The subtle shimmer of the evening air a few paces away from Nestor announces the appearance of a shade gate; turning toward the unexpected disturbance, the Demonspawn releases a soft breath of seeming relief as his butler emerges from the shadows just beyond the edge of the portal – precisely dressed, as usual, and perhaps looking more at home behind a crisp nameplate arranged around some conference table than amidst the diverse crew gathered that night – the Vampire takes scarcely a moment to sweep his eyes over the assembly, gaze only settling for any length of time upon Isis – for whom he pronounces beneath his breath nothing more than “Hmm.... interesting...” And then turning to wordlessly extend a bulging duffle-bag toward Nestor, remarking as he does so:

“As you requested, Sir. I see you found some more suitable clothes. Hope you haven't been making a spectacle of yourself...”

“No more than usual, Ned” I reach out and accept the comforting weight of the bag, sling it over my should before offering in response: “But you are just in the nick of time; many thanks – consider yourself on Holiday until I've need again.”

The vampire offers a quirk of his lips at this, quipping dryly in response: “The last time you said that, Sir, I recall evading the better half of New York's police force in a mad dash to save you from an unplanned visit to the hospital” Leaving no space of time for a reply, Ned offers a respectful inclination of his head before stepping backward and slipping through the gate mere seconds before it blinks out of existence.

“Oh-ho! And how do you like that, Nestor? Getting a bit uppity with you, don't you think?” Comes the frozen tone of a snide comment just behind his departure. The Demonspawn simply gives a light shrug, adjusting the strap on his shoulder and muttering as he plods to take his place before the awaiting Goddess.

“About time the poor fellow grew a personality, don't you think; only took him – oh, what now? The better part of a century?”