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Bassett made his way to the casino, riding his bike there as fast as he possibly could. He didn't want to be there any longer than he needed to, especially if he were going to dodge nightfall. He could fly, yes, but...Well, in all honesty, Bassett wasn't as good as flying as he would like to be. not only that, but he was sure he didn't want to make himself look too suspicious. Pey, crouched on the back of the bike, complaining in his ear the entire way down. Bassett just ignored him, focused on the job ahead. Hooking his bike up to one of the poles outside the flamboyant building, Bassett blinked at the light. It was bright, very bright. Almost too bright for a casino.

Good.

Bassett entered in the large building and looked around, pulling his jacket straight and making sure his hat was affixed firmly over his white horns. There were a lot of people inside, and quite frankly, the instructions he received from Sofiel when he visited the Daemonologie shop just a few hours earlier, were already jumbled up in his head. After visiting Tae-yul and Sofiel for a brief five minutes to give an update on his situation, he was instructed to visit Kyrie, and to do that, he would need to go here, and speak with Mischa. Already feeling like he was a lost boy inside the casino, Bassett glanced around helplessly, trying to find the woman Sofiel described.

Pey sauntered up behind Bassett, digging his hands into his pockets. He wasn't really paying attention to anything going on. all the demon was concerned with was protecting the source of his food. And that meant going along on this stupid adventure. Pey sighed loud and long, expressing his obvious distaste about the whole deal, "This isn't inconspicuous at all. Are you even allowed in here?"

"Shut up," Bassett replied curtly, "No, I'm not. Not really. But that's okay. I'm not going to gamble or anything."

"How old are you?" the demon asked pointedly.

"I'm twenty now. My birthday was last year," he said, glancing helplessly at the people around. He didn't see anyone yet who matched Mischa's description. "I don't see anyone who looks like Mischa. Sofiel said that it would be easy to spot her."

"So close. Just one year off!" The demon chortled. "That's okay. I don't want your blood poisoned with alcohol anyway. It makes my head bleary."

"Pey, just be quiet and help me find Mischa."

Bassett stood around awkwardly for quite some time, eying the sad people around the casino. He never liked casinos, he decided. Too many sad people, too many hurt people with nothing better to do than squander their savings on these games. He tried to keep his gaze away from the faces of the people staring into the slot games and instead continued looking for the lady with the ginger hair. Ginger, ginger...Bassett spun around in a circle, lifting up onto the tips of his toes.

"Hey" Pey said, snatching his summoner's chin and turning his head towards a group who just entered the ground floor. There was a lady there in a beautiful gown that rippled like drapes when she moved. She looked very important, especially with those people following her...And those hounds...Demons? Pey furrowed his brows and pulled his grin into a wide smile, a bunch of his teeth showing themselves threateningly, "What about that nice dame over there? She has the hair you're looking for, right? And it seems like she has quite the party along with her. And that man standing behind her, he was in the Daemonologie shop."

Bassett pushed Pey's cold hand from his face, nodding wildly, "Yes! She's the one." The soldier raised his arm to wave her down, and he trotted over to her side, forgetting his own warnings to stay low. "Mischa? Is that you?" When he finally came to a stop before her, he gave her a brief salute (stupid habit), and a bow of his head with the ever so slight tip of his hat, "Hello. I'm Bassett Ellery, from Edward's shop. I need to talk with you."

Bassett smiled. This lady seemed nice enough. She was strong, he could see that, and it made him feel like a knock-kneed novice to confront her. he had half the mind to pull off his hat and hold it with both hands in front of his chest like he were a poor street urchin, if it weren't for his need to hide his horns. Instead, he settled for keeping his back straight and trying to keep his own in front of these other two men as well as the nice lady.

"Yes, they're all still fine at the shop, miss," he said, confirming her question. Then he nodded again, tempted once more to hold his hat in his hands, "I remember seeing you too, though I never did catch your name sir. You made quite the exit." But then his attention was grabbed again by Mischa.

Pey was not really a sociable demon. He enjoyed getting drunk and having smokes, telling nasty undermining jokes that would make even the highest war general blush, and making a mess out of his meal. So when the other teased him humbly, Pey did nothing short of biting his neck. The demon restrained himself and sneered his toothy smile at Theros, folding his arms across his jacket, "Means that there's just that less standing between me and your jugular." he growled.

Bassett reached towards his demon, snatching the Nameless by the collar and giving him a gentle shake, "Pey, remember your manners, we're not on the battlefield anymore. These are fellow patrons of Edward's shop. Treat them kindly." He released his demona nd looked apologetically towards the others.

