#im a humanities researcher who started in medicine this woke something in me

[house-of-laminations]

Tbh we always talk about the more eldritch side of the obey me cast, but yknow what would be nice? Seeing these old grandpas get so shocked at how humans work now.

I don't really think demons have a proper concept of evolution. Maybe its more of a power up? But they certainly don't evolve like how humans would. It'd be funny to see some of them get shocked to learn that we didn't exactly look like this before. Of course some of em may know before, but other demons who just think of humans as food and nothing more would.

Idk its just funny to see a demon having a whole crisis because how tf did we go from that to that?

Anon not only is this hilarious to think about, especially when you consider the differences between human and demon biologies, but it's absolutely insane to imagine these ancient know-it-alls either just forgetting it or like. completely missing humans evolving. kinda like MC: i know as a human i think my species is kinda important but how do you MISS that? Brothers: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ so I wrote that. I hope you dont mind.

no cws, but there's a nod to dialuci, which could also be very easily read as a reckless MC making a joke at Lucifer's expense. 5.5k words again, babes.

Evolutionary Biology 101 with Prof. MC (or: how the demons missed the emergence of Homo sapiens sapiens only for MC to educate them)

Mammon

Mammon was created some time before Cambrian Explosion - though don't ask him what year, no one was keeping track of things like that back then.

The general goings-on of heaven didn't interest him so much, so Lucifer would often give him the more fun, creative projects to occupy his time.

He didn't pay much attention to humans either, not until Beel, Belphie, and Lilith started expressing an interest in them - and by then human development had progressed to the use of tools and currency - completely missing their initial emergence.

"Well this is a waste of time! There's nothin' shiny here at all," complains Mammon.

"You didn't have to come with me," you say, for what feels like the hundredth time.

In hindsight, it probably wasn't the smartest idea ever to bring the Avatar of Greed along with you while you visit the museum. Solomon had wanted you to pick up something from an acquaintance of his, and that acquaintance happened to be one of the research associates tied to the place. Your only saving grace has been the fact this is the Natural History Museum - still full of valuable artifacts, but less immediately obvious or eye catching. You wouldn't know what to do with Mammon in a place like the British Museum.

Or actually. On second thoughts... maybe you should take him there. He'd be right at home.

You leave the demon somewhere in near the entrance with a firm suggestion (though not an order) to stay put. The meeting is short and to the point, and you leave the office with an ancient scroll in hand.

Mammon is not where you left him when you return.

With a sigh, you find yourself a map of museum exhibits, resolving to find him by process of elimination. Maybe he's by some of the valuables displays - early tools, jewelry, and pottery could potentially snag his interest.

Except he's not where you expect him to be at all.

You find Mammon in one of the new exhibits - Roots of Australiana.

"I made that one," he says, pointing. You follow the line his finger makes and you can't help but feel the surge of fond exasperation when your eyes land on the taxidermy creature.

"Are you telling me you made the platypus?"

"Yup, all the handiwork of the Great Mammon!" he says, pride in his voice and the way he puffs out his chest. "Michael hated it but Lucifer loved it."

The affection you feel for this demon is immeasurable. You laugh, grabbing onto his arm and hugging him close, just to see that beautiful red blush take over his features. You don't let yourself be shocked by the fact that apparently Mammon was responsible for the creation of one of the weirdest creatures known to mankind. It makes a startling amount of sense.

You spend the next few hours in just that one exhibit, pointing at different animals and asking about their origins. Mammon doesn't know the answer to all of the questions you ask, but you do get a glimpse into what sort of life he maybe had before the Fall.

"Oh yeah! Jellyfish! Levi wasn't super interested in makin' anything but we all had to contribute something. He got his out of the way real early on too."

"Lucifer says he made the cassowary, but Satan swears up an' down that it was him drivin' at the time."

"Asmo, Beel, an' I worked together on Kangaroos. Or rather - I made kangaroos but Asmo didn't think they were 'cute' enough so he made wallabies. Beel was just a kid back then but he loved 'em so much he wanted to show Belphie and Lilith, so he made Rock-Wallabies. Small enough that he could pick 'em up and carry 'em in his lil' baby hands."

Eventually you get to the end of the exhibit, where there there's a display of recreations of the neolithic pre-human variations of the indigenous peoples. There's even an actual skull just sitting there in the open, beyond the rope boundary. Surprisingly, Mammon has something to say about this too.

