Sound bounced back to him off the closed space. Fidrieon didn’t quite sound right as Ian played. His fingers flew over the keys and blood dripped down over the lip of the flute. This wasn’t working. He had to play tonight at the bar and he couldn’t. With a snarl he sucked the blood off his lips and spat it onto the floor of the practice room and stormed out of it. The cuts on his knuckles had also split open the blood slid across Fidrieon as he walked towards the infirmary.

The duty nurse was insistent that she help. Ian had given her one look and she’d left the antibiotics, cotton swabs and alcohol on the cot while he cleaned the cuts on his hands. Stopping from time to time to spit the blood from his cut lip into the sink. Anytime the nurse came back he growled and she went scurrying.

She soon got another patient who needed her attention. Ian couldn’t exactly see her from where he stood, nor did he really care, but he did hear the conversation between the women.

“Hello, Mrs Carla~! Sorry to bother you again, I think my shoulder’s broken.”

“Your shoulder?! How the hell did you manage that?!”

“Oh this time I’m innocent, I swear. I was a ghost who caused this.”

“A ghost?”

“A living legend!” Laugh followed on the visitor’s part and a grumble on the nurse’s. “Come here, you’ll need a x-ray if you think it’s broken. You have to deem yourself lucky that this place is so well-equipt.”

“Haaaai~”

Ian more or less ignored the exchange as he held gauze to the cut on his lip in annoyance.

A couple of minutes later the patient re-emerged and shamelessly started poking her head in between the screens, looking at the other patients.

“Ah! Ian, what’s happened to you?” She asked, perplexed at his beaten up state. She had rarely talked to him personally but she’d never seen him lose a match.

“Fidrieon opted to not be helpful in the middle of a fight. Turns out Iris isn’t a pushover. Of course I probably should have been paying attention.” He didn’t bother to turn towards her as he wrapped his knuckles up. “However, these are the result of ruining a perfectly good wooden dummy. Unfortunately its not going to be repairable. Too many pieces.”

Sam grinned and waved her newly immobilised shoulder. “Bad day for both of us then. And even worse for the dummy. Don’t hold it against Iris though, she has a lot to prove, being new and all. Heck, I’d be pissing myself if they made me fight you first thing after joining.”

Ian gave her a flat look “That would be because I’m not supposed to be in Lazarus’s class. At least not that one. I shouldn’t have been fighting her to begin with.” He made no comment about his intention either way in terms of holding a grudge. He gave no further indication that he planned on interacting with her.

“I say it’s fate.” Sam grinned, well aware that she was getting on his nerves. “Just like it’s fate that I found you here just when I was looking for someone to hang out with today. I’m off shopping for some very powerful and mysterious artefacts that are bond to make you either much stronger, or much weaker. Think about it.” She whispered and disappeared into the infirmary’s hallway.

Ian pursed his lips as he debated following after Sam. Finally he made up his mind and took off down the hall after her. “Fine you have my attention what exactly did you have in mind?”

Sam spun around, a bit overly theatrical, and spread one arm out, as two was an impossible number at the moment. “As I said, a mystical artifact awaits your attention, Mr Snyder~ It’s bond to give you happiness, and maybe even fame. I shall be your guide on this quest for glory, my amazing navigation skills surely bringing us to the shore of Fortune~!”

Ian sniffed a little in bland acceptance of her foolishness. “What the hell do you need me for? Clearly I can’t even beat a freshman in a fight.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “You just want my money don’t you?” His eyes twinkled just a little bit at that.

“Oh, you have money? That’s even better~” Sam chirped, unbothered. “There are two roles in this game - a subdued one and a subduer. I don’t mind which I play, all I need is for someone else to play the other.” She turned around and winked at him. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing kinky. But it should be fun nonetheless.”



Samantha's walk always resembled a march rather than a simple way of getting somewhere. Her shoulders were hunched and her stride was long but her head was held high and her expression - nonchalant. Her steps were heavy and produced rhythmic thuds as her boots beat the ground beneath her feet. She didn't speak much and evaded every question with a grin, obviously thinking that would only make the game more interesting. It wasn't long before they reached what seemed to be their destination – the Church Hill Market.

This was a market specifically dedicated to the long-gone ages, playing on Loom's nostalgia on items no one really needed anymore – cassette players, tapestry, lacy tablecloths or clay pottery – all could be found here. It was teaming with people, mostly old, as to be expected based on the goods offered. Yet there was also the odd young person walking about, probably doing errands for their grandparents.

Sam overtook a few dozen elderly people shuffling their feet with the speed of a race-car and dived straight into a record shop. Inside the few well-groomed people in suits that were browsing the old entertainment paid neither her, nor Ian any heed. Nobody objected as she shamelessly strode past the staff door either.

Ian followed Sam having fallen silent as she refused to tell him quite what was happening. He’d never been to the Church Hill Market but it was his kind of place, his family had been the kind of people to engage in bringing home antique. Ian followed Sam, this show been rather intersting at least.

Inside the staff entrance awaited a surprise. It wasn't the typical narrow and sterile-looking white corridor that usually let the staff of a business pass through in a hurry. No, instead it seemed like the hallway of somebody's office or home. Solid oak coated the floor, a myriad of tiny halogen lights creating pools of light on its polished surface. The walls were a neutral magnolia colour but the ceiling immediately caught the attention – it was a huge canvas. Two beautiful figures, one with horns and one without, were floating in the sky, their outreached fingers touching. Behind them an angel's arms were open, reaching out for both but not quite touching. There was something familiar about the painting, as if Ian had seen it somewhere else before, if slightly different.

What was even more bizarre was the room the hallway was leading up to. It was a big round space with no clear edges and hidden lights illuminating the ceiling. Along the walls were a few dozen pillars, each a stand for a single mask.

Ian narrowed his eyes as he approached the room “Sam...are those what I think they are?....” His sentence trained off as the continued down the hall. He could hear Koshmar laughing inside his cage. The hallway was strange to say the least but the least of his worries. “I certainly hope that you know what you’re doing”. This was certainly a new experience for him.

Sam just grinned, obviously enjoying his reaction to the peculiar gallery.

