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 Posted: Sat Dec 14, 2013 12:52 am
Aleria did not have many friends, but they were in possession of several acquaintances that they had made over the past two years. His motivations were unknown to Aleria, and the same extended to his allegiances. An outside source was needed for a decision of such gravitas, and the demon presumed that Aymet would do them the kindness of honesty.
Dressed in their winter finery, Aleria swept out into the Twelfth October air, relaxing in the chill. Hurrying along to the Undead dorms, they found their thoughts were fixated on the future. How strong would they be? What would their human be like? What would their new shape be, how would it twist and curve and strike?
A quiet, polite rapraprap on Aymet's door, knuckles tapped lightly against wood.
"Aymet," Aleria said, primly, "it is Aleria. I have a matter of great importance that I require your feedback upon."
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Posted: Mon Dec 16, 2013 6:33 pm
There were a series of mechanical clicks, and the heavy door pulled inward.
It was completely dark inside the cavernous room, the only light coming from the dracolich himself. Aymet looked more or less the same as usual, save for a black lock prominently embedded in the decorative metal clasp of his phylactery. He stood aside to let Aleria in, tail herding back the throng of soul eaters eager to gnaw on their ankles or escape to freedom.
"Any time. My door's always open," he smiled, before casting a dissatisfied glance to the locking mechanism. "Figuratively speaking, anyway."
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Posted: Mon Dec 16, 2013 8:05 pm
Folding their hands primly, Aleria waited for the door to open. It felt very much like waiting for a dragon to let them into its lair (which was fitting), or a goblin allowing access to a bank vault (which was not).
The demon looked up her acquaintance, smiling sharply in the way that Halloween did: with too many sharp teeth. It was comforting to know that they were not the only one who hoarded minipets, and Aymet's room was comfortingly frigid as well, a familiar environment.
"I am glad that it is figuratively open," they replied, waiting for it to shut behind them.
It would not do for prying ears to hear this discussion.
"What do you know of the Hunters, Aymet, and their place in this world?" It was an honest question; no tricks or traps.
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Posted: Thu Dec 26, 2013 1:05 pm
The door closed, and there was absolute darkness, for a moment. It wouldn't be long before eyes adjusted to the gentle glow of so many creatures underfoot, a living carpet of cold light. It made the outline of the room navigable. There was a bed, and some chairs, if one could call a slab and a couple of conveniently-shaped boulders furniture. Even a desk, covered in papers filled with writing and drawings that an innocent eye might regard as plans for a tabletop game.
"Hunters..." Aymet began, scratching his head a few times with long claws, "Are an old myth, a bedtime story to frighten scarelings into behaving. They're also a very formidable enemy type in the latest Dungeons & Humans."
He walked steadily toward a tall geode-like structure that seemed to act as a closet and perused. Strange, considering Aymet only ever seemed to wear the armor. Maybe he was planning on a wardrobe change one day.
"Hunters are real--" He pulled something out. It was a coat - mostly white but dark reddish-brown in patches, slightly torn, with a golden tree blossoming from the bottom of it. A gift from Amrita. It was cast over the slab of a bed. "They're humans, and they always show up when there's trouble. Most of us aren't aware of them. And the few that are, some... would call them the enemy. Others see them as sympathetic - they tend to disappear."
He waved a clawed hand flippantly, and perched himself on top of a 'chair' with a few clanks of metal. Two blue pinpoints followed Aleria curiously from the darkness. "Why do you ask?"
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Posted: Thu Dec 26, 2013 7:35 pm
Aleria clenched their fists momentarily as their vision was flooded with inky darkness, sharply inhaling once as the shock set in. Ah, of course. Darkness must be his preferred setting, and the demon couldn't judge him for it, even if it was a bit inconvenient for less trained eyes.
Carefully navigating the minefield of stone furniture in the dark (after bumping their shin at least twice against a chair or something like it), Aleria tried to stick close to the boil.
Hopefully he had information.
Aymet triumphantly procured a familiar looking coat, and were dazedly thankful for their incredibly pale skin as the blood drained from their face.
They tend to disappear.
A moment of silence as Aymet inquired. Perhaps they disappeared because they chose a life better than the one given to them.
"I met some," they answered truthfully. For a being of ice, the demon was the sweetest of summer children. They had never known loss. They had never known grief.
The next words were deliberately neutral: "They were not so bad as the stories."
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