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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.