“We're going Angel today, Ian.” She chirped, stopping her boots in front of a mask that seemed to have caught her attention. They were near all the same, barely any features on them, all porcelain and cold-looking. If Ian didn't know what he did, he might just presume they were ordinary masks. But of course, they weren't. And the reason why Koshmar resonated with them so well was because they were more similar than one might assume.

Sam outstreched her fingers and stroked the cool surface of her chosen mask with surprising gentleness.

“This one is a Miracle angel.” She explained, turning to him with a weird smile on her face, eyes alight. “You wouldn't be able to tell but if you use your instrument they can identify them. Just the same way they can see people in the dark when we can't.”

The Guardian, Put on the Guardian mask Ian got an image of Koshmar clawing through the bars of a cage made of nightmares and obsidian. Ian scowled. “Isn’t this more than a little bit dangerous?” Ian gave Sam a concerned look “For us in particular” God she was attractive. It was certainly his libido talking but it had been years. Courtesy of Koshmar. He had the strangest urge to do it though. Maybe it was a need to continue impressing her but Ian didn’t care this was the most human interaction he’d had in too long. Stepping over to the mask Koshmar had indicated he scooped it up.

Time slowed and Ian turned his head to the left and caught a flicker of Koshmar’s form behind him. “Scared?” Ian snorted. “Not really” Koshmar chuckled at that “You’d be smart to be fearful”. Ian shook his head at that “Fear leads to indecision” Ian turned to Sam. “So how does this work? You show me yours I show you mine?” Ian smiled sarcastically.

“They are sealed, I'm afraid.” A woman's voice interjected, proving that the room wasn't empty after all. Or maybe it had been until just then. “For security reasons.” she added. “However you are welcome to meet our customer advisor in the next room if you'd like any further information or a trial of our products.” She gestured at the door behind herself and stepped away from it as Sam sped up towards it.

The door didn't lead straight to a room – instead it lead to another hallway hosting a number of doors, this time with signs hung over them. The teenagers looked around curiously to spot signs such as “Laboratory”, “Isolator”, “Infirmary” and “Treatment” among others. All of them had a set of signs next to them indicating whether they're taken or vacant. And sure enough, one of the doors read “Cursomer Service” though their attention was drawn to it thanks to a man appearing at the doorframe than through anything else.

The hairs on Ian’s neck stood up, this was a very strange place indeed. He checked the small of his back for the Springfield. He’d loaded it with RIP rounds, they were a vicious invention from the start of the twenty first century, and were quite effective against demons and angels as well as humans. The rounds tore apart like nothing else he’d ever seen inside the target. They were even effective against most types of armor and walls. They were the equivalent of firing a hole saw at someone.

“Welcome, my dear guests.” The man said with a smile even more brilliant than his polished black dress-shoes. His expensive suit was a testament of his status even more than his badge. “The name is Azoth, and I'm happy to have you. Please come join me in my office.”

That room was as homey and cosy as any business office could ever dream to be. Simple and functional furniture, more comfortable than it actually looked, a few rows of catalogues on a shelf next to the desk, some plants and prospects laying around in strategic places. What set it apart was the colour of the walls – a peculiar mixture of blue and grey with a silver gleam to it, and the big painting on the wall behind the desk – the same as the one on the ceiling in the hallway.

As everyone took their seats – the man behind the desk and Ian and Sam next to each other on the other side of it, the man noticed Ian's stare fall on the painting and smiled, half-turning towards it.

“It's very old-fashioned, I agree, so I couldn't help commissioning a little upgrade from the original. Consider it a little inside joke.” He grinned, not specifying what the pun even was and turned towards his visitors again. He put his elbows on the desk and narrowed his red eyes at them, looking suddenly smug. The man was a demon and he wasn't hiding it.“So you have an interest in purchasing some of our products?”

“Product is a rather interesting term for it.” Ian was scrutinizing the painting still but he turned back to Azoth. “that being said I believe you know the answer.” Koshmar’s Nightmare fire flickered over Ian’s eyes momentarily. This is such a bad idea Ian thought to himself but Koshmar was slavering at the bit for this, which was why the Nightmare fire was starting to bleed through into his eyes. Even though he had a leash on Koshmar, it was still like holding the leash of a rabid dog.

The man opposite levelled a bemused stare at Ian but before he could say anything, Sam interrupted him.

“Rent.” She said impatiently, a grin ever-present on her face. She didn't seem to be nervous at the situation though Ian doubted she knew exactly what she was doing. “We want to rent them for a little while and then we'll give them back.”

Azoth laughed, but not too loud, careful not to offend.

“I'm afraid that would be impossible. There are creatures walking this earth capable of making out the specific signatures of the masks and I can't risk getting on their bad side.”

Sam displayed her displeasure by crossing her arms and slamming her back against that of the chair.

“If you are still interested, you can find the list of our models and the respective prices here.” The man continued unfazed, producing two catalogues from the shelf next to him and handing them to Sam and Ian. Inside, as promised, were pictures of the masks (peculiarly enough, they had names), their nature and abilities and the prices. They were organized by prices and started from the most expensive ones. The one Sam had looked one was right there.

“Five million?!” She shouted, with disbelief.

The man smiled apologetically but it was obvious he didn’t quite mean it. “All our Miracle angels are expensive.” There are some creatures that are better liked than others and the career paths for Miracles are layered with silver and gold.”

Sam puffed out some air and went quiet, looking over the rest of the catalogue.

Ian snorted. “Really? You’re asking five mil for your top of the line? Maybe we’d be better off somewhere else Sam.” Ian smirked. His parents had left him a fortune with a lot of zeros. although he rarely used it. “Seems like you’re pawning cheap knock offs” Koshmar even seemed stunned by that but then he realized what Ian was up to and snickered. “How do we know you’re legit? Five million seems really low for a Miracle Angel mask. Which makes me wonder if you’re trying to sell us smoke by low balling a fake.”

