Fool's Adventures: The Reboot, A Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Demon's Souls Quest

[BungieONI]

Arc 1: Arrival​

Screams fill the sewer tunnel as three captives are dragged through the dimly lit darkness in the firm hands of six shadowy figures.

Annie pulls frantically on her arms, trapped in the hard grip of two terrifying goons and watches her friends struggle behind her. Mary's blonde hair sticks out under the illumination of the weak red maintenance lights in little wire cages set into the walls as she kicks and screams. Jamie is still and silent at the end of the line, her brown hair and blue blouse swallowed up by the shadows. Annie's heart pounds as she twists and jerks and tries to get free, to get away from these monsters, her red hair flying around her as she pulls and twists. Thick unnatural shadows crowd close and poke at Annie's eyes and face. Shivers skitter up and down her spine as the half visible things with sharp little claws chitter.

"Let me go you stupid fucks!" She screams at the goons as she kicks one goon's shins, and the things squeal and giggle. "Jamie! Say something please!" She hollers to her friend where she can barely see her hanging limply from her own captor's hands.

One of the the goons holding her laughs at her, sharp teeth glinting in the weak light. He kicks her in the ribs as he hauls on her arm. She coughs and wriggles weakly as she tries to curl around the stabbing pain. She could almost hear her ribs grinding together as she grimaces, her face twisting to match the snarling anger forcing her heart to beat faster and wordless hate to curdle in her guts.

And her thin coat and jeans aren't enough to protect her from the road rash and stabbing pains accumulating on her back and thighs as she bounces over the rough stone and is dragged deeper into the tunnels. She was supposed to be in the Sunnydale Women's Shelter right now, sleeping peacefully in a room! Instead she and her friends got grabbed by these six freaks after walking down a usually harmless alley! They'd come out of the shadows and hit her over the head and manhandled her into a nearby manhole. Where the fuck are these monsters taking us? Anger and fear fill her as she kicks at the sewer stones with her ratty sneakers and tries to get out.

They are way too strong to be normal people and their faces are messed up. Thick ridges stick out from underneath their foreheads, long fangs almost seeming to drip with dark fluid in the shadows of the tunnel. She knew what these are, anyone who'd fallen through the cracks and had to sleep on the streets for long enough in Sunnydale did.

Vampires.

Whimpers from Jamie broke her train of thought and then Mary's screams redoubled in volume as one of the other goons did something painful sounding. Her heart sinks further into her stomach. A despairing little thought points out that she'd probably become a story for all the others. 'Ah yeah, Annie and Jamie and Mary disappeared last week. The suckers got her. Don't go near Heapstead Alley or they'll getcha too.' She starts to whimper and it bubbles up and up and then out of her mouth as a horrible wail until something heavy smacks her on the head hard enough to make her see stars. One of the goons dragging her growls at her.

"Will you just shut it you little bint?" He tells her and she pulls even harder as her struggles intensify. "And Alex, will make your bint shut up too!" He continues. Growls surround her and then she was thrown to the ground, her cheek scraping on the dirty stone and the stink assaulting her nose. Hands trap her arms behind her back and something that felt like a rough cord is wrapped around her wrists and ankles while she was stunned. A chunk of cloth was wrapped around her mouth as a gag, muffling her screams to angry growls. The cord cut into her wrists as she is hauled upright and hands wrap around her wiggling legs.

"God this fucking chick has lungs on her. Pete, we almost there?" The other goon asked petulantly as he hauled her around and wrapped his other hand over her mouth. Some of his fingers jammed up under her chin and forced her mouth closed around the gag as the rest of his meaty, clammy hand covered her mouth. She can barely move with how tight they were holding her. She is suspended and nearly helpless between them. Cold wraps itself around her chest and her shivers won't stop.

"Yeah yeah, we're almost there Paul." The goon holding her legs, 'Pete' apparently, said to the monster holding her mouth. Annie could hear Alex and the other three unnamed goons doing something similar to her friends and Mary's screams cut off to muffled shrieks.

"Finally, these bitches are heavy." Another goon complained from the end of this horrible train.

"Shut up Scott!" Pete and Paul chorused back along the line.

All of the goons except one, Scott presumably, cackle like demons and start moving again. Like Pete said the trip didn't last much longer at all and soon the tunnel brightens up ahead. Twisting her head till her neck aches Annie spots a collapsed section of tunnel wall surrounded by flickering candles dotting the floor. Wavering light glows from within the hole and the two freaks carried her to the cleft and then down the stairs which descend from the hole into a room.

