“ that isn’t real magic. this is real magic.” he throws his hands up and reality seems to change. does everything seem a bit more … shiny? ethereal? something seems off. everything looks the same but there is certainly another feeling lingering in the air. “ … welcome to Purgatory. “
———IT WAS A SENSATION THAT BURIED ITSELF IN THE VERY VERTEBRAE OF THE SPINE. an uncanny feeling, the kind which meant more in the way of disbelief than fear. he looked the other in the eye, his own widened just above the usual stare. purgatory was a belief of catholicism, one which he’d never truly bought into.
❝ i could tell you how little my book tells of the afterlife, but i don’t want to look misinformed? ❞
“So, um- yeah, I’m not actually a boy love. Sorry about that. You just happened across me while I was under the influence of some mischievous bit of magic there. At least I was taller for a good while. Me real name’s Victoria by the way, though you can still call me Brendon if you like.” she shrugged, unsure of how to really handle this awkward situation with the young (relatively) warlock.
———CONFUSION HAD BEEN THE FIRST EMOTION TO GRACE HIS FACE ; the second was a more well rounded shade of the same feeling. at first, the man hadn’t quite recognized her despite the words coming from her mouth. it wasn’t until she’d uttered the name brendondid the tale become something of a peculiarity.
❝ believe me, i’m the last person you ought to be apologizing to for gender related expression. ❞ he almost wanted to laugh, though he felt that would be in bad taste considering she had yet to truly understand the scope of the statement. offering a hand, the german smiled.
❝ victoria, then? i can’t help but notice we keep running into one another. ❞
❛ of course. i trust your judgement over the tourist kiosks. ❜ he stood up and followed close behind him. his gaze meandered as they walked; he had never stayed with elliot. truthfully, he had never stayed in germany long enough where he needed a bed for more than one evening. for him, any trip meant rushing to and from whatever country his boss wanted him to be, with no real time to stop and take everything in.
he peered out one of the windows and visibly perked up when he said “adventure.” it had been many years since he had considered such a thing … ❛ oh ? did you think i’d say no? ❜ he shook his head. ❛ if you do go on one soon, you have to tell me. ❜ he needed an excuse to escape somewhere.
———❝ MIND IF I ASK A PERSONAL QUESTION? it’s only personal because you’re so much older than me. ❞ the man smiled, setting the suitcase on the covered mattress and plopping himself down beside it. green eyes glossed over his palm, the red beneath his skin turning back to his paler shade. he wondered about his body at times, how it continued to beat and drum against an ever changing landscape, despite the unnecessity of an immortal pulse. did whittaker bleed?
❝ when is your birthday? ❞ it would be hard to forget such a day, even with the years the man had lived. he considered his own birthday, a cold day in november, a time when the death of autumn had already run its course but the beauty of winter had not yet painted the landscape white.
❝ … if we can’t have fun today, then i might consider sponsoring an adventure for the future. ❞
“Did you truly believe you could escape DIO, Elliot? I knew you were never too bright, but this is a new low for you.”
The other blonde resembled a deer caught in headlights, and it caused him to lick his lips, his tongue slow and deliberate.
“I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m not dead, hm? By the grace of my dear friend, I was able to recover fully from the fight with Jotaro. It took and embarrassing amount of time to do it, and for a while my body was marred with more scars. I lost the one on my neck, only to get a full body one on my left side. Luckily, that healed and went away, though sometimes I get the illusion of it still on my face.
He chuckled. “Though, enough about me, Elliot, let us address you. You’ve aged since I last saw your faces. You almost look older than I am now!”
———❝ WERE YOU ALWAYS SO LONG WINDED? forgive me if my face does not give away how little i care. ❞ the german bared his teeth, obviously curious about how the man survived, but never expecting an explanation. one thing he hated more than anything was the build up to an undoubtedly painful outcome. he almost wished dio still had the scar so he could have an idea of the pain he went through; how satisfying that would be.
❝ if i thought i could escape you, i would’ve done that instead of join the joestars. ❞ no, he never wanted to run, knowing the man would soon follow. his idea of a night well slept only came after killing the motherfucker who plagued his nightmares.
❝ so, this is it then — you’re going to kill me, i’m assuming? ❞ if the man was here, he’d no doubt go after jotaro and joseph next. somehow, he needed to warn them.
“We’ve got our reasons.” It was obvious Kirill was at the end of his patience, he was gritting his teeth and his nails were digging into his palms, if it weren’t for his boss standing right behind him his hostage would be out cold, but there were other plans.
He took a sharp breath and looked back at one of the men, his accomplice shrugged. “Maybe you should tell us who you’re working for huh. What’s the worst that could happen. We let you go because you’re no threat, or we kill ya’ ‘cause you are. Or maybe we just kill ya’, be done with it and go out have dinner.” He shot a half cocked smile “Hrm, Well? Take your pick.”
———❝ YOU HAVE SUCH A WAY WITH YOUR WORDS. i almost want to test your patience more, my friend. ❞ the man considered his options as carefully as he could in such a predicament. it wasn’t that he intended to die, rather, he wanted to be sure he still had the upper hand in the situation before he spilled the beans.
WHY LEAVE SO SOON—? THE GAME WAS JUST BEGINNING; For the Jester before the Devil was always bound to receive a gracious welcoming into the PITS OF HELL itself. The tall, overwhelming man stood still, as though he was rigormortis itself, as he offered no sanctuary in the realm of death / decay / damnation.
— “Leaving so soon? Is that a twinge of fear I smell in the air? How cowardly, I have yet to do anything just yet—.”