"Lucifer, Simeon, an' a few of the other seraphim helped make those. I dunno why it took a bunch of them though considerin' there are none left around today. Too many cooks, I wonder?"

You freeze.

"Mammon," you start, still formulating your thoughts, "do you know what this is?"

He cocks his head, gaze flitting between you and the display. "It's jus' a monkey, isn't it? Not one of the cute ones though."

"No..." you say slowly, only because you yourself are kind of perplexed by this strange gap in his knowledge, "Well. Yes, kind of a monkey. But a monkey that eventually evolved into the human race."

There's a moment of silence as Mammon stares at you.

"You're shittin' me, MC," he finally says.

"I wouldn't lie to you about this," you say, even though you would in any other circumstance. Winding Mammon (or really, any of the brothers) up has become a personal past-time. "That right there is one of the protohumans. Paranthropus boisei if that plaque is to be believed."

Mammon looks so confused and it's hard not to giggle a little at his wide eyes.

But then you see his arm move and -

"Wait, Mammon-"

It's too late. Mammon has already reached inside the exhibit to grab hold of the skull. Alarms start blaring but he ignores it - probably doesn't even register to him. Instead, he's holding up the skull to be level with your own head.

You only just hold back from making an Alas, dear Yorrick joke.

"Nah, I don' see it. Where'd the fangs go? Your teeth so little compared to these chompers." he says, while fiddling with the admittedly ginormous teeth inside the skull.

You pull on his arm to try and get him to drop the skull before anyone sees, but he doesn't budge. "Please, Mammon. I'll tell you if you just put. The skull. Down."

You punctuate each word with more fruitless tugs at his arm, which prompts him to raise it higher to try and get the skull out of your reach. Security has now run into the room, and they're all trying to ask him the same thing - put the skull down and come with them.

Mammon snorts, narrowing his eyes. "Pesky humans," he grumbles, before wrapping his free arm around you.

You're not quite sure what happens next. You think there's a flash of wing, the touch of cool leather, but it's like your brain just doesn't know how to translate what your body is seeing, hearing, and feeling.

When the world starts making sense again, you have to blink a few times to get your eyes adjusted to bright sunlight. You can hear running water, and in front of you a platypus is lounging in the reeds of a small creek.

Mammon is still holding that skull.

"Alright, now that we're alone, you can start explainin' things," he says.

This is just too bizarre. You sigh. So much for getting Solomon's scroll back to him before sundown. Especially now that it seems Mammon has taken you entire continents away.

In for a penny...

"Is listening to me explain evolutionary biology to you really what you want to do now we're alone in the middle of nowhere?"

There's a splashing sound as the skull is thrown into the creek. You can't find it in you to care. Especially not when strong arms wrap around you and everything becomes Mammon.

Leviathan

Leviathan was created some million years before the Triassic era. He grew up at the same time the life in the ocean was starting to grow teeth.

He was the brother to spend the most time on Earth - but not on land. His presence in the deepest depths in the ocean was perhaps one of the reasons for their eventual gargantuan size. And as the creatures grew in response to this threat, Leviathan grew with them.

Really, humans only started being interesting when they learned to tell stories with nuance. His brothers like to joke it was the advent of anime and manga, but really, Levi secretly loved the puppetry of early civilizations too.

But by then, it was too late. He'd spent all that time down in the ocean, only to miss man's precursors crawling from the waves.

You're mentally patting yourself on the back for the absolutely brilliant idea to bring Levi to a human aquarium when he stops suddenly beside you.

It's not the first time that's happened during the day - quite often some scaly creature will attract Levi's attention and he'll be frozen staring at it for a bit. If you didn't know better you'd say he was trying to mentally communicate with the fish. You're happy to listen to his long rants and tangents after about that particular species or maybe a fun story he has about some of his oceanic trips. Normally the shifting blue ambiance of the aquarium lighting makes people look spooky, otherworldy. On Levi, it makes him look alive.

What seems to have stopped him this time is the absolutely enormous jawbone of what the plaque tells you is a Megalodon.

"It was a baby," he sniffs.

You grab onto his hand, pushing down the existential terror that anecdote brings up in you. Whatever this jaw belonged to could swallow you whole without realizing, and that's baby sized?

"There, there. At least it's swimming happily in the fishy afterlife with the rest of its species," you try to console.

"Not all of them," he grumbles sulkily.