Looking around as they descended Annie searches the room for any kind of means to escape. The room is circular and crowded with figures gathered in a circle on a lower section which the stairway spilled into. She is forced to ignore their beastly eyes fixing her with piercing glares when her eyes land on the monster wearing the ill fitting meat-suit of a man standing on a raised section of floor to her left, overlooking the hideous congregation like a preacher. His corpse-like face was a perpetual snarl with his nose twisted like a bat's and his teeth like daggers and his eyes look at her with a peaceful, almost nostalgic amusement. Something awful writhes under his skin, pushing at it from within. Something that wasn't quite there but that she could see with her gifts. She really, really wishes she couldn't right now as nausea rose in her stomach.

At his feet there sat a pool of actual honest to God blood, the sight surprising her thoughts into a blank what the fuck and making her nausea intensify. His backdrop is the ruined and half collapsed arches of a set of church windows somehow transplanted to this cavern beneath the earth. A diffuse golden light from cracks in the ceiling shines down upon him and mixes with the light of candelabra strewn about the room to make his exposed skin seem like pulsing maggot flesh.

His hands are crossed at his waist, one hand grabbing the other wrist and his other hand holding a small book wrapped in a dark glistening cover embossed with brass filigree and knotwork. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Annie screams in fright and anger against her captor's hand and the gag and lashes out against her bonds wildly, the cords biting and sawing into her flesh as her muscles strain, pulling and twisting until it felt like her shoulders would pull themselves out of their sockets. But she is stuck and the monsters all around her look on in amusement and rising hunger as her blood leaks out. She could feel their hunger tearing at her eyes like the shadows of the tunnel and chittering in little masses around their legs, its malevolent red eyes laughing at her. More terrible things linger in their shadows and writhe like dying vermin over their shoes.

She squeezes her eyes shut and grits her teeth, forcing the visions away from her. A croaking laugh fills the room and her eyes are forcibly peeled back open by the sound as it reaches into her brain and forces her to turn her head to look at the Thing which seems to be these vampires leader. He lets go of his wrist and languidly raised a hand tipped with yellowed nails like talons, the crowd parting and forming a path to the center of the circle for her captors.

"All of you. Bring them to the circle. Darla, my dear, do get ready." The monster says in a smooth and charming voice, the last directed at a blonde vampire woman in a school girl get up across the circle from her and her captors. His voice sinks into her ears and stays there, twisting and turning over and over like a drill and pressing into her skull. But it can't enthrall her entirely, the visions and the Sight she was gifted with chewing in the corners of her eyes and sneaking into her ears like spiders.

A full body shudder claims her body and then she is tossed into the center of the circle of candles and… fucking bones. All around her are leg bones and arm bones and fingers and toes and ribs. She hears two more thumps on either side of her as her friends are also thrown in and in the corner of her eye can see Jamie and her wildly rolling eyes. Her round face is ashen pale and her mouth is moving as she whispers. "Please, please, please… don't please." Her friend moans and twitches, trying to wriggle away from the crowd and closer to Annie. Weakly twisting to look up Annie spots a full skull grinning at her morbidly and to one side of it is a pair of shiny leather school girl shoes attached to dainty feet in black stockings. Dragging her eyes up the woman's legs she passes over a plaid skirt and black school jacket and meets the horrifically twisted face of 'Darla' peering down at her from her mane of blonde curls. In one of the vampiress's hands is a dagger carved from bone and it steals her attention entirely.

That knife is awful. Like the claw of something screaming for spilled entrails and meat right into her ears. She could feel bile churning in her stomach and searing the back of her tongue. Some instinct forced her to roll onto her side and to turn away from the pulsing claw she could still feel. Panting frantically she forces down her gorge and the fear buried in her throat and swallows. Her captors move at some sign she doesn't see from the leader and her gag is ripped out. Her breaths come in harsh pants and her friends are whimpering quietly.

Some insane impulse makes her draw herself up and look at the leader, who she now has a clear view to as the crowd has shuffled around to leave a clear space between his dias and the circle. She swallows and spits a glob of bile into the dirt and then she asks a question.

"So, how mad would you be if I came back and haunted your ass batface?" She shoots at him. She hears a strained chuckle from Mary and feels a thump against her back as the other woman flops into her clumsily.

He snorts and chuckles. "Oh we won't kill you Miss Jackson." He tells her and then smiles viciously at the shock she can feel on her face. How did he know my name? Are his goons in the shelter? Oh god… She shudders as she panics a little at the thought that he knew about her visions. What will they do to the other women there... What will they do to us? Her thoughts churn wildly and her jaw twitches with pain as she grinds her teeth.