Standing he stretched languidly, it had been a very long time since he’d played the spoiled rich brat but he could still do it. “So lets be real Az…” He shortened the Demons name on purpose “I need to see the goods before I’m buying. 5 mil is chump change so I wanna know I’m actually getting a good deal as opposed to being screwed out my spending money for this month.” He hoped Sam didn’t think he was actually a rich brat but this guy needed to be shown that they weren’t just kids looking for a high.
Ian I didn’t know you had it in you Koshmar’s approval was like a slick of oil coating his psyche.

“So, what’s it gonna be Az?” Ian lounged against the wall next to the door “You got a display model or are we headed to someone who’s the real deal?”

Sam was staring at him open-mouthed. Azoth didn't give him that pleasure, but he was obviously amused when he got to his feet as well.

“But of course, my lord.” He joked as he saw the kid could take a jest. “I take my business very seriously so we do everything we can to ensure the mask and the wearer are compatible. If you'd like to follow me to the Laboratory we can start with the first stage of the testing.”

Ian winked at Sam and offered a hand out of the chair.

Azoth lead the two of them out of the room and back down to a door marked Laboratory. Keying a pad by the door he pushed the door open and held it to allow Sam and Ian entry. It was an observation room overlooking a sterile white room with a stark white table in the middle of it. A man was sitting on it while a nurse prepared an injection at a counter next to him.

“We start the process by injecting you with a sample of the Angel or Demon Essence. And before you become concerned its a negligible amount. The idea is to make sure the mask you want isn’t going to be hostile towards you when you fuse with it. After we determine if the bonding will be safe, you’re allowed to bond with the Mask in order to determine if it’s the right fit for you. It’s a half an hour in the Isolation unit for you to make sure everything is in order and to your liking.”

Ian stepped up to the window folding his hands behind his back. They were just below the pistol in the small of his back “How often do you have issues with the procedures?” He was all business now. If he was going to purchase one of these things he wanted to know how much of a risk he was running. He suspected it was a sharp one.

Azoth shrugged, Ian caught the motion in the window as it reflected well enough for him to see Sam and Azoth. “We have an 87 percent success rate which is far higher than any other establishment than you will be able to find.” Ian nodded. No use antagonizing him at this point by claiming that there was somewhere else Sam and he could go that would be better. “I assume the injection process is safe?”

Joining Ian at the window he gestured down as the nurse injected the man sitting on the table. “See for yourself. We’ve made remarkable advances in medical tech, the needles don’t even prick anymore. The worst you can expect from a bad injection is a headache and a night or two of moderate nightmares. Koshmar chuckled and Ian smirked. “Well Azoth I’d say you’ve succeeded in impressing me and assuring me that you’re not going to try and rip us off. Lets talk product.”

The man seemed pleased.

“Have you decided on the masks you're interested in in particular? We like to test specific samples of the masks at the top of your list. Our researchers have established that it would be safe for you to try up to three samples with five minute intervals in-between. You're welcome to try more, of course, but we don't recommend it.”

“We want a Miracle and a demon. He's paying for it.” Sam grinned, nodding at Ian, just in case. “Do you have a favourite?” She asked with restrained excitement.

Ian pondered for a minute. “Something with some magical might, preferably in the enhancement department.” Ian had some untested magic powers he knew but it was almost negligible. He stood for a second listening to Koshmar “And The Nightmare says it better argument my magical reservoir so I don’t keel over when I use Nightmare fire.” Ian raised an eyebrow. “Got something in mind?”

“Of course.” Azoth smiled, opening the catalogue on the exact page. “Ishrael is the demonic equivalent of a weather angel. He's good at water and wind manipulation. Vaamrael” he flicked on another page to show another mask to Ian. “Is an enchanter. He also has some abilities in essence manipulation, but you'd have to work on that to perfect it. Esifur is a blacksmith who is capable of directly crafting artefacts through alchemy and craftsmanship. And if you're looking for more utilitarian magic, Landris is great at levitation magic and cleaning.” He smirked. “As for your energy you shouldn't worry about that. All of them are experienced in magic usage and in replenishing their energy. All you have to worry about is nutrition. Obviously, the longer you remain a demon the more detached you'll feel from human food. As soon as you take the mask off you might feel more hungry than you did while you wore it, or more tired, but that's a natural process of your body readjusting itself.”

Ian gave him a condescending look. “Koshmar seems to think you’re holding out on me, cleaning and levitation are all good but endurance and coordination are better.” He pointed at Vaamrael’s mask. “This is close to what I’m looking for but more in the physical department. Koshmar seems to think that I require enhancements to my musculature in order to make merging with him a more viable option.” Ian crossed his arms. “Come on now Azoth, don’t you hold out on me, I am picking up the Tab after all”

“Ah, I see what you mean.” Azoth's smile stretched, his eyes flashing. “What would you say about a griffin then? They are well renowned for their endurance and agility, you should know, as well as some aerial magic. Of course, in order to turn into a beast you'd have to bond quite throughly with the mask, but unless you use it regularly, the physical alterations should be minimal. Claws, feathers, wings, possibly. Another option is a minotaur or a draconic creature. I wouldn't recommend the latter, however, not because I doubt you can afford it, but because I doubt its use will stay unnoticed. Definitely not in your institution.” A smirk twitched on his lips and disappeared just as quick. “The reason I'm suggesting beastly creatures is because they are best when it comes to endurance. If you want a humanoid warrior, I have a few other suggestions, just let me know. And, I need to warn you that we are talking about a different price-range as well.” Azoth smiled, pulling out a much smaller but relatively thick catalogue from his inner pocket and handed it to Ian.

Ian tapped his lip, the Griffin sounded fine or even a dragon but Koshmar seemed annoyed by the suggestion. “I think that at the very least I’d like to hear more against the more humanoid. If i’m going to put this to work regularly I suspect that I will need to be relatively inconspicuous.” Ian took the catalogue to and began paging through it. He stopped and grinned. “I think I’ve found what I’m looking for.” He turned the Catalogue so Azoth could see. “I assume the reason there is no price listed is because this is one of those things that if you have to ask you don’t have enough?”

Azoth laughed “Correct.” Ian grinned at Sam “Then I’ll take The Thorned One. Shall we get started?”

“Finally!” Sam exclaimed with a grin.

