what I had to do. You're lucky to be alive, I think. Anyway, I'll bring that thing with me next time I work... Maybe Athan will know something about it."

The fiend was right by his side, brushing his fingers against the bandage. "You... save me."

"What's your point?" Demare questioned, looking down at the shadow.

He twitched as green arms were flung around his waist. "You DO care!! heart "

"DAMN IT, CHRYS, GET OFF OF ME!"