Fool's Adventures: A Demon's Souls/Buffy the Vampire Slayer Quest

Your dress billows around your feet as you rush to the gate, Annie just behind you. Angel's expression fills with relief, eyes brightening, and he straightens as you push the gate open.

With the gate's creak on the air you reach Angel's side, and it looks like he is about to say something.

"Annie, take the right." Your tone is imitated seriousness, and interrupts the vampire. A good thing the Seeming is now more real than not. You think as you get under his left arm. Slinging his long arm over your shoulders you wrap your right arm around his waist, eliciting a pained groan.

"Ribs are bad, agh!" Angel says through his teeth as he edges away from you a little, likely to create some space so you do not notice he does not have a heartbeat. This close your hearing is good enough to note the lack. Adjusting your grip off his ribs, you look up at him.

"Now we start walking." Your voice is urgent, and he nods at you jerkily. He takes the first step, then you and Annie take the next. As this pattern repeats and you hobble quickly towards the door, the soft feeling of the fabric of his coat on the back of your neck sparks a possessive storm. You try to eat those thoughts in turn, but they stubbornly get stuck.

As you mount the steps you can feel Angel's strength start to flag, but he only allows a small sag through his willpower. "Come on Angel you can make it." Annie says sharply as she hefts his arm. You are hmming very quietly in frustration at your stuck thoughts, and then, the three of you lurching forward, you get him in and through the door.

"Get him down on the floor!" Annie says, her voice staccato. He obliges her by turning slowly and letting the both of you guide him down to the floor. As you help him down you get a faint scent of several women under the blood, including the Warrior and Darla. Recently.

Turning away from that you look down at him as he lets out a pained breath and then coughs, and you can see blood flecking his lips. Though under it all he is smiling slightly, and his brown eyes are flicking between you both as you all pause, for a moment.

Then you look over at Annie.

"Get what we have, I'll make sure he doesn't bleed out." Your voice is downright professional and focused, though it is of course an imitation pulled from Latria's memories of her knight friend. Internally, you are trying to not decide on how to break his body so you can get at the Soul within. I still need him. Grip tightening on his coat, you look at the knife jutting out of his chest, as he slowly works to get his right hand out of his coat.

The knife is extremely close to his heart, you would judge, sitting just to the side of his sternum and buried in his left lung all the way to the hilt, blood bubbling up around it as he breathes. The cloth of his torn and ruined blue shirt is soaked a dark red by the blood. Said blood is also pooling beneath him onto his coat, which is by this point thoroughly ruined. He's gotten his right hand out of his coat and wrapped loosely around the base of the hilt now, pressing on the cloth around it.

Wrapping your own hands over his you press. You can hear his ribs all across his chest shift with very quiet crunches. Definitely already broken.

"Owwwww…!" Angel groans at your activities, wincing at you. You just look at him with a displeased expression. He quickly shuts up. The blood flow seems to slow, and you take the time to look the rest of him over. Under his collar you can see him black and red with bruising, and from the way his chest is moving as he breathes you can tell that his right side in particular is in bad shape. His false breathing is also shallow and sounds liquid filled.

But overall his expression is generally calm, if contorted with pain. Which makes sense really. You idly ponder.

Annie's rapid pitter pat footsteps hearld her arrival, carrying a small box into which she has seemingly jammed a variety of items.

"Ah good, he ain't in the grave yet." She comments bluntly. Clink-clank! goes her box as she kneels by his head, setting it to her right, and starts digging for scissors and some gauze. She looks at him as she finds her tools, the blades of the scissors glinting in the light as she holds them up.

"I really hope you didn't want to keep this shirt and coat." She says as she cuts his shirt open.

He looks up at her and snorts sardonically. "Wish I could… is a nice coat." He mutters as his head falls back down.

"Sucks to be you then!" Annie says brightly as she cuts around the knife to leave a bit of cloth to try and soak the blood. Angel looks up at her in utter shock. A hint of amusement at her bedside manner bubbles up into your brain, its tiny volume somehow pushing out everything else. The knife missed his coat so Annie is able to push that off easily with his help, along with the scraps of his shirt.

And his chest is a mess.