That makes you freeze. You're staring up at the fossilized jawbone, contemplating the implications of that comment long enough for Levi to wander off on his own.

"MC," Levi calls to you, though you can't say for sure how much time has passed, "what do they mean by 'all life started in the ocean'?"

Once with Mammon was chance.

Twice with Levi - it can't be coincidence.

Or rather, shouldn't be.

"Exactly what it says," you say rather blithely. You should not have to explain this to beings who were definitely alive back then. "All life, including the reptiles, mammals, and even humans, started off as some variation of sea life."

"Oh, so you have gills? Why didn't you say so MC, I could've taken you taken out to visit Lotan ages ago if I'd known-"

"Levi, I don't have gills," you interrupt. "I have lungs. We've been over this."

He screws up his nose. "Seems like a bit of a downgrade, to me. Think about all the cool things you're missing out on because you don't have gills!"

"Missing?" you ask incredulously, "sure, we're coming back to the giant deep sea life that apparently isn't dead in a sec, but how can you miss all of human evolution?"

He blinks at you slowly.

"It's not like the land creatures were doing anything interesting."

You splutter. "Not doing anything inter- Levi they were evolving into humans. They were fighting and eating each other to distill the dominant species!"

He shrugs.

"Plesiosaurs did that too. If you wanted to see some really vicious fighting, you could always count on the Vampyromorphs."

"I'm sorry the what?"

Levi sighs like you were put on this earth just to test him. In your defense, you kind of were, a little bit. You sling an arm around his shoulders to bring him close. You're in this together, after all.

You don't hide your blush when he confidently puts an arm around your waist in return, hand settling on your hip. He uses it to steer you towards the Squid Tank.

"C'mon MC, your normie side is showing. Vam-pyro-morph. Giant squids with slightly cannibalistic tendencies. Ticklish underneath the tentacles and the teeth," he says, like that explains anything.

Sketched onto the plaque beside the tank is one of the early vampire squid precursors. It's the most terrifying thing you have ever seen.

Speaking of terrifying, that reminds you -

"Levi- hey. Levi, please, what did you mean megalodon aren't extinct-"

Satan & Asmodeus

Asmodeus was created sometime around the late Jurassic era. This was way before the modern variations of the Homo sapiens species, but a few of their precursors were mulling around.

That wasn't to say they were doing anything particularly interesting. Instead, Asmo was more taken with the potential colors of avian feathers. He was trying to campaign for more variation by aggressively making more wild and wonderful plumage.

Satan, perhaps, has the best defense in that he didn't exist as an independent entity until sometime around when humans invented agriculture. He may have had flashes of awareness within Lucifer, but it was very rarely during anything to do with the mortal races.

You, Satan, and Asmo had agreed to study for your next Devildom Law exam together in the House's library. Studying together was normally a thing you and Satan would do anyway, but Asmo had been falling behind somewhat in your last exams, and Lucifer was starting to get snippy about it. You suggested Asmo should join you and Satan, on the basis that the current unit is on human cultural developments, and you can teach by example.

Asmo was especially enthusiastic about that.

Surprisingly, he was a more effective study partner than, say, Mammon. The three of you had been managing to read quietly together for just over an hour. Your hand had drifted unconsciously into Asmo's hair, while Satan let his tail wrap around your ankle.

"I didn't realize humans had multiple forms too!"

Asmo's voice breaks the tranquility of the library, and you look up from your notes. Satan leans over Asmo's shoulder and hums a little in surprise.

You suddenly have a lap full of the Avatar of Lust as Asmo crowds into your space. He's got a book in hand - one on the history and development of human cultures. It's turned to a page on the origins of humanity, and it even contains one of those stereotypical diagrams you'd associate with the progression of evolution - from fish to primate to man.

"What-" you start, but Satan's already latched onto this subject like a cat with its prey.

"It makes sense - your current form is quite dexterous and good for persistance hunting, but it doesn't provide much in terms of raw power," he's saying, and what?

"Though it seems the cranial size and cognitive capacity of your current form is the most advanced - is that to make quick decisions and judgements?"

"You don't have to keep your defenses up with us - surely you know that we'll love you no matter what you look like," Asmo croons, twining your fingers together.

"Don't you trust us, MC?" asks Satan and damn him for being so soft.

"Wait, guys, you don't think..." you start but then trail off. After Mammon and Levi, maybe you shouldn't assume the knowledge of these dumbasses demons.