"Though you will wish for it after we're done making you a suitable vessel. Whatever's left anyway." Then his expression twists into a sad, mocking frown. "Unfortunately your friends will not fare so well." He says cheerily and then raises his book, opening it to a page he'd clearly memorized somewhere in the middle.

"My children, we will now begin the summoning. Please repeat after me." He says with a tone like a patient schoolmaster and all of the monsters stand straighter and fix their gazes upon her. Summoning? Making me a vessel? My friends…? Annie paled as his words registered and then she started to scream and thrash, splattering her blood about the circle as she put together what he meant. He's going to shove some fucking pet monster into me!? And…! No! NO NO NO!

"Fuck you! Fuck you! I swear to God I'm going to make sure your fucking pet eats you all! I won't let you kill them!" Was all she managed to get out before the chanting started and burning exploded inside her eyes along with a burst of horrific pain which forces screams of agony out of her spasming body. Two other horrific screams drill into her ears as she rolls onto her back and out of the corner of her eye sees her friends twitching and writhing on the floor.

"In the Land of Blood-Splattered Fog
Shattered by God's Awakening
There rises a spine of the world
Which holds up one of the Five Pillars
To open the Gate of Suffering."

"Annie! Oh God help please!" Mary shouts to her as she starts to float into the air, ripped upward by some unseen force. Annie's heart lurches into her throat as she watches Darla walk into the circle and hold the knife above her friend. Then spears of iridescent and oily light stab up from within Annie's eyes and her cries begin to echo like her throat was made of crystal. Or porcelain. A distant howling reaches the ears of all those present and shivers skitter their way up the spines of those attending this unholy night's gathering.

Through the glow Annie can just make out her friend writhing in the grip of whatever magic was holding her aloft as Darla places a hand gently on her forehead. No! Annie tries to stand, to wriggle, to crawl closer, but she can't with her hands and feet bound.

"That which lies awake and tormented
Beneath the Nexus of Worlds
Your most dreadful might
The Fog which is your Soul
Now shaping your body
As the great Worm."

The knife comes down, somehow clear in her nearly blind vision and Mary's throat parts like wet paper around its edge. Her screams cut off in a choked gurgle and her head hangs limp as her blood shoots out of the hole she shouldn't have. Annie whimpers, her rage guttering out as she feels her stomach knot with horror and tears burn at the corner of her eyes. The light in her eyes dims as the burning somehow intensifies.

"Mary!" She cries out, then flinches when Mary's body jerks and her splurting blood gathers together in a twisting crimson snake that heads for the ceiling. Her eyes follow it up.

Something emerges from the ceiling, an enormous white cloud of immaterial grasping hands twisting themselves into patterns of spinning wheels that glisten like a thick pool of ichor as they reach down towards the cavern floor. Her friend's blood rises up to meet it and evaporates into white oily Fog as it gets close. The cloud grows and the cloud glows brightly with magic as the howling becomes a piercing shriek which nearly drowns out the chanting of the vampires and her and Jamie's screams.

Jamie twists away from it and the movement catches Annie's eyes and she looks at the blurry shape of her friend. Her friend lurches closer, her screams now hoarse moans which then go quiet. Over her own hoarse screams Annie hears Jamie speak and the steady crunch crunch of Darla's shoes.

"Not your fault." Jamie's soft and somehow still melodious voice whispers to her before she is jerked into the air with the next verse.

"We call to your child
The White Doll
She who whispers sweet redemption
She who weaves the dreams of fools
She who lays her kingdom low in perpetuity."

The cloud wheels violently as Annie sees Darla bring down the knife again and the horrible thing seems to pulse in pleasure. Annie's eyes follow the blood again. Her thoughts are a black pit which bubbles with the desire to murder these monsters as she follows the trail of her friends life and watches it be devoured. But most especially Darla and the thing standing as their leader.

A form jitters and jerks into being inside the cloud hovering above Annie, the hands spinning amongst themselves and dissolving until the tall silhouette of a four armed woman shapes itself out of the Fog and the glow intensifies. The magic jerks Annie into the air as her bonds are shredded. She thrashes against the magic all around her, invisible chains wrapping themselves around her body. The nearly incoherent woman floats upwards towards the silhouette as it thrashes in its own invisible chains and its own screeches rise to a deafening volume as they mix and merge with Annie's.

"Come forth you great Fool's Idol, you who were once a Queen!
By right and by sacrifice we call you!
By might and by blood we call you!
By night and for doom upon men we call you!
Take this vessel offered up to you!"