All of it is black and purple and red, with bumps and troughs in strange places, marking his many broken ribs. It looks like he was hit with… fists and kicks, you would guess. And from the darkest spots, they weren't big fists. A suspicion begins to form in your mind. There are other cuts, the biggest one is a finger long gash running horizontal below his sternum. The skin of his neck and face is even more pale than it should be, given his dead nature. The blood loss and pain would explain some of the weakness, and his facade the rest.

Annie pushes gauze forward and you all maneuver your hands so that the fabric is gathered around the base of the knife, and you are pressing on it. Annie leans over Angel and then waves her fingers in front of his eyes. He looks at her, annoyed slightly.

"How long ago was all this?" Her voice is no-nonsense and sharp. Angel sighs and then twitches in pain as that shifts his chest.

"An hour at most?" He says questioningly. You take that as your cue.

"Well why did you come to me? My skills are not capable of healing, and we don't have anything to replace the blood." You say, your foreign accent thickening, as you ever so slowly inch your fingers around the knife handle.
"Ah… crap." He says, blanching, "I… was bleeding too fast and you were close... was hoping you could… damn." His voice is now worried as pinkish blood dribbles out of of the corner of his mouth.

You can tell that most of the worry is forced. You have your fingers around the hilt now.

"Hmmm… I guess it is a good thing you are a strigoi then!" You say, jerking the knife out with a schlunk.

"What...AAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaghhhhhh!?" Angel yells, eyes scrunched in pain and body locking up as it jerks strangely under your hand.

"Hugh owww crap, bloody…" He mutters as he slumps back to the ground, body losing all strength. Then realization dawns and he jerks again, "Wait!". His expression is frantic as he looks at you, "I don't know how you came to that…!" He blurts, before you shut him up by laying a finger across his mouth.

"Really, Sir Angel, this charade is pointless. I know strigoi when I see them, and with no heartbeat, and my magic whispering in my ear, I definitely know." Your lilting voice is ever so lightly marked by your genuine amusement at the confusion in his eyes. Then you feel his muscles beginning to tense, and you move your hand from his lips to his cheek, patting it lightly as you smile. Disarming him.

"I'm not going to hunt you though." You say lightly as you straighten from leaning over him. When you look over you can see Annie staring at you both, with a corner of her mouth twitching. Then she shakes her head and gestures for the bloody knife. Gently you lay the large, serrated, meat knife into the pile of gauze in her hand and she wraps it up, setting it aside carefully. Ah, that will be useful for the Ritual of the Pit. Good of her to do that. Turning away from her as she puts the ramshackle first aid supplies you grab a bit of loose gauze and wipe your hands off, tossing it to the side when you are done.

Setting your hands regally in your lap, you lock eyes with Angel. It is a tense few minutes of silence filled with the sounds of Annie moving about as you stare at the vampire pretending to be a man. His bearing is prideful and almost offended, even on the ground and exposed. But, eventually, and as you expected, he relents and lets out a deep sigh.

"Did you know when you first met me in that alley?" Angel asks, voice slightly morose as his mask begins to come down. You can see a hint of the well of his depression now, though you had inferred its existence before.

You nod, hair ornaments clacking. "I did, and was rather curious about you." You say, noting from the silence that Annie is sitting quietly in the background, just listening. This adds another bubbly feeling to the amusement.

Angel looks at you, eyebrow quirked, hand coming to rest on his stab wound as his breathing strengthens and slows.

"Being a hunter like I have, you get to learn about the monsters of the world." You say, responding to his look. "And I looked at you and saw a man suffering under a weighty curse." You quirk your own eyebrow at him, tilting your head right as those words color the air.

His expression is bemused at your speech.

"A curse huh…?" He says, smirking, expression whimsical. "Yeah, that's about right." He continues as he, slowly, levers himself into a sitting position. "Ugh…" He grunts as he gets upright.

"Need a hand there?" And Annie is there in the picture again, holding her hand out. He looks up, running a hand through his hair, and then flinching at the gunk on it getting into his hair. He grabs her hand with the other, cleaner hand, and then she yanks him up abruptly.