"Think what, MC?" Satan asks.

You can't help the laugh that escapes you.

"Humans don't have multiple forms, at least that I'm aware of. That's a diagram of human evolution," you explain.

It doesn't seem to clear anything up. They're both still staring at you, waiting.

"Humans didn't always start off with opposable thumbs. In fact, we actually started in the ocean as weak little microbes," you say, wishing you paid more attention in high school bio. "We eventually grew lungs and feet and all the other stuff until we landed on version I am today."

"Oh," says Asmo, and it's actually a bit of a surprise that he's the first of the two to get it.

"Kind of like how Satan started off as a parasitic feeling of righteous anger, then became a ball of miasmic spite before figuring out the whole physical shape thing?"

Or not.

"Hey, I was not a parasite-" Satan scowls but you cut him off before he could get truly worked up.

"No, that's more like human childhood development-" you stop yourself when you see their looks of confusion. Right. Basics. "Anyway. Human evolution happened over millions of years. What you see before you now is the result of thousands of generations combining to produce the most viable, strongest traits for survival."

"Oh!" says Asmo, and not again. "Like dogs!"

You go to refute that too, but then you pause. Technically all the different shapes and sizes dogs come in are the result of generations of selective breeding. Some have survived and some have died off.

"Kind of," you finally settle on.

Satan scowls. "You're not like a dog, MC. You're different to other humans, right?"

You sigh, resolving yourself to an afternoon of explain the theories of evolutionary taxonomy, genetics, and survival of the fittest.

To two of the most powerful beings in existence.

Great. So much for date night.

Beelzebub & Belphegor

Beelzebub and Belphegor (and Lilith) all had a fascination with humans and human cultures.

That doesn't mean they were particularly aware of their origins. After all, they had only been created towards the late Miocene era. They were children as the protohumans were taking their first steps.

To say the twins and Lilith grew up as humanity grew up wouldn't be incorrect. They were somewhat sheltered, though, from the worst of it.

You had promised this would be a quick trip to the university's library. You still have your student access, which grants you document delivery privileges - something both Lucifer and Solomon take advantage of regularly. Normally the library could send you a digital copy of your requested book, chapter, or paper, but in this case you had to go in and pick up a physical copy. Belphie and Beel had offered to accompany you for the trip, and in return you offered to get them a human world lunch - your treat.

However, you weren't banking on encountering one of your more detestable peers. You and he had never gotten along - not even since your undergrad days. He catches sight of you before you could turn and leave, and you were forced into a 'polite' game of catch-up.

The conversation starts and ends with pointed barbs and unwarranted bragging on both sides. Occasionally his eyes will flick towards Beel and Belphie at your back, both impatiently waiting for this to be over like kids waiting for their parent to stop catching up with an old friend in the shopping centre. Unfortunately it all devolves into something just shy of a screaming match when he decides to bring the twins into it, referring to them obliquely - insulting them in that underhanded way that conceited academics fling around their intelligence. There's something frantic about it, though.

He decides to take his leave when you start garnering the attention of other students.

"Right, well, when you're done associating with Neanderthals be sure to give me a call. I need that book once you're done with it."

"I would, but that lead pole stuck up your ass would probably block my call anyway," you sneer as he leaves, determined not to give him the last word.

A strong arm wraps around your waist, stopping you from going after that scholarship stealing prick by keeping you held against Beel's chest.

"I don't get why he made you so mad," grumbles Belphie.

"You mean besides sniping the scholarship and supervisory team I was gunning for during my year away?" you take a deep breath, forcing yourself to calm down. This probably doesn't mean much to them anyway. "He shouldn't have called you that."

"Called us what?" Beel asks, still not letting you go.

You turn in his hold, tilting your head. "He called you Neanderthals. Which is such a childish insu-"

"What's a neanderthal?" asks Belphie, coming up on Beel's other side to lean against you heavily. You're not sure whether it's his inherent laziness or his desire to constantly be close to you, but you appreciate it regardless.

You sigh. By now you've realized that for whatever reason, these ancient entities who predate humanity know nothing about how your species emerged.

You grab both of their hands in your own, tugging at Beel softly to get him to release you. He does, and you walk them towards the display at the entrance of the Anthropology library. There's a large, old diagram in a simple frame that feels incongruous to the ultra-modern aesthetic the rest of the library seems to have.

