[color=ed1c24][b][h3]Dmitri Pavlovich[/h3][/b][/color]

[@gravity22][@Shikaru]

[color=8882be][i]Dmitri pulled a bright narrow beam pocket flashlight out of his pocket and shone it  quickly around the warehouse, checking that all the cultists were down, which they were for now... though most were still alive and groaning, whimpering, or otherwise verbalizing their agony. Dmitri didn't like that the Imp hadn't been anywhere to be found. That was annoying.[/i][/color] [color=ed1c24]"Appologies, I should have figured you'd be hungry after all the stress today. If you don't mind, have your [u]friend[/u] search the bodies for anything of interest please. I'm going to get a bigger light."[/color] [color=8882be][i]He passed his flashlight to Anya, and glanced at the girl who'd butted into their business for the day and then lacked the sense to duck back out at the earliest opportunity... Maybe he should toss her in the pens, assuming Anya didn't want to keep her for a late night snack. He set the thought aside, as he stepped back out into the lot and retrieved a hand-held spotlight and after a moments thought an oil lamp. 

Sirens in the distance, made him scowl... He'd have to pull the car into the ware house, but that might actually solve a the lighting issue, he stowed the lights and pulled the car up to the cargo door, also surprisingly unlocked, and opened it with a heave. He parked the car just inside the building and then closed the door, leaving the car running and the headlight pointed at the mass of cultists who lay about, their blood flowing into the pentagram in their midst... Shuddering, Dmitri pulled the water out of the blood, turning into a sludge thicker than molasses. The water floated in a sphere over the pentagram slowly freezing into a solid ball of ice. Dmitri Walked over to Anya, completely frustrated with day's events, which had all gone from bad to worse, and began speaking to her in a low monotone, that wouldn't carry even to girl foolish enough to meddle in events she couldn't change. He spoke of all the events of his day since he'd left her apartment, telling things as he'd done them, seen them, and heard them, though what he'd thought he rarely bothered to even hint at. He watched the girl move slowly from body to body in the light of his head lights as he spoke. If she tried anything, he'd shoot fist and ask questions later, as is his habit.[/i][/color]