"Woah!" He yelps as she jerks him up too quickly. He nearly falls over again and Annie reaches out to grab his shoulder but he shrugs her off in a quick retreat and stands on his own. Letting him go Annie turns to you, and you stand.

"So, Latria, this is the mysterious "Angel" you've told me about?" She asks, tone bland. You smile and nod.

"Indeed." Your voice is light, and your gaze flicking around the little triangle the three of you make.

Angel, now that his brain is running at the speeds you are used to seeing from him, looks at Annie.

"I don't think I've had the pleasure, Miss…?" His expression is wary and his posture closed. She smiles and sticks her hand out.

"I'm Annie, been a friend of Latria's for a while." Her tone is back to its usual bubbly stream, until she sees the blood on the back of his hand as he tentatively shakes her hand. Her expression closes off briefly, before she looks happy again. It is forced, however. You wonder at that.

"Annie huh, nice to meet you." He says, though you can tell he's a little bit put off balance by her. He drops the handshake and looks at you both. As he goes to cross his arms, he sees the red spots all over them and grimaces. You also catch a flickering glance at Annie from him.

"May I use your shower?" He asks, sounding a bit chagrined.

You chuckle very quietly. "Yes Angel, you may. Second floor, first door on the right. We'll be waiting." You say as you gesture up the stairs. He looks relieved as he turns and heads for the stairs, avoiding the rugs, and as he ascends out of sight his footsteps echo through the mansion. When he disappears your expression flattens out, though only partially.

You look at Annie. She frowns a little and rubs her hands together as she responds to the look.

"I hate the smell of blood. It's disgusting and makes my stomach curdle." She shudders as she says that. You hum a bit of your personal hymn in thought, and that brightens her expression a little. Where did she develop that distaste? You ponder as the sound of the shower starts up.

"I'm fine though." She says calmly as she goes to the table, where you follow and seat yourself at its head. She seems to ponder for a fraction of a second between left or right, before sitting at your right hand. You recline in your seat with a regal bearing, finally paying attention again to the burbling cauldron in your Soul.

The possessive feeling is currently at war with your amusement and the unnamable bubbly feeling which reminds you of Annie. And as you sit you can feel a sucking thing you want nothing to do with seeping in to taint everything. Flicking a hand, you speak.

"What do you think of him?" Your voice is quiet and imperious as you struggle to get rid of the war in your mind. You are staring at a point to Annie's right as she also lounges slightly in her chair. She gestures loosely, somewhat undecided.

"As you would know, he is quite old. It lingers in his body language. But the more relevant thing is what I Saw." She says in a low voice, and hums her version of your hymn, chin resting in her hand. Then she looks into the middle distance and speaks again. "He is ill-fitting. The Soul is there and gone and there again. Even if I cannot see it outright. And it lingers."

There is weight to that last word as she looks back at you. "I do not truly trust him yet, but he seems honorable and reliable." She shrugs very slightly. "I am wary of him, though I think we need him as an ally."

She pauses here, blowing out a breath, before continuing, still at a low volume. "Especially against the Master… which is another thing." She catches your gaze and you can see concern flickering in her eyes.

"The Master is part of his line. Having seen Angel, I am certain of it." Her voice is ironclad on this point. You feel your new emotions focus with interest on that fact, forcing the thing back, as you tap your fingers on the chair arms.

"How intriguing." You say, looking up at the second floor. Your mind flutters back to a vampire lieutenant you crushed beneath your heel. Marius.

He spoke of Darla and how she sired a "creature with the face of an angel".

The line from the Master to Angel is clear to you now. You should ask to be sure of this, but it is obvious at this point. Your fingers still. You smelt the Warrior and Darla on his body, beneath the blood. Your suspicion refines itself.

You look to Annie. "Do you know the name Darla?" You ask. Annie looks contemplative, before shaking her head. You take the chance to speak. "A lieutenant of the Master. I learned a bit about her from another lieutenant, now deceased, named Marius. I believe that she sired Angel." You lean close to her now and lower your voice to whisper. "Angel is covered in her scent and that of the Warrior, Buffy."