The ichor condenses into a putrid stream of Fog as thick around as Annie's wrist when the last words are shouted from the leader's lips and then it surges downwards to cover the woman. It wraps her floating body in a cocoon of undulating, writhing, gas which shines with a virulent inner light that cast worm like shadows onto the gathered monsters and the cavern walls. Then the magic twists and rushes into her mouth and eyes.

The magic in the room rushes into her hanging body and her screams redouble in volume, now an inhuman raucous shriek of grinding ceramic and metal. Darla steps up to her now with her knife held high and a hideous grin on her face as she swings it down. Stabbing it into the woman's chest, the homeless woman's screaming stops abruptly and her eyes roll up into her head as the magic freezes, locking in place as it threads throughout the woman's body. Limply her limbs flopped towards the ground as her body hung, almost pinned in the air. The knife twists, slowly spinning in the vampire's grip before she rips it free with a grunt. The woman's body twitches and then her eyes roll back down into their proper place. Grey, almost blind irises stare out from her face, replacing the watchful green irises of Annie.

The Idol blinks and then her body breathes without her direction. Her nose is filled with the thick offensive stench of offal and old blood to her left and the senses tied to her Soul taste the rotten energies all around her.

With a snap her... head, but the wrong shape and the wrong hair, a red curtain out of the corner of her eye, flips around to lock Darla with a glare. She hisses and an arm blurs forward to latch onto Darla's throat. Shouts of surprise burst from the crowd around them as they lurch away from the pair. The vampiress flinches in surprise and then chokes as an iron hard and ice cold grip crushes her windpipe. The Idol's displeasure rises as she feels the squishy muscles clench in her forearm as she bears down on this thing's throat. She's been crammed into some human meat sack! Again! She hisses again, a sound like a venting steam pipe filling the cavern as she seethes and recalls the last time this happened.

Darla scrambles at the hand as the Idol rights herself. The Demon possessing Annie's body surges forward in the air and pushes Darla back, magic building up beneath the hand wrapped around Darla's throat in an ominous white glow.

The vampiress slashes at the Idol and the demon jerks out of the way, almost clumsily being forced to let go of her throat, and points her hand at Darla as a nimbus of pearlescent light and Fog surrounds it.

"Enough." The leader's voice rings out, shimmering with power to her esoteric senses. A title slides into place inside the floating woman's skull, from outside her own mind. The Master. The Idol goes rigid and turns slowly in the air to fix him with an imperious glare, hand slowly sinking to her waist and the glow of her magic guttering out reluctantly.

"Y…" She starts hoarsely and then coughs. She tries again. "Yes?" She says, her voice almost bell like once she figures out how to speak properly. A quiet mutter in her head prods at her ears, distant and foreign anger winding around her own displeasure. The host? Odd that they are still here...

The Master is surrounded by a nimbus of wriggling red power like clotted blood that moves as if it was worms and something else on the edge of her vision. He smiles at her like she was a perfectly made painting and shuts the book with a thump.

"Wonderful. There is such power within you." He says genially, tone thick with flattery. It bounces right off of the sharp offended anger of the Idol and her brow starts to furrow against her will before she forces the meat surrounding her to behave. All around her she could feel a rotten bloody power from the congregation.

A quiet voice in her ears hisses in pain. Fucking ow you bitch, I'm gonna tear that asshole a new fucking facehole when I… wait. What? What!? Why can't I move my body!? The quiet voice's objections turn into gasps and moans as the Idol's new eyes pass over the two corpses at her feet.

Her own inhuman voice that trills and rings like struck crystal bells answers the voice, an underlying crunch of ceramic adding an unusual accent. Be silent human, you are not needed here. The Idol tells Annie.

Annie falls silent in surprise, speechless. The Idol shows no outward sign of her moment of distraction. She floats closer to the Master and tilts her head to the left, staring at him with a dangerous glint in her grey eyes. He smiles back at her.

"Good, good. Kneel." He orders her and weight crashes down onto her shoulders. It presses her head down towards the ground and she frowns in irritation. It intensifies enormously when she doesn't submit immediately to this haughty creature and she is forced to land. And then what feels like an army of hands and chains forces her legs to buckle. Like an aching oak her knees start to bend and betray her as she tries to hold up an absolutely enormous mass of magical energy on her straight back.

He speaks again, voice unchanged. "Kneel."

Weight like she's trying to hold up the entire Tower she once lived in crashes down on her head and shoulders and her legs collapse. Hissing in displeasure like a boiling tea kettle she kneels before this false master. She only served the Old Monk and her God. No one else! But this feeble human meat sack wouldn't obey her like her proper, perfect porcelain vessel did in the past.