Azoth lead Sam and Ian out of the room and to another doorway which took them into another room which was almost identical to the room that they had seen the injection occur in. “You’ll have to wait here while I have them prepare the injection, We need to make sure that the masks will except you” With that Azoth closed the door behind him and left Ian and Sam in the stark white room.

Sam’s feet were impatiently beating the floor again. She seemed really excited.

“I’m surprised you actually followed through. I like you.” Sam grinned at Ian. “Ever done this before or is it your first time as well?”

Ian looked from her tapping feet to her excited face. “Not exactly. I’ve experimented with fusing with Koshmar…” He rubbed his head sheepishly. “Probably not the best idea but I wanted to know what exactly it was, you can only read so much before you have to try something”

“Naughty!” Sam shouted and laughed. “And who is Koshmar exactly? Been talking about him a lot.”

“Talking to him is more like it” Ian rolled his eyes “Koshmar is the name Fidrieon’s personality has adopted, Its Russian for nightmare. He thinks it’s appropriate. Which I guess it is. He’s just kind of a jack ass. Well now he is…” Ian trailed off into thought. “He used to be what I thought was some sort of cosmic punishment. Dunno what the hell for. Hazumi finally reined him in.” Ian hopped up on the table to sit in sullen silence. It stung admitting he’d needed help especially since it had been so recently and especially to Sam who didn’t seem to be phased by all that much. “I guess its better now, better being a relative term”.

Sam stared at him with wide eyes full of curiosity and attempt to comprehend.

“So you’re one of those guys. The ones who have trouble with their Instruments. See, me and Sameda, we don’t have that problem at all, but it doesn’t really speak to me either and I wish it did. It must be nice to bond with them, though I guess not so much in your case. You should just quit, then, if you hate it. You know you can, right? I wouldn’t put up with it if anyone was poking in my head and giving me nightmares - he needs to learn to respect you or you need to make him. Give him nightmares!” She giggled.

“It’s not quite that simple” Ian avoided eye contact. “This is alI I have now, so quitting isn’t an option and as for giving him nightmares. Well I don’t know about that. Maybe the mask will help” You know Ian for such a great combatant you really are no good at taking what you want Ian flared his nostrils in annoyance. Hazumi had gotten Koshmar out of his dreams. Too bad she hadn’t shut him up. Quit bitching Ian sighed.

“Koshmar would have you believe he’s doing me a big favor or something, the reason he wants me to take up a mask is so that I’m less ‘fragile’ “ He framed the word with his fingers. “He’s convinced he’s going to get me to completely bond with him” I am. Ian stopped talking and just sat staring at the white tiled floor.

“Hey, I’m not talking to that Koshmar demon, am I, I’m talking about you.” Sam snapped at him. “Who cares what he wants if he can’t get it - it’s still your body, even if you have him whispering in your ear all the time. Be a proper teenager and stop listening to adults so much.” She waved dismissing the problem like it was an annoying fly.As if to demonstrate her point she jumped off the table, pulled Fidrieon out with a shamelessly percise movement and tossed him across the room to the far end of it.

Hey, What the fuck was that? Ian ignored him. “A proper teenager? My parents would have had you believe that a proper teenager listens to adults.” Ian hopped from the table and strode over to pick up Fidrieon. He snatched up the flute and spun it on the palm of his left hand before passing it to the palm of his right hand. Turning his hand side ways he spun it twice around his middle finger and slid it back into it’s sheath with a fluid motion. “However, lets stop listening to adults and do something dumb for fun” He grinned at her. “And careful where you fling Fidrieon. It’s a decent instrument even if it has a demon in it.” He laughed.

“Don’t worry, they don’t break that easily.” Sam grinned, approving of his eagerness for adventure. As if on queue, a man and a woman entered the room, They were carrying white medical coats, and, as expected, two injections. They rolled up the youth’s sleeves and instructed them to relax and clear their minds, as if meditating. A painless stab after, they were asked to keep quiet and concentrate on figuring out the intentions of the essence they were injected with.

“If you are unsure we can give you another dose but keep in mind there’s no way to extract it, so only ask us to if you feel safe.” The man explained.

Ian felt it, a presence unlike Koshmar, it was clean like a blade. It moved through his psyche instead of over it gently parting the storm of his mind instead of tainting it. It wasn’t malevolent, it was dark that was certain but it didn’t seem to bear him ill will. You have promise child. It has been a long time since I found someone with promise this is good

Shivering Ian looked at the man in the lab coat. “I think it likes me” The man seemed almost startled at that. “I’m ready, give me the mask” The man nodded “Follow me” Ian stood and before he left he squeezed Sam’s shoulder “Good luck, I’ll see you on the otherside”.

Sam giggled at the theatrical phrase and closed her eyes in an attempt to concentrate on the inner-workings of her body. She couldn't feel anything but a slight tingling and it didn't matter how hard she listened. Her foot dangled off the side of the bed while she was waiting for sudden enlightenment but eventually her eyes opened and she frowned at the nurse.

“Next please, nothing's happening.”

The nurse seemed slightly perplexed but still gave Sam another dose of the same essence. This time the girl felt it. It started off as the tingles but with another heartbeat it grew into the fizzy warming feeling you got from drinking alcohol. Yet this time she knew it was because of the close proximity of another human being.

She opened her eyes and, still frowning, looked at the nurse's face. It was shimmering and more beautiful than Sam remembered.

Hell no! she thought to herself and laughed, hopping off the table.

“Mask please!” She chirped as she hopped to catch up with Ian.

----

The Isolator was a fairly large glass room behind the solid walls of another room but they were not allowed to go in together. Insisting that she wasn't any threat to anyone, Sam impatiently asked if it isn't possible to try her mask on there. Luckily, the door to the Isolator itself was armoured so they allowed her to. She was presented with the mask she'd liked and the staff monitoring them was changed to two angels. Sam didn't know why at first but figured it out as soon as the cold porcelain touched her cheeks and the mask melted away on her face. Miracle angels could only do harm to demons. Something she couldn't care less about.