Annie's eyes widen at your statement, the gears turning behind her eyes. The sounds from the shower cease and you both look up. There are some quiet thumps and then the door closes. Angel's footsteps move across the upper balcony and he comes into view on the stairs as he runs his hands through his hair. From the way he is moving you know his injuries are paining him, though his bare chest already looks somewhat better, the bleeding having stopped.

"Come sit." You say to him as he reaches the bottom, pointing at a chair on your left. He walks over and seats himself carefully. With a sigh he looks at you both, curiosity on his face.

You answer that feeling. "We were discussing what might have brought you to our door… and why you really sought me out."

Angel's face falls a little at that last part, but he nods. Straightening in his chair he looks at you as he begins to speak.

"I found your home a few days ago while I hunted vampires. And because... Buffy asked me to 'look out for you' after the Rat King." He breathes in too deeply and winces, forcing him to stop for a moment. You wonder at that answer, knowing there's a little more too it, but you can surmise a basic idea from his past behavior.

"...and I came here now because I did think you could heal me." He shrugs a little, "But more importantly there is something you should know about. The Master has started making a move on the surface again, using elite vampires to attack Buffy, which I helped drive off. Darla, a lieutenant of his is also involved." Pained anger crosses his face as he says Darla's name.

You are also seeing a curious, deep, well hidden despair whenever he mentions Buffy.

"Buffy is okay and we haven't seen the elite vampires in a while." He says, a complicated morass of feelings lingering in his eyes but not spreading to the rest of his face. Hmmmm.

"Who attacked you?" You ask, judging that his wounds came after the elite warriors were driven off from what he has said.

He pauses, hesitating, that despair fighting closer to the surface. Your gaze sharpens, and more of the pieces are eaten by your suspicion as you make a leap to a possible conclusion.

"Buffy attacked you, didn't she?" You ask, your imitated tone calm and interested as you voice that suspicion. If it was other vampires, or Darla, you would have expected a much faster answer.

He grimaces and lets out a long breath. "... Yeah." He sounds defeated. Annie radiates surprise from beside you and you let her take the leap she so obviously wants.

"How did that happen, besides the possible obvious answers?" She asks, somewhat incredulous. And she's right to be surprised, you think. The Warrior's band has quite strong ties between its members, and Angel was close enough to them to be connected to that web of ties.

Angel growls quietly, which elicits a desire of your own to growl in response and to attack him, but then it is gone and he is speaking.

"Darla framed me for feeding on Willow. Buffy, saw me, when… you know, the face thing." He grumbles out. Your hostile feeling fades as he crosses his arms and glares at the table top. That leaves the table in silence as everyone sitting around it ponders the mess.

For you it screams opportunity to attack the Master and work around the Warrior. By wooing Angel to your side more firmly you could weaken some of the tools she has on hand to defeat you if it comes to battle. A sharp spike appears in your mind at that thought. It is not time to fight her, not yet. You know that with a pure conviction. But that time will come.

Your slight smile is well hidden, and utterly sinister.

You can tell Annie's thoughts are partly mirroring yours. Though, like you, her expression is well hidden. You will have to tell her more of the Warrior and what you know soon. But for now you turn to look at the vampire sitting at the table.

"I think for now you should stay here for tonight and recover. You came here expecting healing and while I can't offer that, I can offer a roof and other forms of assistance." You lock eyes with him.

"To that end I have an offer for you Angel." Your false tone is leading and somewhat mysterious. He tilts his head.

"Oh?" He says, ceding the field to you.

"Given that you have come to my doorstep with your problems, I think a fair trade would be working with me to deal with them, to give me all you know on The Master and his forces, and to help me deal with some of mine." Your voice is calm, and you know he would know what you said is just an excuse to help him, though not the true reasons for using said excuse.

His face flows through surprise, chagrin, consideration and some regret, before it loops back to a pondering look. Then he nods slightly, coming to a decision. "Can I think about it Latria?" He asks quietly, looking at the both of you.

You nod. "You may." Acquiescing is easy for this. "Me and Annie will be on the third floor in my sanctum." You say as you both rise. You look at him sharply. "Do not attempt to enter that room at any time without me, or the wards will burn you to your bones." His eyebrows shoot up at your explanation.

