@lavulmanThe bird watched with it's beady little eyes while Akira readied herself, it's mood difficult to read now that it had stopped squawking. When Akira beckoned Madi forward, the bird lowered it's raised talon and let out a short scream, waddling over to the door in a brooding manor. When it neared Paxton, and was almost out the door, Madi let out a low growl that sounded more like a dog than a bird. This immediately drew Paxton's attention, his lips twisting into a scowl as if offended by the noise. Before he could react any further however, Madi had leapt into the air and jetted out the door towards the stairwell.
"Have fun," Paxton called out just as Akira shut the door, the bitterness still in his tone despite him trying to shrug it off. After that, the apartment seemed to fall into silence; the distant fluttering of Madi's wings indicating she'd reached the ground floor and was only waiting to be let outside. As soon as Akira walked out into the night, Madi fluttered after her and very tentatively tried landing on the demon's shoulder. The imp weighed practically nothing, and unlike how she tried digging her talons into Paxton's shoulder she seemed to be taking care not to rip the textile surface of the jacket.
Though the bird remained silent for a little while upon being questioned by Akira, eventually it lifted it's head and croaked a short, "no..." This was a followed by a few short bursts of awkward grunting and low snarls; nonsense to most but to demons it was fragment but understandable conversation.
"No mad... Pax- Pax idiot. Summoning... no like summon figure-eight. Ass. Figure-eight is ass."Madi finished her thoughts with a final snort, seeming calmer than before but no less cheerful- not that cheerful was a norm for her.
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Paxton licked his fingers, the chalk dust on his hands dissolving as he wet the tips of his digits. Carefully he brought his hand back down towards the floor, and gently smudged away a few inconsistencies in some of the shapes he'd drawn. The number of little runes totaled nineteen once he was finished, each one spaced away from the others and separated by the two large shapes dominating the center of the salt circle: a crooked star, and a spiral with a figure-eight twisted into the center.
"Thank you, Akira," Paxton breathed, shutting his eyes for a moment and smiling when he didn't hear the flutter of wings or a horrid screech. He only had time to appreciate the silence for a moment though, and felt he should get things over with before Akira eventually decided to come back to the apartment. Slowly Paxton stood, looking down at his handiwork before carefully stepping over the circle of salt on the ground. It took up about the same space as a dinning table, a considerable portion of the room due to it's size, and would be big enough to lay down in should one try.
This was sort of the intent though, and Paxton put away his chalk and salt so that he could turn his attention to the body still leaning up against the wall. With a short huff of preparation, Paxton knelt down and bunched up as much of the corpse's clothing as he could to make two handholds. Slowly he lifted himself to stand, raising the body off the floor and lifting it high enough that it's limbs wouldn't drag on the ground. Blood dripped from the stump that had once been a hand, creating a tiny trail along the ground as Paxton heaved the body over the ring of salt and down onto the ground inside it. After the body was on the floor, Paxton peeled open both it's eyes and began shifting the body so that it's feet were inline with the furthest point of the star. This left most of the spiral, and the figure-eight, covered by the body itself, and with those final adjustments done Paxton leapt out of the salt circle and rushed towards the coffee table where he'd left his jacket. In it's pockets he found his father's codex, the old, purple leather-bound book warm to the touch. With the book in hand, Paxton rushed back towards the circle, stopping at it's edge and opening the codex to flip through it's pages. The papers were old but well taken care of, a multitude of foreign languages filling the pages; most human, some not. Here and there the pages were scrawling with edits made in pen, clashing with the timeworn ink and overpowering whatever it had once said. It was a page like this that Paxton sought, one that detailed the ritual he'd just placed out before him but in a much simpler context. The pages had no mention of the use of a corpse though, nor did they detail the 19 extra runes Paxton had drawn. It was by choice not to make those edits and put them into the book; they were safer in his memory. The words of summons however would not survive in Paxton's mind, and instead were written in pen at the bottom of the page.
"Tempus Bibitor, attingit per spatium vacuum vicissimque scabunt. Invoco te virum finxit temporis!" Paxton spoke, each word beginning to resonate with the next as if each carried a tremendous weight. With the final syllable his voice had grown to a shout, and the final weight had been dropped causing something in the air to snap. From upstairs someone began stomping, demanding silence which Paxton ignored. He need not speak anymore however, the crackle of energy in the air jolting erratically as the chalk on the floor began to glow a soft red in colour. The ring of salt lit aflame, smoke blowing inwards towards the corpse at the center of the circle. Soft tendrils of vapour passed over the cold, dead flesh, wafting over the body and caressing each soft curve and edge. Then all at once the corpse seized up, and the smoke was sucked into it's now gaping mouth. The body began to spasm, like someone were trying to bring it back to life with a car battery, but it only took a moment to see this was not the case. The corpse had begun to age, slowly at first but soon at an alarming rate. Years of potential that had been cut short flashed before Paxton's eyes until eventually the corpse grew thin and withered. Flesh turned to dust and bones crumbled soon after, the thin grey powder beginning to rise into the air and swirl around the spiral drawn into the ground. The dust began to congeal, a humanoid form being outlined by the small but contained vortex within the summoning circle. Limbs became more recognizable, a body was soon visible, and slowly the dust put itself back together to create a new body. Now solid, the body dropped towards the floor and caught itself on one knee, unmoving and silent with it's ash grey head bowed low. Overhead the lights flickered in and out for a moment as the air began to settle, and the strange energy in the air dissipated as if it were never there.
"Hey, Tim," Paxton muttered, pushing his foot forward and breaking the circle of salt.
"Long time, Gerelade," the ashen figure breathed, still seemingly frozen in place but now with it's lips curled into a smile.