With a sudden gasp Samantha spread out her arms and with them she also spread her newly-grown wings. A small breeze passed through the room and ruffled the hairs of the two dispassionate angel nurses.

As Sam suspected , something about Ian had changed and his face was suddenly even more attractive than the nurse's. Ironically enough, so was everyone else's. The girl just giggled at the observation.

With a whimsical flick of the wrist she stole some light from the lamps above and splashed it around in a generous gesture that scattered a million little light-bunnies around the room. As it landed on the floor she swirled her finger and, even at a distance, the light danced and twirled as if it was a lake she was stirring with her finger.

Someone asked if everything was alright. Everything was alright, the sun was shining (probably), the birds were chirping (probably) and demons and angels were holding hands all over the city (probably).

With a loud laugh Sam took the mask off and laid it back on the satin purple cushion.

“He'll take it.” She grinned at the nurses, gesturing at Ian and moving to the glass window to observe his progress.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They handed Ian a grey mask. It was a nondescript humanoid face with part of it that appeared to have been burned. However when Ian picked it up it felt like it was part of the mask;s design. I don’t know about this Ian Koshmar sounded...concerned?

Ian snarled in surprise victory, he’d thrown Koshmar off balance. Koshmar had felt the beings presence and wasn’t sure he could bully it. With that he fitted the mask to his face. It was like diving into the depths of an endlessly dark ocean. A soothing cold pushed away any pain or fatigue he felt and there was silence. Blessed silence from Koshmar. He opened his eyes and a grin curved across his face. His frame had changed, his limbs were longer but thinner. His face was drawn and pale compared to his normal features and his skin was grey. His hair had also grown to frame his face and it was the color of oil.

Flexing spidery dexterous hands he marveled at the power he felt in them. Observing his reflection he was shocked. Spurs had sprouted from his knees and elbows as well as smaller ones at his other joints and his forehead now sported two small horns concealed by his longer black hair. Ian realized there were other adjustments as well. His muscle density had increased significantly and he was fairly certain his essence control had grown exponentially.

As though by reflex he lifted his right hand and conjured a sickly green energy. He knew it would pass directly through the wall and strike at the other individuals in the building if he wanted it to but he had the strangest urge to not bother. Almost as though they weren’t worth it. Much the way a human feels about a single ant. Not worth the bother to squash. Letting go of the energy he tested his legs. They were powerful, he turned so he had the whole length of the room, and launched himself across it. It was a wonderful feeling. Koshmar’s voice interrupted his ruminations Are you quite finished playing with your new toy? Ian was suddenly done taking Koshmar’s smart ass remarks. He stuffed the psychic equivalent of a gag in Koshmar’s mouth and hurled him back into his cell in the depths of Ian consciousness.

Much better, no more annoyances to disturb him. ‘How the hell did I do that?’ Ian suddenly thought. That was when he realized the presence. It was certainly a being and he was certain it could communicate directly with him but it had refrained from doing so, it had simply helped him to do the things he wanted to do. Much in the way a word processor corrected misspelled words. It had made the necessary adjustments for Ian’s conjuration, psychic gag order and even corrected for the leap he had made not being aware of the full power of his muscles.

Ian wasn’t even sure if it was evil. In fact he had the strangest sense that it was certainly a dark presence but not in the malevolent sense. More in the way that a predator radiates a tangible aura. Ian whispered “Namshiel” and the presence seemed to quiver in acknowledgement. This was a being of power and dark knowledge, a supernatural predator from the days when humans had only dreamed of what lay beyond heaven and hell’s gates. It was not evil so much as savage and cunning beyond anything Ian had encountered. Bellow it’s surface Ian could feel the weight of millennia of knowledge. Namshiel was old, very old.

Reaching up he removed the mask and turned. “We’ll take them both. Where’s the bill?”

----

“That will be 35 million altogether, please.” Azoth announced with a smile. Behind him the two angels were carefully wrapping the masks in a peculiar type of fabric that seemed equal amounts rubbery and silky and putting them in intricately ornate square boxes. Sam was looking at hers with a bemused approval. ”The saleth that they’re wrapped in will protect them from being sensed by anyone as you leave the establishment. Please burn the fabric afterwards - it’s highly flammable and produces hardly any smoke, so it should be no problem to dispose of it discreetly.” Sam raised an eyebrow at that but didn’t say anything.

Ian nodded. “So Azoth, you seem to like to deal, so I thought perhaps you’d appreciate this. I can pay you the 35 million right here and now. Or. I give you 25 million now. And in the future you get a marker you’re free to call in. I do a job for you and we call it even. Are you interested?” Ian didn’t smirk or give any kind of indication of his feelings. He simply stated the offer and crossed his arms.

Azoth’s eyes twinkled as he crossed his fingers and observed the young man with a smirk. The boy certainly had potential but he also had limitations. The question was, was it worth the investment.

Making up his mind, the man clapped once and reached out to squeeze Ian’s hand.

“Deal.”

Ian let Koshmar out of his cage. He didn’t trust Azoth at all. Nightmare fire burned in Ian’s eyes. “Deal” Ian’s voice had the double tone of partially bonding with Koshmar. This should be interesting “and for the record. If it’s an assassination.” He pointed at Sam “You even consider asking me to kill her, I’ll kill you instead” Nightmare fire flickered in his eyes. “Just for the record” He grinned “Otherwise I suspect you know where to find me”.

The man laughed. ”Don’t worry, nothing that grim, I would hope. Assassination is not my style. Now, for the legal matters. While my business might look shady to you, it is actually an official one.“

“‘s that why you hide it?” Sam spoke up with a scoff.

“That’s just good measure for keeping some unsightly incidents from the faint-hearted. Besides, not everyone is as forward-thinking as you young people.”

“I suddenly lost my respect for you.” Sam commented, turning her head to explore the room instead. Azoth cleared his throat and looked back at Ian who seemed a much more attentive customer.