Sniffing, Pey shook himself violently from Bassett's grip and stared at the other two men, challenging them with an inverted and black steely gaze.

"Sorry, we're a bit tense. Strange things have been happening," Bassett said helplessly, "It's actually why I'm here, miss. I was told by Tae-Yul and Sofiel to seek Kyrie. I heard about what happened and I'm terribly sorry about it all."

Bassett elbowed his demon when Asmodeus mentioned the punishment for misbehaving in the casino. After a short exchange of meaningful glares at one another, Pey and Bassett finally calmed and nodded their heads at Mischa and the demon prince, one of them more sulky than the other. Bassett made a touch to his hat when they were all introduced and he made it obvious to give them each a polite bow of his head after their names were given out.

"Pleasure to meet you all, I'm sure," Bassett said in his humble servant manner, "Though, I wish it were underneath better circumstances."

He listened to what Mischa said, his heart dropping lower and lower into his gut when he received word on how the hunter approached her. So it was Mischa that the Hunter was after...A Summoner. More evidence to back up his new position of danger, he decided with a weak stomach, more reason to stay inside and on his master's grounds.

"Yes, I would very much like to speak with her. Sofiel told me to do so," he reiterated, and he made the motion to follow after her, keeping his demon close behind him.

Kyrie had been awake for at least an hour, in fact, when Mischa knocked. The sound made her head spin. From outside the door, they'd hear someone shifting around under fabric; she was pushing herself up with the uninjured arm. When she was situated--covered pulled up over her chest, arms tucked tightly over her chest--she called, "Yeah," and was proud of herself when her voice didn't tremble at all. "Come in?"

Her room was... large, at least to her; the color scheme was calm blues, greens, and dark wood. Kyrie's peach-colored pajamas were her own; the sleeve was ripped (or rather, cut) off her right side. The thing no one had thought to warn her about was that her painkillers would give her nightmares. Sitting there alone, in the too-large bed, Kyrie looked as if she'd been awake for a week. Her blue eyes seemed even wider than usual in her pale face, and she certainly looked younger than seventeen. She looked more like fourteen. Twelve. Incredibly, incredibly young.

"H-hi Mischa," said Kyrie. She was trying very hard not to cry.

She smiled upon seeing Kyrie, but a bit of concern touched her face for the paleness she saw. "Are you feeling alright, Kyrie? I wanted to make sure you were alright and Bassett wanted to see you too.

Moving over to sit on the chair beside the bed, Mi watched her a few minutes. "Did you need anything?" She reached out brushing the hair from the side of Kyrie's face. "You remember what happened? Theros talked to Tae-yul and he said to keep more lights on for now. So the casino is all lit up, and that's why you have so many lights on in here. You don't mind so much light in your room, do you?"

Mi's eyes looked a bit worried as she watched the girl. The doctor had said she would be fine so long as she didn't break the injury open again. And the pills would help with the pain, but she still looked so awful. "Can I get you anything?"

"You're a demon, aren't you."

That wasn't a question. It was a statement. Bassett was struck stiff by the phrase, as if an arrow was just shot into his head, connecting the fontanel of his skull to the wall he stood against. He felt his fingers begin to tremble and he gulped, listening to what words came out of her mouth. His jaw began to quiver. The soldier, finally, as the girl requested for the mirrors to be covered, peeled himself on the wall, and without even asking, moved to pull sheets over the mirrors. It was a habit, to do things as he was told. He was, after all, a servant. When the mirrors had been covered, he stood before her bed, still a few feet away, keeping his distance. He couldn't explain it, but there was something about this girl, something tugging at the edge of his conscious knowing.

Pey, though, knew exactly what it was that was bothering Bassett. It was bothering him too, and he refused to move once he figured it out. REFUSED. That girl on the bed...She was strange. He knew it deep in himself what she was. And he refused to step any closer to her than he had to. Instead, he kept his head lowered, and himself by the door.

"Miss," Bassett said, standing before her bed, his gaze sad as he watched her gentle suffering, the way her words pulled in and out of themselves like knots, "...I didn't always used to be this way." Finally, giving into the temptation of holding his hand in his grip, the soldier took it off his skull, revealing his sharp white horns beneath and his pointed ears. He held the fabric newspaper boy's hat in his grip, rubbing the edges between his forefinger and thumb, and, unable to bring himself to look at anyone, he said, "Miss Kyrie. I was told to come see you by Tae-yul's contract, Sofiel. I'm not sure what I'm here for, I'm not sure why this is happening. But I do know that I was supposed to meet you. And I wanted to also let you know how dreadfully sorry I am about this happening to you, miss." Bassett kept his gaze at his feet, his shoulders hunched close on his neck.