"Thanks for the warning. Goodnight." He says cordially. You turn and drift up the stairs to your sanctum with Annie in tow.

The cool floors of your workshop calm the rumbling in your mind. The soft leather and the thick cushions of your chair make your thoughts pause and then take on paths slightly tangential to what they were before, and at a slower pace.

And Annie seats herself beside you, half kneeling as she looks at you. With a twitch of one hand you seal the Fog Gate and settle. You don't quite shuck the seeming, not yet, but you begin to think.

And then as you look back at the interaction you just had from start to finish, you burst out in demonic glee. "Haahahahahahahaahahahahahahah!" Your full throated laughter feels very right in this instance. Annie is looking at you but you wave her off, and just laugh and laugh and laugh.

I can still lie. That thought, the seed of your realization, sends you into another spurt of mirth. It bounces off the walls and echoes through the room, not passing beyond the Fog Gate. And those echoes are full of the sounds of bronze gears clashing and Souls singing. You can't even stop quickly, because the echoes send you into further celebrations as you hear them.

Eventually, you laugh so much that you almost fall out of the chair and the brief second where you have to pull back gives you a chance to slow down. And, very slowly, you do. When the last laugh leaves, you take stock of your current position.

The seeming is gone, and you are in your chair with Annie standing beside you. Her expression is wondering, and very confused. Under all of this is your satisfaction that, no, you are not completely without purpose any more. You can still effectively apply yourself to deception and so all your work still carries a purpose for you.

Sighing, you recline back and lounge in your chair, your arms folded in your lap, sitting on the arm and supporting your chin. "What pleases you so much, my Lady?" Annie says as her face flickers through subtle shifts of burning curiosity. You smile, your feelings forcing your lips to quirk upward.

"There was more to me than I thought." You say, cryptically. "Not everything has been consumed or lost." You look at your domain, and you plot. And your thoughts lead you to so many possibilities. But there is someone here who you need.

"Annie, what do you wish to do?" You ask, your tone contemplative.

"Protect and serve you, my Lady." She says, and the burning loyalty in that statement is an anchor. You wave a hand and then speak, as your plotting reaches a conclusion you realize it has been aiming towards for a long time.

"I think we can both agree that I am mad, when I was not. But an old quote from my homeland comes to me now." You look at her and say to her, "Only the mad and the sad rule." It is not a goal or a task.

It is a desire. A want. Something new, but an anchor nonetheless.

You look at Annie where she stands beside you and slowly the burst of emotion leaves you. The conclusions you reached during that brief moment, however, remain strong in your mind. You stand slowly. You turn to Annie and look at her state of readiness. Drifting close you lean in, your mantle obscuring you both from the rest of the room.

"Get some rest Annie, and carry a stake on you." You murmur in her ear. She nods, a smile drifting across her face.

"I was already planning to." She says, and then turns away, passing through the Fog Gate unhindered.

And that leaves you with what you shall do on the morrow.

Angel will have a plan of his own on how he wants to deal with his issues. A man like him would. And given he's in the middle of those problems, and he is intelligent, it is likely to be a good plan. If your read on the situation is correct, it is also likely to get Darla reduced to dust. The question is that, sometimes, it is good to take the counsel of another viewpoint, like yours. And it may involve the Warrior in some way since he is stuck in the mire of intense emotions.

Which you can handle, but it means you have to approach him and the Warrior differently and expend more effort.

The other option is to listen to his ideas, take his counsel, and then suggest your own plan. And you would likely start with the source, Willow. The girl was enamored with you, and through her you can lever her friends to your viewpoint. Namely, leverage them to kill Darla, and isolate them from the Warrior. Make them orbit you, instead of her.

And then there is how Annie will fit into this mix. You smile again as you imagine her interacting with them. The perfect screen in some ways. Your gaze then lands on the Glove. And more, in time.

The Idol has been revitalized and devised a Plan. What version do you choose?

[] Follow Angel's plan and come at his problems with subtlety.

[] Listen to Angel's plan and counsel, then convince him of your own method.

---

Here is a gift for you, and you and you and you and you and you and you over there, up there and down there in the corner.

Gifts for everyone!

Vote lock Saturday, Sep 22th 6:00 pm UTC.