Her knees dig into the hard dirt and stone and she silently fumes, meeting the Master's gaze with her head unbowed as she waits for whatever it is he wants. The human lingering inside this body's head is screaming profanity at the Master in her ears while utterly swamped in murderous rage. The thudding heart hidden behind her new ribs rattles the Idol's new bones and nearly drowns out the Master's voice in her ears.

"Good! My first order to you my demon, is to bring to me the Slayer. Alive." He commands her. Then he makes a flick of his wrist and one of the vampires, blonde and skinny, steps into her personal space to deposit a picture in front of her. Then he skitters away in suppressed fear and is forgotten. An image of a blonde girl with a carefree smile, a teenager not even a woman yet, rests in the dirt. It was taken somewhere in a dark room full of other people and tables, a club, everyone holding strange drinks or food, club snacks. A swirl of bright color in the upper left spells out the symbols -ze. The end of a sign. Letters in English.

The Idol is not sure how she knows what all of this is, but it is filtering from somewhere else than what told her the title of her master. The human presence sharing her skull and filling it with a stream of profanity snorted. Probably me.

The Idol reaches out and picks up the picture. She considers the girl, pensive thoughts bubbling up under her offense and irritation and the feelings the former owner of this body still feels. Somehow.

She opens her mouth and asks. "What is her name?" The congregation twitches and the movement catches her eye. Something unexpected swirls in the air around them. Gossamer tendrils of fear with dozens of twitching eyes and wriggling centipede legs writhing in a net between their ears, connecting them. Images spiral in those threads and the entire mass thrummed to her Soul. Hmm. She is momentarily distracted from her displeasure at the sight. She blinks and understanding of a sort tickles at the two minds inside her body's skull.

You can See like I can? Her host's voice was disturbed, curious and wary in a roiling mix in her ears. The Idol ignored the commentary and with a twist inside herself, banished the visions. That was not how she saw things normally, and why was her host so strong? Then the Master responds to her query, interrupting her thoughts.

"Her name is Buffy Summers. You can travel where we cannot and perhaps may find her while hunting her during the day. I care not. Bring her to me." He says with a wave of his hand.

Annie makes no comment as the Idol feels the weight disappear from her body and she eyes the Master. She speaks. "It will be done." She does not specify when nor does she particularly intend to do it quickly. His loss for not being more specific. She may need to obey because of what he's done, but she'll do it how she wishes.

She turns and with a snap of her body's coat floats up and forward. The crowd parts around her, some of them trying to put on brave faces. But she has had far, far more practice at divining feelings from human expression than they did at hiding them. Fear was written all over them, in little hints and tiny twitches.

It soothes some of her displeasure as she floats up into the tunnel and then right, remembering the path this body took after she was abducted. The smell of the tunnel hits her and she tries to float higher, glancing at her rugged and worn shoes in irritation. Tennis shoes. The human in her head seethes in silence as they float down the winding tunnels.

It doesn't take very long at all to find a ladder and access tunnel up which tingles with familiarity. But she can't float up the entire length of the tunnel. Too weak. Much too weak, even with what the Master gave her. She reaches out and slowly hauls herself up to the closed cover using the ladder. The cover won't budge with one hand and she's struck by her sudden lack of two other arms. If she had the four she was supposed to have she could lever this open with three while holding on with the last one!

She feels her passenger blinks in surprise, confusion winding through her rage. The host must have caught some of her thoughts.

With some struggling she manages to wedge the feet of this body into the rungs and brace her back against the cover and then lift it. With a huff of effort she shoves it to the side and the dim light of the moon and starlight shines down on her as she climbs up. She's in… Heapstead Alley from what her trickle of knowledge says. A little street between two blocks of stores. Grocers and clothing stores.

Now that she's away from them she can feel her… host, struggling to move the body and utterly failing. She floats out of the alley and turns left, stopping in front of a glass storefront. Through the window she can see flickering, tv screens, and other devices. She looks at herself under the light of a, streetlight, and she sees a thin face, pale and frowning with greyish eyes and red hair.

She's frowning? She tries to stop, and reaches up to touch her face. Her hand is small with smooth and well cared for nails, her slim wrist wrapped in a leather coat sleeve. Her face is impassive. She isn't frowning and her expression hasn't been moving at all.

But her reflection's face is. Its eyes bore into hers and become green. What? The woman in the glass snarls at her and leans closer. "Let. Me. Go!" Her host shouts, the sound ringing in her mind and from the glass. The Idol flinches and hisses. She doesn't get to be free. That's ridiculous! Her thoughts turn back to her weakness and how her host doesn't need this body anymore!