“Those masks will now be officially registered under your names. As such, and because I want to minimise the risk of any confrontation with the government or Master Melody’s, I’d like you to both sign those contracts here and offer a droplet of your blood as a stamp. Or a tear, that suits some clients better.” He joked. “Of course, that information will be strictly confidential and will only be disclosed to the highest authorities in the case of a severe crime committed while wearing the mask. I’d like to think that it wouldn’t come to that. Additionally, if you ever feel as though the mask doesn’t suit your taste anymore or are having any other kind of trouble, please bring it in for recycling. As another security measure, please refrain from putting it in your will or selling it on as it would be dangerous for anyone to put it on without undergoing our tests first.”

“Understood.” Ian produced a butterfly knife and flipped it open. “Where do I sign” Ian laughed as he rifled through his bag and produced a pen to sign the contract. After a quick flourish he pricked himself with the blade and stamped his thumb on the contract. “Sam?” Ian held out the butterfly knife. “Oh and as soon as you’re done with the contracts, I can give you the account number you’ll need.”

Sam hurried to sign her own contract and grinned at Ian, hugging him suddenly.

“Thank you~” She chirped.

Ian caught her; it was the first time in a Very long time that he’d had the pleasure of true human contact “Oh yes for getting us into an absurd amount of trouble” He gently let her go, loathed to do so. “Is that all you needed from us?” He directed it at Azoth.

“Yes, that is everything.” The man stood and reached out to squeeze Ian’s hand again. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

-----

Name: Shaylee Carter
Alias/Nickname: Shay
Age: 23
Race: Human
Appearance:


Social Status:
Relations: Shaylee’s is one of the great-great-great-great Grandchildren of Howard Carter; the archeologist who found the tomb of King Tutankhamun. Shaylee’s family has a family tradition of sending their second child to study at Trinity College. Shaylee was not the exception and was sent to live in Ireland when she turned nineteen to study at the college. In her time there she sat through a guest lecture with Dr. Thomas Finch who had retired almost two centuries ago. After discovering in her third year that she was gifted in magic she sought out the Resurrection mage and moved in as a way to get him to tutor her. When Lazarus learned what magic she was talented in he quickly moved her and all of her possession from England and Trinity to Finch’s Loft in County Kerry to instruct her.

General Activity: Almost all of Shaylee’s time is consumed in lessons. In addition to a rigorous set of courses in Archeology to complete her MA in Archeology; Shaylee also studies the classics. Lazarus insisted that she be able to play music, draw, paint, speak at least two languages in addition to Gaelic and Ancient Egyptian (her choices were Arabic and Latin). When Shaylee is not training her mind she studies swordplay, parkour, and Wing chun under Lazarus direction as well as knowing how to use a variety of firearms. The last of Shaylee’s time is consumed in studying magic.

Abilities:

Necromancy- Shaylee is not naturally proficient with magic however, with the build up of essence in the world it appears to have caused a change in Shaylee’s abilities. Shaylee is a wholly new type of Necromancer: A Spirit Mage.

Lift the Veil- Shaylee’s essence sight allows her to see the dead in the form they existed in just prior to their death making her capable of identifying souls on sight. Shaylee can also read a souls thoughts simply by looking at it. This ability only works on souls which are not in a living person.

Call Dead- Shaylee can locate the recently dead and any dead who still linger due to negative emotions of bindings which are keeping them in a particular place.

Command- Shaylee is capable of commanding Ethereal undead. While she is yet to encounter a truly powerful shade Shaylee’s powers seem to be nigh unstoppable when it comes to damaged or weak souls

Linger- Shaylee can bind a soul to a particular object or location however unlike other necromancers Shaylee can allow the spirit to manifest and act within a set of rules that she sets for the shade

Create Geist- With angry or vengeful dead linger in the places where they died ready to unleash their rage on those unsuspecting persons who wander into their haunts. Shaylee is capable of directing these angry spirits freeing them from their haunts, arming them and pointing them in the direction she wants allowing her to use them as incredibly dangerous spirit soldiers.

Ectoplasmic Blade- The slow deterioration of damaged souls has begun to leave behind deposits of essence which Shaylee can force into physical manifestation. The substance is psychoreactive and capable of mimicking a variety of properties which the manifestor can impose upon the substance. Shaylee has only recently begun to make use of the Ectoplasm as Lazarus has sarcastically named the substance. Currently Shaylee is capable of manifesting a variety of bladed weapons and a few other simple manifestations of it.

Ectoplasmic bolt- Shaylee is capable of causing the material she manifest to become super heated which makes it an incredibly lethal and destructive substance which she can launch at her enemies. The impact is incredibly destructive and causes the substance to splatter like a magical napalm.

Possession- Shaylee has begun work on the ability to not only manipulate her own essence but that of the ghosts she encounters to force them into other vessels. Currently Shaylee can force the essence of Demons and Angels into weak willed humans. As her powers grow Lazarus speculates she may be able to switch bodies with or simply possess other bodies with her own essence as well as force human souls into angelic or demonic bodies. At this point it is merely speculation.

Wreath of Souls- Shaylee’s defensive magic of choice is to take lingering dead essence and form it into a semisolid shield around her to deflect incoming spells and projectiles. This spell requires more attention the longer she maintains it and the more solid it is. Shaylee can manifest it to swat away low speed kinetic projectiles, melee weapons and low yield energy based spells. Any more than that requires her to devote more attention and magic away from offense to her defense.

Evocation- Shaylee has a decent grasp of basic evocation magic.

Enforce Will- While not nearly as powerful as Lazarus ability to manifest his thoughts as kinetic force Shaylee is relatively capable of doing the same

Alchemy- Shaylee is a capable alchemist and has continued to develop her own style of Alchemy under Lazarus guidance.

Equipment:

Canopic Jars- Shaylee has taken to her heritage and makes use of a set of Canopic jars that Lazarus helped her to craft. They act as vessels for Shaylee’s servitor shades.

Mummification wraps- In keeping with her adopted style of magic Shaylee is capable of crafting sets of linen wraps which can be used to rapidly wrap an individual. They are much more durable than normal linen and can cover a person within a few seconds of the rolled up linen being thrown at the person.