The picture depicts somewhat of a lineage of human species - with branching taxonomies to show some of the related Homo Sapiens species before your own wiped them out. You point to one of the closest humanoid figures - it's proportions vaguely similar to your own, but the arms and hands are too large, the skull too long.

"That's a neanderthal. They were a possible early prototype of humans," you say, and it's somewhat amusing to see the identical expressions of confusion direct themselves from you to the image.

Beel hums. "I still don't get it. Why did it make you so mad?"

You sigh. "The neanderthals were wiped out by the early Homo sapiens sapiens - my species. Well. Wiped out, bred out, there's still some contention. Supposedly their cognition wasn't advanced as ours, so by using it as an insult, he was calling you stupid, boorish, and outdated."

"I'll show him stupid and boorish," mutters Belphie, his human-looking form flickering slightly around the edges.

And no, as tempting as it is, you probably shouldn't let the demon loose on that human annoyance. You scramble to come up with something to distract Belphie, but all you can really focus on is the flickering.

Hmm.

"Neanderthals weren't the only human-like species people think were wiped out. There's some speculation that humans developed a sense of the uncanny valley because there were other species around that came close to threatening us," you start, tightening your grip on Belphies hand. You re-grab Beel's, now trying to lead them out of the building.

You continue. "Humans have this sense that basically freaks us out when we see something that looks, sounds, and moves like a human, but isn't quite right. It could've also developed as a way to weed out undesirable conditions or illnesses as humanity was evolving."

You can see your words starting to get through to Belphie, and wide eyes blink at you slowly. You can tell Beel is also invested, in the way he's stopped trying to tug you over in the direction of the vending machines.

"But I have another theory."

Belphie is very clearly interested now, but it's Beel who asks "what's your theory?"

"I think that there is another species - one stronger and faster and better at hiding itself - that humans are below in the food chain. All we can do is keep an eye out for them, because we sure as hell aren't going to be able to fight them off."

"I'd fight them for you, MC," says Beel, and he's sweet. But you can also tell that he's realized where you've been leading the conversation.

"What's the point of this all, MC?" asks Belphie and damn it you thought you managed to distract him. His shape is still flickering threateningly.

"I'm talking about demons, Belphie. You guys eat human souls as some kind of tasty snack. Humans can't fight back so we developed an ability to be scared so we could run away. That asshole back there was probably puffing up his feathers because he was terrified of you."

Finally, finally, that seems to appease Belphie. A self-satisfied grin crosses his face, and he leans further into you.

There's a loud growl, breaking the fragile peace. Beel doesn't even bother trying to look embarrassed.

"Yes, we can get food now. C'mere," you say before he can even ask, and begin to drag them anew.

A thrill shoots up your spine when you realize they let you lead them, these apex predators who are designed to consume you.

Lucifer & Diavolo

Unlike his brothers, Lucifer wasn't unobservant throughout prehistoric times. In fact he, Simeon, Michael, and a few other siblings were given the responsibility to push evolution in the right direction.

That final step between Homo Heidelbergensis and Homo Sapiens took its toll on all of them, and so Lucifer gave himself permission to stop giving a fuck about the mortal fleshbags to focus more on his family.

Perhaps this is why he didn't quite have the same curiosity about human culture that his siblings did - it was so much work getting them to that point that all he can think of was the long hours.

Diavolo himself had been born at some point in very early human history but he's always had a fascination with humans and where they came from - compounded when he found out the role Lucifer himself played in their creation.

But that doesn't mean they're both without some gaps in their knowledge (in some very important places)....

"Here, hold this."

This is the only warning you get before the squirming baby is deposited in your arms.

The child belongs to one of your friends from before college - before RAD. Your friend had brought it along for one of your admittedly rare catch-ups because she couldn't find a sitter, sorry! You watch helplessly as she leaves your table to head towards the bathrooms.

You stare at the baby.

It babbles back at you.

"MC?" a familiar voice calls.

You and the baby both look up at the same time with identical dumbfounded expressions.

Approaching your table is two tall figures, both wearing long and expensive looking overcoats. The one in red is grinning sunnily, while his companion in blue is screwing up his nose, making his glasses skew on his face. Diavolo and Lucifer take seats at your table, despite the fact there are plenty of empty places around the cafe.

"Please don't tell me you've picked up a pet, MC," Lucifer says with distaste, "Despite what you may hope, it won't teach my brothers responsibility."