With a mental lunge she pounces on the Soul connected to her own, burning brightly in her mind, her own Soul a whirl of fangs and hunger. Her reflection shouts. "No!" And then her reflection's arm flies forwards, seeming to strike something out of sight in the reflected world. Pain! The Idol yelps and her hand rushes to hold the body's nose as her hungry Soul is thrown back, punched in the toothy face. A pounding throb crushes her eyes in its grip and she slumps down onto the sidewalk with her head in both hands. Her host's abnormally strong Soul is still slamming into her own weakened one and she retreats to one side of her mind. What? This anomaly clicks into place with the unusual visions she'd had in the cavern. Her host was some kind of medium? She could resist the ritual? This isn't supposed to happen!

A hissing voice digs into her ears again, interrupting her thoughts. "Look here you monster, I am not going to be eaten. Fuuuuuck you if you think you can. I'll just punch you again!" Another slamming blow makes the headache intensify.

The Idol snarls and her Soul tries to claw at the furious human lingering in her head. This is her body now. Hers! A spike of agony shatters in her left eye as her host punches her in the face of her Soul again. Outside of her mind she groans and slumps over, her head almost touching the sidewalk. Her host snorts.

"Not that tough are you? Now let's see…" She says, and then she feels the host fumbling for control of the body and then her grasp sliding off the Soul of the Idol. The body is buried deep inside the Idol's own Soul, out of reach.

"FUCK!" The shout hurts the Idol's ears.

The Idol speaks in a pained grumble. "You can't. The Binding's nature won't allow it." Slowly she levers herself upright, leaning on the reflective glass front. She matches glares with her reflection, her host. Her host looks extremely skeptical.

"Oh? Can't you move out of the way then?" Her host says threateningly.

The Idol shakes her head. "No. I have been Bound before and the body is now a part of both of us." And she's speaking the truth. The Book and the Binding it describes are essentially absolute on that fact.

Her host's eyes narrow as the Idol knows her host can feel her sincerity from where her Soul is gripping the Idol's. "You're telling the truth." The human in the glass shudders, her Soul retreating. "Dammit!" She grumbles and closes her eyes. The Idol can feel her thoughts seething, reaching out to the alley and down into the dark. Back to the vampires they just left behind.

"Dammit… fuck! I left them there!" She snarls at herself, ignoring the Idol. The Idol doesn't take the chance to try and eat her Soul. She knows she needs more than that to trap and consume her host after what she just did. The throbbing headache makes her breaths hitch and shudder. It will pass.

The Idol ignores her host's muttering and takes a different tack. "Darla needs to die." She says quietly. Her host stops muttering and looks over at her sharply.

The Idol continues. "And the Master."

Her host leans closer. "Really? No love for your fellow monster?" She asks the Idol suspiciously.

The Idol smiles. "I. Will never. Be a slave to such a creature." Her vehemence makes her voice come out like grinding ceramic and struck crystal and her host leans back in surprise. Her host's expression becomes thoughtful. Then her reflection leans even closer, her physical nose and her reflection's almost touching as her host looks at her intently.

"And Peter and Paul and Alex and Scott and whoever those two other goons were. They all need to die!" She tells the Idol.

The Idol nods. "Very much so."

Her host leans back and hums, tapping one finger on her chin before turning around and seeming to pace in the glass. "Alright, alright… you know what let's make a deal, Demon." She says as she snaps around and points at the Idol. The Idol stands straighter and walks to stand in front of her reflection.

"What is your deal, human?" The Idol asks imperiously.

"Vengeance. You help me kill The Master, Darla, and those six goons and I'll help you do it. You'll be stronger if you don't have to fight with me, no?" She says with a confident tilt of her head.

The Idol nods. Her eyes narrow. "What else?" She asks suspiciously.

"Simple; You don't hurt the homeless, don't feed on innocents and don't attempt to murder me…" Her host rattles off a list of conditions and then stops as the Idol holds up her hand.

"No. I must feed to…!" She starts to tell her host, and then blinding choking agony fills her head as her host starts screaming at her and tearing at the Idol's Soul with her own. Wrapping around it and squeezing. The Idol stumbles forward and smacks into the glass storefront hard enough it shatters and cuts into her forehead.

The smell of blood hits her nose and then red pours over her vision but she can't focus on that as she reels back from the storefront. An alarm starts blaring from within, but its drowned out by the sheer volume of her host shouting at her in a voice that rings across the entire block.

"You will not hurt the innocent. You will not hurt the homeless. You will not hurt me. I will kill us both before I let you! Are we clear!?" She screams at her.

The Idol hesitates.

"Are we clear!?" She shouts again.