Khepri- An alchemically grafted electrum and steel Khopesh which Lazarus helped Shaylee craft. The blade has be accelerated in it's hardening as Lazarus has refined his method for enhancing the properties of the metal. The core of the hilt is similar to Esperacchius as it can store essence for later use however the sword is not a Soul Vessel like Dracul is. Lazarus has purposefully kept the secrets of Dracul’s creation away from Shaylee as he has deemed it too dangerous for her to make use of. Khepri has been prepared for conversion into a Soul Vessel unbenounced to Shaylee.

Rings- Shaylee wears two rings on each hand which store kinetic energy. The rings are replicas of the rings that Lazarus wears and are also capable of releasing their stored energy in controlled bursts. Shaylee’s differ in that while Lazarus’ rings deliver the force in solid flat planes Shaylee’s deliver the force in focused points. While Lazarus can knock down a wall with a single punch Shaylee can put a thousand tiny holes in the wall causing it to collapse. The only drawback to Shaylee’s rings is that they deplete much more quickly as they divide the stored force into however many smaller points of contact that Shaylee needs

Personality: Will SHow IC

Biography:

Born outside of Stratford-upon-Avon Shaylee grew up on her parents estate which was a summer home of her great grandparents. Much of her instruction was delivered by a string of private tutors hired by her parents. After she finished her primary education she was packed up and shipped off to Trinity as a average member of the Carter family. While at Trinity Shaylee began to develope a minor magical talent but it never developed into something to write home about until she was attacked by a tormented spirit.

One night after classes Shaylee left campus to go drinking with some friends. The pub was subsequently attacked by an incredibly distorted Spirit of a local drunk who had recently been murdered and whom the police had failed to catch the killer. Shaylee found herself capable of seeing the poltergeist and when it came for her she was capable of repelling and then subduing the attacking spirit. Shortly thereafter Dr. Finch gave his lecture on Necromancy and ancient civilizations.

Shaylee decided that she would convince Lazarus to teach her magic if it was the last thing she did. After almost being killed by Finch’s Lofts defenses Shaylee made her case to Lazarus who upon learning of her unique gift agreed to take over her education on behalf of Trinity college.

Name: Francisca Labrys Seax Luxaria
Alias/Nickname: Whore Princess of the Uterine Sea, The Axe, Fran,
Age: Roughly 60 years old. Hard to tell in hell.
Race: Succubus (Hellion).
Appearance:

Social Status: Despite Succubus being a very popular and highly demanded demon type, Fran is considered a Lesser Succubus. Being not much more than an eager whore with skills in using her axe, she’s never really earned any reputation or infamy. Or at least nothing that would impress demons.

Fran is a criminal however, as she has murdered and assaulted others with reckless abandon. She often forgets the strength she possess and the fragility of most mortals. Also public indecency.

Relations: Fran has slept with many people, be they demons, mortals, or even a few angels, however their relationship has largely been “Professional”. Other “Professionals” may have heard of Fran or at least may know others who could contact her, but Fran herself knows very few people of importance.

General Activity: Fran is an escort: You can hire her to protect you and your possessions or to fuck her. She’s fine with either, though sometimes during lean days where she hasn’t been working for more than a week she may stir up trouble and do her job without anyone hiring her. Robbery and indulging in sin are common for her, and she regrets none of it.

Abilities: As a succubus Fran has a multitude of magical abilities. Normally. Due to her disinterest in improving her lot in life, as well as her demonic abilities, she lacks some of the more iconic powers of a succubus such as life draining or mind control. She does have some lesser powers however, which can be useful in her day-to-day life.

Shapeshifting - Fran is capable of some fairly minor shapeshifting, mostly removing her more demonic features to pass as a human physically. She can also transform into a male or something in between, should she so desire. Fran is also capable of appearing like different human (Or those who at least look human) females, changing her hair, body, and face to match their. The only thing she can't change to match is their voice, and as far as her Essence goes she still is a demon.

Illusions - Fran is capable of creating illusions. They are actually quite powerful and could warp one’s very perception of their reality for some time, however it requires one important caveat: For Fran to be able to place an illusion on someone, she must place both hands upon their heads (Or equivalent). Thus she would need to put her axe away if she wants to affect someone with her illusions, though so long as she can Fran's illusions are permanent until she is physically 100 feet away from the target.

Demonic Attributes: As a demon, Fran is typically stronger than most (normal) mortals. She is strong enough to wield an axe far too heavy for even a strong mortal human to use, and with such ease that you’d think she was using a knife instead. However her strength is perhaps the weakest thing about her: Where Fran truly excels is her endurance and agility. Fran is tireless, able to survive many days without rest, even if each day was filled with fighting and fortification. She’ll certainly never go limp. Fran is also able to think and act quickly on her feet. While she doesn’t quite have super speed, even against foes who specialize in their quickness may be surprised to see Fran keep track of them, if not keep up. Fran also has minor regeneration, just enough that should she ever obtain time off to rest, she could recover from anything short of a mortal blow. Specifically immune to disease and poisons of all types.

Equipment:
Axcalibur - Fran’s axe. A double-headed cleaver made of demonic materials. Sturdy, sharp, and nearly indestructible. There are two magic enchantment on it: One is that Fran can call the axe to her hand whenever she wills it. It will fly straight towards her, taking the path of least resistance unless she specifies otherwise. Despite it’s weight and shape, Fran is also quite capable of chucking the weapon with great speed and accuracy, and uses it's returning properties to ensure she always has a weapon in hand. The second enchantment is that it's "Soul Bound" to her. Only Fran can make use of the weapon, and in anyone else possession it is too heavy to even lift. Even if they are an angel of almighty strength, they would not be able to even pickup her axe. Otherwise while it's certainly as heavy as it's size indicates (Large enough that Fran can use it as a shield), Fran can use it just fine.

Shielded Armor - Fran wears what one might call armor, except that it’s far too form fitting and doesn’t do anything to even protect the modesty of Fran’s belly and loins. The armor itself isn’t even made of actual metal but of some sort of synthetic harden cloth, making it light and comfortable to wear. No, the true power of this “armor” is that it projects a fairly powerful barrier a few inches above Fran’s skin or armor, essentially allowing her maximum protection with minimal clothing. There is some purpose to the armor pieces: The less armor she wears, the less powerful the barrier is, with most of the power being contained in her breastplate. With emphasis on her breasts.