———❝ FUNNY HOW THAT WORKS — a survivor tend to be alive for a reason. ❞ he winces at the implication of intent ; the man before him must have felt he had every right to blood and bloodshed. slow as the drip of a venom laden wound, the man approached his stiffened ‘ friend ’ with a kind of put-on expression.
❝ is it cowardice or courage to live another day? ❞
———IT WASN’T EXACTLY AN APOLOGY HE’D EXPECTED WHEN WAKING. somehow, through blood deprived begging or worse, the german had convinced their little team of crusaders to remain while his injuries healed. though the fear of his previous affiliation with dio seemed to fade for some, others felt it was best to keep an eye on him.
nevertheless, they could not afford to leave their healer in one place, not when it was clear his injuries were only as lasting as his unconscious state. it would be a death sentence.
❝ i told you to give me a forty eight hours before you decide to abandon me on the side of the road. ❞ the blond smirked, lifting in bed as he rubbed the bandages on his raised leg. no normal man could recover from the ordeal he had undergone, yet with a blood transfusion and a days rest, the german seemed uncharacteristically well. almost too well.
gloved hand hovering over the knee, the man pulled at the taut bandages as a low flame began to erupt from the cloth. bit by bit, the flame engulfed his injury in a painful sear of flesh and tissue. he bit down hard as the fire turned from its extreme temperature, to a numbing cold. where he’d destroyed skin, new flesh grew, closing the wounds with a kind of gentleness uncharacteristic of a combat stand. sacred flame had always needed to destroy before it could rebuild, poetic almost if not for the fact it hurt like hell.
❝ help me up, i’m gonna need to do the rest on the go. ❞
tiki was used to this. the men at the laboratory had raised him to be docile, obedient. although he had since escaped from the lab, he still possessed those attributes, even when conversating with a near-perfect stranger such as elliot.
❝ blessed told me that… the young people are infected by sin, ❞ he spoke of her as if the other would know who the nun was. ❝ that the younger people are giving up on religion & faith… she told me it’s a serious issue… and… ❞ just like that, his rambling of faith came to an end. not because he reconsidered his words. they simply ended with no explanation. this was a common flaw of tiki, his brain often stops thinking, only to restart shortly after.
his fingers tapped against the surface of the table, endeavoring to remember what elliot said. ❝ you… weren’t? ❞ he marveled. tiki was the opposite, and he assumed that his powers cannot be replicated… if elliot’s were an didn’t come from another source. ❝ i’ve had them for… as long as i can remember, ❞ he mentioned.
the fingers begin to tap faster, more nervously at the given question. tiki had been witness to monsters, beasts, unspeakable creatures. but none of them has ever scared him–but demons. the thought of demons terrified him.
❝ Yes. ❞
———THERE WAS NO WORD HE COULD UTTER THAT WOULD NOT TEAR OPEN SOMETHING RAW. some time ago, he’d considered atheism. it was a darker time, when the idea of god managed only to feel laughable in the face of what he endured. such as time was past him, and he’d soon rekindled his complicated relationship with religion in general.
still, he wanted nothing more than to separate his choices from his religion. there was nothing corrupt or unholy about the jewish faith, not in the same way he was. to make this distinct connection to the demonic, he chose religion as the bridge between them. nothing more, nothing less.
❝ i was given a choice a very long time ago, and i chose to live. ❞ running a finger under the mouth of his glove, the man waited to check tiki’s reaction before continuing forward.
❝ a demon did that, and more, if you’ll believe it. ❞
body connected into his and the stumble to keep balance; hands shot out to ground both of them . staring down at the man with amusement, although, skepticism was deeply settled . it wasn’t as if it was surprising to come across someone who knows of his face or the deeds he has done; it was the fact that the man was foreign .
❝ you recognize me, tell me, how do you know me ? ❞ pointer finger curling under the german’s chin, tilting it to make eye contact yet there was a tip of danger was apparent .
———THE QUESTION CAME WITH RISK BEYOND HIS OWN SKIN. it was the kind of thing that he wished would not rest on his shoulders, the fate which drove them together. steadying himself, the blond stared momentarily, finding the right words in the foreign tongue.
❝ not here — somewhere private. ❞ the chase, though slowed, still seemed to nip at the heels. he’d taken to italy by orders of the brotherhood, searching for the one who could help him in his quest. the city had its ways of complicating that matter.
Belphegor, still as a lurking cat in his position, stared back at the other’s face shield as if the faint reflection in it did not show his own complexion, but that of the man instead. If the demon had owned a tail to lazily swish from side to side with, the image could have appeared such a natural fit that it would not have raised an ounce of suspicion from unknowing bystanders.
“What a bold assumption.”
He did not think to further evaluate his cryptic answer. Peor had never been one to make many words where they were not necessary, even in his old days. Common conducts such as manners did not interest him. Whatever he did he would do without apology or explanation, and without asking or announcing himself first. Passion was about the only thing capable of loosening his tongue. Passion, and at even fewer times curiousity.
“Why did you kill him?”
———IT WAS THE KIND OF QUESTION THAT GOT STRAIGHT TO THE CORE OF THE ISSUE. the man was never the type to remain cryptic for long. instead, he approached with the kind of fearless grace a dancer would on hot coals. head behind fiberglass and padding, his voice only carried so far.
❝ it was not my intention to steal your prey. ❞ he began, this time much more sincere in his words. his quota was not exactly large when it came to killing, but it still ran the risk of outpacing his abilities. he was picky with his jobs, and the vigilantism only paid so well.
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