The Idol hisses, then rallies as she glares at the glass shards all around her feet and the fragmented image of her reflected host. Hundreds of eyes glare back from the shards. "We must get the Book and the Knife if you want to be free of me. Help me get them and I will… acquiesce to your conditions, human." She growls at her reflection.

Her host glares right back. After a very long moment where they stand off she nods and speaks. "Fine. Are we agreed then? You will help me kill the Master, Darla, and those six vampires that kidnapped me and my friends. I will help you do it too. And you will not hurt the innocent or the homeless or myself, and I will help you get the Book and the Knife so we can be free of the 'Binding'."

The Idol considers for another moment then nods. "We are in agreement."

Her host doesn't relax, precisely, but a part of the tension in her image in the glass and in her Soul disappears. She looks over at the alarm. "We should get out of here and find something to cover that cut before the police show up." More information filters from the host into the Idol as the host speaks. Police, constabulary, guards.

Ah.

The Idol starts trotting away down the street and past other storefronts, her Soul too wobbly and pained to fly right now. She shakes her head as she holds a palm to her cut. "That will not be necessary. My Demonic nature means this vessel will regenerate in a few moments." She tells her host.

Huh. Useful.

The Idol hurries away and her thoughts turn to what this body is wearing. Rough jeans and a t-shirt, leather jacket and ratty shoes. She needs better shoes or she's just going to go barefoot because these are not suitable even slightly for a hunt.

She could go to someone's home and kill… dammit no. Her host won't let her do that. She looks around, she could steal from one of these stores. Her host didn't seem to care much about that. She rummages around in her coat pockets. She could also maybe buy a pair with what's left, but she'll need to eat…

She'll just steal some new shoes from a store and then where will she go…

---

[] To the club that ends with -ze tonight. Her host recognizes the sign and interior as part of the Bronze. The Slayer is young, perhaps she is there. It also seems like a place vampires would like and there might be some there to help.

[] To the school to scope it out in daylight tomorrow, after looking it over tonight. Maybe see if the Slayer has any friends that she needs to be separated from and how well liked she is. How much she might be missed.

[] To one of the malls and shopping centers her host knows about where she might ask around tomorrow. She might be able to sell a believable story while searching for the Slayer, but really this presents a better way to scope out the town and its goings on.

Thank you to the immensely helpful @Mother Nyx and @picklepikkl for editing and beta-ing.

 

[BungieONI]

Spoiler: Winning Vote

[X] To one of the malls and shopping centers her host knows about where she might ask around tomorrow. She might be able to sell a believable story while searching for the Slayer, but really this presents a better way to scope out the town and its goings on.

Her host sighs in the back of her head as the Idol stares at a small clothing store, examining it from the shadows of an alley. She's been looking at the store front for at least ten minutes now. The 3 AM air nips at her fingers where they're shoved into her denim jacket's pockets.

What's the hold up? Her host asks her impatiently. You asked me all those questions so what are you doing?

"I'm thinking." She responds bluntly.

Her host gives another huff. Night ain't getting any younger, and its freaking cold out here.

The Idol rolls a shoulder and gently touches her forehead. The wound is closed over now and only the slight ridge of a fading scar the size of her pinkie nail remains. It will disappear before the sun rises in a few hours. She prods her host, directing her attention inward. Human, how long would it take the local constabulary to arrive?

Her host grumbles. I don't know, just like I don't know what kind of security or alarms they have just from looking at it. Maybe five, ten minutes? This is a pretty nice neighborhood tucked out of the way.

Five minutes I can work with. The Idol tells her host. She retreats into the alley, pulling up the hood of her jacket and walks around the corner into a service road behind a row of stores. Walking down the road she makes another turn and crosses the street at a dead silent intersection then turns down the service road behind the row of stores where her target lies and pauses at the back corner of a small boutique. Something hidden twists and her perspective lurches as she reaches out to the wall and begins to climb up it like an oversized spider, floating over the surface with her hands and feet lightly tapping over the brick. What…?

She ignores her host, musing over how humans rarely ever guard their rooftops in their ignorance of the things which soar above them and wish to consume their soft flesh.

Her host lingers in confused silence in the back of their shared skull until she grips the roof edge and levers herself up and onto the roof. She stands on the roof and navigates around the various fans and ductwork until she reaches the far edge. The confusion and surprise from her host turns into a yelp as the Idol eyes the gap between the store roofs and sprints forward, leaping across the gap! Oh god what!? Her host exclaims as the Idol glides through the air buoyed by invisible currents across the gap and lands with a thump on the next roof.