One day you will teach this demon manners. This is not the way to greet someone you run into while they're on holiday.

"It's a baby," you say slowly, dragging out the syllables.

"Ooh a baby what?" Diavolo asks, and surely not.

"Something that's easier to train while young, I would hope?" Lucifer asks.

Well. Yes, but...

You squint at him. He stares back impassively, though you do notice the confusion in the way his eyebrows cock unevenly.

"A human baby!" you say incredulously.

Sure, your time in the Devildom was fraught with cultural misunderstandings, but come on. These are two of the most powerful beings in existence. Lucifer has been around since the beginning of time itself.

Diavolo pushes his face in close to the baby, and then you have to rear back as he turns to study you just as intently. Normally you wouldn't mind, but now is not the time or the place.

"It's so small, and squishy," he says.

"It's the weaker version of a human," Lucifer says, though he doesn't look as confident as his tone would have you believe him to be, "it likely needs more time to coalesce more energy."

"Guys," you say with exasperation, "it's a baby. It grows. Physically! And hopefully: mentally and emotionally. It doesn't shapeshift. It doesn't 'coalesce energy'. It just ages."

They're looking at you doubtfully. You really don't think it's that hard to grasp.

"Besides," you add, "this technically isn't even a human's weakest form."

"They get smaller?" Lucifer asks.

It's the first time you've seen him so freaked out.

"How?" Diavolo asks and no you are not going to explain this to him-

"I'm sorry - who are you?"

Sweet, saving grace. Maybe there really is a god looking down on you.

Your friend has returned. She looks apprehensive, though that may have something to do with the rather large, intimidating, obviously rich men huddling around you and her baby. Oh, right.

Your mind scrambles to come up with a good excuse.

"Oh! This is Luci...us," you start, and immediately panic when you realize you were about to use Lucifer's actual name. The demon in question shoots you a glare, but at this point in your relationship you've become immune.

"And this uh..."

Friend? Boss?

Actually. Fuck it. Time for revenge for almost forcing you to explain the birds and the bees to him. And all the other shit you've been through since waking up in the Devildom.

"This is his husband, Dia. They run the exchange program I told you about - the one I spent a year away for. They're actually thinking of adopting at the moment."

Immediately your friend's face brightens. "Oh?" she asks, "what age were you thinking?"

"Actually-" Lucifer starts, but you're not going to let him derail your Evil Plan™.

"Around the same age as yours," you interrupt.

This lights a fire in your friend's eyes, and immediately she starts her whole tirade anew about the lack of sleep and the burping and all the messes and the lack of sleep and the wonders of small humans forming their own consciousness and opinions and the lack of sleep and- well. Basically everything you had been unwittingly subjected to before you were interrupted by the demons.

Diavolo takes all the unwanted and unwarranted information with an enthusiasm that definitely helps play into the fiction you've set up. Beside him, Lucifer is smiling pleasantly, but when his gaze drifts to you and you meet his eyes -

v̴̥͠ȩ̶̃r̶̟̒t̵͚̍i̵͂ͅg̶̱̏o̶̤͠. you're at the edge of a precipice and you're not going to fall. you're i̷̳͝n̸̦̽s̴͔͐i̶͔͠g̴͉̏n̶̯̏i̵̮͑f̷̻̐ȉ̴̩c̴̛̞a̴̛͇n̴̜͠t̶̩́. it would be so easy to be crushed by this abyss-

you smile back just as congenially. Really. You'd think he'd remember that none of his glares work on you anymore. The baby in your arms squirms and holds its own pudgy little arms up towards the Avatar.

Huh. Interesting. That glare of his doesn't work on the kid either.

You're still forced to sit there politely while your friend rambles on about the wonders of human development and the joys of being a parent for another two hours. It's definitely worth it though - the picture of a small, red, wiggly baby being held at arm's length by the Avatar of Pride is one that will live in your memory for lifetimes to come.

Barbatos

Barbatos doesn't quite know when to attribute his creation to. It's never really mattered.

He wandered the Earth before the Fall, before humans. He watched that first creature crawl itself out of the mud. He watched as it crawled and stood and spoke.

He kept a close eye on this species - especially as they began to show intelligence. They created their own laws and measurements and perceptions of Time, which was cute, if a bit misguided.

In some of the early days, he let some of his true nature slip too close to the surface, and in return he was granted offerings of livestock and. Well. Live humans. Young ones. Too young.