Holy Lock - A cursed item put onto Fran when she was hunted down by some angels. The Holy Lock takes the form of a chastity belt that causes her pain if she tries to remove it, and even if she is willing to take the pain only a powerful angel can undo the locks. While it's called a Chasity Belt, it actually looks like a modern pair of athletic shorts.

Personality: Best shown in the IC.

Biography: Obviously, Fran is a succubus. Her origins are unknown even to her; she never cared to research or remember, and all she could remember was that she may have been mortal at some point. Why or how she became what she is now she doesn’t know, nor does Fran care. She enjoys her life as a demon whose only concern is sex and war, as it’s a simple life away from the complexity of politics or scheming.

For the longest time, Fran was simply a demonic whore in the depths of hell. With the title of “Whore Princess of the Uterine Sea”, Fran turned tricks for any demon willing to host her. It was a good gig for a while, if monotonous. But Fran found her true passion when one day, while participating in an orgy, her host was attacked by a gang of rival demons for some reason or another. These demons did not intend to leave any survivors or take any prisoners, as they killed everyone they could reach. Fran was quickly abandoned to fend for herself, and merely being a prostitute, she lacked the training in magic to fight back. However she did learn that she was pretty damn good with an axe. Picking up a weapon from a slain demon, Fran was able to fight against the demons until the host managed to slaughter the attackers with his own gang. Since then Fran has figured she could enjoy the perks of being both a prostitute and mercenary, being paid to do two of either things she enjoys doing most.

Recently Fran has grown bored in the depths of hell. It was nothing but petty power struggles and backstabbing. Most of the time she’s not even hired to protect or have sex with anyone, and it’s just a trap to take her essence to feed some power hungry warlord wannabe. So Fran has moved to the surface world, hoping to find more honest clients there. Unfortunately her appearance and occupation was often looked with distrust by most of the populace, and Fran quickly got bored. A few accidents later and now Fran is a wanted criminal for corpses made and maidens defiled. Currently Fran is hiding out in Loom, hearing that without the world’s watcher tracking down every bit of sin and sodomy that goes on within the world, she might be able to clear her name or at least indulge a bit more before she gets taken out.

Name: Donny Yang
Alias/Nickname: The Don, Quickie
Age: 22
Race: Human
Appearance:


Social Status: Just a courier of Omnibites, a big fast food conglomerate that controls nearly every fast food join in Loom. Has the reputation for being one of the fastest delivery boys in the business.

Relations: Has siblings: One older brother and two sisters, one younger and one older. Both parents have passed away. Pretty well-known at work, with many friends and few enemies.

General Activity: Has a full-time job working for Omnibites. He works four days a week, with weekends and Friday’s off, from five am to four pm. On his day’s off if he’s not just relaxing at home, he’s roaming the streets to maintain his turf… In an online game called “Birthright and Conquest”. More details below.

Abilities:
Driving Skills - Donny’s skill behind the wheels is best, next to none. He has an innate ability to just know how to use most vehicles to it’s best. This allows him to be really good at delivering food while avoiding any accidents, traffics, or even spilling the food.

Highly Coordinated - Donny is pretty good at games. Like really good. Anything that requires reflex or precision, he’s insanely good at. It’s why he’s so good at Birthright and Conquest, as it is a real-time fighting game that requires very sharp reflexes to master.

Pyromancy - Donny has never studied or used magic before, but he’s a latent pyromancer. Currently he knows no actual fire magics, though he’s notably immune to any harm that comes from flames or heat, though he's still vulnerable to suffocating from lack of oxygen or smoke. This allows him to eat super hot and spicy foods with ease, which are his favorite food.

Equipment:

Business Bike - This ramshackled looking bicycle is Donny’s main mode of transportation aside from his own two feet. Made up of various bits and pieces he’s gathered over the years, it’s a very study, high performance bike that can hit up to 50 miles per hour whenever Donny gives it his all.

Butterfly Knife - Donny’s only real weapon. For both utility and self-defense, though Donny himself isn’t really a fighter. His knife was a gift from his uncle, who’s wife is an angel. While made of mortal steel, it has a demon-bane enchantment, allowing even a cut to deliver a lot of pain to a demon.

Omniscience IV - A fancy smartphone Donny uses for his everyday life. With a 20 hour battery life and a cellphone plan that works even if Donny is in hell, he relies on this to survive Loom. Also what he uses to play Birthright and Conquest.

Personality: Will show in IC.

Biography: Donny is, for all intents and purposes, a pretty normal guy. His family moved to Loom after some war broke out in their old country, and Donny grew up around mostly humans. If it wasn’t for the news and the occasional meeting, one would think that Donny grew up in a world without angels, demons, or even magics. As his father was highly distrustful towards magic, no one in his family ever learned to harness it. Donny was always an imaginative kid, and even as a young adult he had a childlike eagerness for all things fantasy and mythical. HIs father hated this part about him, as Donny often indulged in his fantasies like a nerd: playing games, reading books, and generally losing himself in a world of magic instead of his mundane reality.

While Donny was still a teenager, his parents were both struck with cancer. It was inevitable really, due to the way they lived back in their old country. Barely a year passed and they were moved to a facility where they were essentially put onto life support. Despite their differences, neither Donny nor his siblings wanted their parents to pass away. They thought maybe if they used magic, they could save their parents. But their time was done. Two years later, they passed away.

Since then most of the siblings had gone their separate ways. Donny’s older brother works for the government and got married. He’s an accountant and helps manages the finances of one of the local branches. Donny’s little sister attends Master Melody’s Academy for Fine Arts, and is showing to be a very promising Muscian, both magically and musically. Donny’s Older sister is actually the Leader of Human Resource as Omnibites. As for Donny himself, for a while he was nothing more than a vagrant, living in his car while searching for something to do with his life. But without an income, Donny lived that life for only a few months before his sister got him a job at one of the Branch Offices of Omnibites. He’s been working as one of their food couriers, and while his bosses often lament how careless he is and that he tends to be dangerous (As a driver), he’s one of their best couriers in the business.