Her sprint doesn't stop and she leaps over the next gap. She hops along until she reaches the final roof and lands in a crouch. Her body is breathing hard, a spike of irritation going through her at the fatigue weighting her limbs and the heart pounding in her ribs. Hissing quietly she straightens and looks around the roof. The wind whips at her red hair as she notes the barren expanse of the roof, a small handful of air ducts snaking their way around the roof. She turns and walks to the edge overlooking the service road.

Huh. That was some demon bullshit there alright… I wonder what else you can do… Her host muses, a spike of hatred and the anticipation of vengeance blotting out everything else her host is feeling. It washes away the Idol's irritation as she looks down into the alley.

There in the middle of the back wall is a camera and a door with a small white light above it. A small wire goes up one side of the doorway. Before she can ask her host speaks up. I don't know what that is.

It does not matter. The Idol declares. Her remnants of power surge and a crackling fog forms between her fingers as she prepares one of her most used spells, Soul Arrow. Zhew! A bolt of white and grey light then lances forward and smashes the camera from its stand with a bang. Parts go flying into the alley and the Idol wastes no time dropping off the roof and landing with a light tap in front of the door.

She grabs the door and pulls viciously. The door creaks and the frame cracks with a sharp snap but it doesn't give. Frowning in annoyance she rests a hand against the doorframe over the lock bar and another Soul Arrow blows apart the lock. The door flies open with a puff of smoke. Would the alarm be silent? She asks her host.

She gets the equivalent of a shrug. Probably? Her host responds. She rushes into the back room of the store, eyes scanning over the boxes and finding mostly cleaning supplies and a few crates labeled as shirts and pants. Not what she needs right now. She pushes open the door into the shop floor and peeks out. A quick check shows no cameras in this part of the store and she looks over the interior.

In front of her is the shop counter and the shop floor itself is laid out with clothing racks and shelves in four rows that rise to just below head height. To her right in the corner are a bunch of shelves built into the walls holding shoes and boots and she vaults over the counter in that direction, pulling her hood down as she goes.

Her host sighs. If you really want new shoes my shoe size is a seven. The Idol trots over to the shoe section and starts grabbing leather boots which say 'seven' off the shelves. Her hands snatch up several pairs, then she doubles back and hops back over the counter. A glance at the wall clock mounted on the wall behind the counter shows she's already spent three minutes getting in and grabbing her haul.

Reaching out to the teller's station she melts a hole through the lock and yanks open the station, ignoring her host's cry of outrage as she reaches in and takes out several dozen high denomination bills.

Stuffing the money in a pocket she rushes out the door and into the back room. Pulling off her tennis shoes she pulls on first one pair of lace up calf boots in black, then tosses them aside when they pinch her ankle. Pulling on another pair of ankle boots she finds them too loose and tosses them aside as well.

Her second to last option is a pair of boots that went to mid calf in soft matte black leather with a buckle to secure them around her calf over the front and a little loop of leather to pull them up. They sit comfortably and when she taps her toes on the linoleum they seem to have a respectable amount of cushioning. Spinning she kicks one of the metal poles holding up the shelving back here and the bar dent slightly with a clang. The impact and pain in her foot was minimized by the sole nicely.

Good. The Idol is satisfied. These would do quite well. The pain fades quickly as she trots out of the back door and into the alley.

The sound of sirens in the distance reaches her over the wind and she returns to the roofs in a flash of movement and clatter of her new boots on brick. She was curious about the constables in this town.

What are you doing? Her host asks her, then snorts before the Idol can answer. They're cops, they aren't that interesting. Unless you get on their bad side.

The Idol settles onto a roof behind a large boxy unit and peers out as a car with a flashing light bar and a siren blaring pulls up in front of the store. Two men in blue uniforms adorned with a variety of devices exit the vehicle. The Idol's gaze zeros in on the holstered weapons on their hips. It takes her a moment to identify them as guns given the unusual shape.

Do all police walk around armed like that? The Idol murmurs to her host as she backs up, hiding herself fully behind the air unit.

"Davis check the back, I'll take the front." She hears one speak.

Mall cops and some security guards don't but yeah. You bulletproof? She asks archly?

The Idol sneers. I could be. Regardless, how do they communicate? Whistles?

… Whistles? We're not exactly in the Victorian here. They use radios. Her host answers. With the word a flow of context frames in her mind what a radio can do.

She hisses in disgust. Wonderful. Hunger gnaws at the pit in her stomach, deeper and deeper as she turns away. She grumbles quietly as she retreats from the scene, considering how she might use such an organization to her own advantage.

But first she needs to find somewhere where she can get the lay of the town. She still has that picture, sequestered away in a pocket.