There's warmth somewhere near your cheek as a cup of tea is placed down delicately beside where you had been resting on top of your assignments. You snort and a shiver goes through you as consciousness slowly filters back in.

At least there are worst ways to wake than with Barbatos' soft smile to greet you.

"Thank you," he says.

"For what?" you ask. You're still trying to wake up, and one of your sticky notes frees itself from your face and floats back down to the table you were napping working at. Admittedly, the smell of Barbatos' tea is doing wonders.

"For seeing to the education of my Master and his Lords. It wouldn't do for the future King of Hell and his council to be so ignorant in regards to their human subjects."

No way.

"You set me up," you hiss.

A gloved hand comes down on top of your head, and you put up a small token effort of resistance for a moment but no one can truly hold out against such soft head scratches.

"Perhaps," Barbatos says, and you're immediately reminded of why you associate him with snakes. "But it was a learning experience of your own, was it not?"

Thanks for the ask, Anon! 💛 I hope you don't mind the mess that spawned from it...

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[ohgoddard]

Those Loyal Dogs.2.

Carmichael slept soundly in his bed, only happy thoughts floating about his head. His numerous cuts and bruises that usually swelled and caused him discomfort decided to take a break this night, providing him with some much needed sleep. And though his thoughts were majority happy, the weight of what he knew slumped mightily in his mind. Almost enough to tear him from his soft satin sheets and try and solve the unsolvable conundrum in his mind, or otherwise try and speed up the over moving constant speed of time. For what he had learned has kept him up for countless nights already. Truth be told, he would not be awake now if not for the pills Jin had put in his food and recently heat-dried sheets that his first-mate Cerri had just laid out. 

Carmichael knew that the crew was getting worried at his countless nights awake, staring into the burnt and barely legible journal that the old orc they found floating in the wastes clutched in his hands. He barely found a moment’s respite away from it, often calling out his name. The Orc himself, the figure that Carmichael believed to be his dad, has been very quiet and not awake for more than a few hours at a time. They always mumbled one thing or another about a gnome and some human, a snake person, worms, a cathedral, and an angel. But mostly he stared into the wall, hollow eyes brought by terror and fear. Carmichael wanted to be down there every minute, but he knew it was not the right thing. The poor orc was torn from death’s grasp, so obviously there would be a period of time until they would be able to speak like  a normal person. Like his dad. However, his natural instincts fought against his ever growing anxiety and fear that would have caused him to leap to the bedside or journal, and kept him strapped into his bed. He slumbered for the first time in weeks.

Cerri threw open his door with such velocity that, if people bursting into his room not been a common thing and he had gotten a much sturdier door, would have shattered the hinges.

“SIR!” she shouted, finally stirring the captain from his sleep. The half-orc woke with a start, his baggy eyes fuzzily coming into focus on his dark-elf first-mate. After being awoken in such a harsh manner, his analytical mind took over and her scanned the whole area while reaching for the sword behind his bed.

His room was still the same, he was still on his normal bed. His desk was untouched, he saw no ship outside his window… His eyes went to Cerri. She was dressed as nice as ever. Rough brown pants, fluffy white shirt with a simple red coat she stole from a Royal Naval Marine. Her silvery hair was tied into a long but comfortable pony-tail thrown over her shoulder, with her red eyes looking at him confused. Her mouth was moving, maybe she was saying something?

I always forget how nice she looks.

“Captain?! Hello?!” she shouted, shaking Carmichael from his stupor. He shook his head, trying to orient himself. “Ah! Yes, sorry. Got a bit-” “Were you checking me out again?” Her eyebrows raised a bit, as if not fully sure of what she said herself. Carmichael stood from his bed, still fully dressed from when he went to sleep. “What? No. Never. I would never.”  His stammering was all that she needed to reaffirm her suspicions. Cerri’s confused look was replaced with one of playful teasing. “You dog, you so were! Why, that is so unbecoming of a great captain as yourself!” She crossed her arms over her chest, speaking in a teasing manner. As Carmichael hurriedly put his own coat on, doing his best to hide his face from her.  “Really though sir, I cannot blame you. I am quite the drow.” A small giggle escaped her as the sentence closed.“We can talk about my manners later, Cerri. What was it so important you had to run in here and wake me up?” She is observant, but never to the matters at hand. So what if I looked at her for a really long time and forgot why she came in here? I do that to everyone. I think.

Cerri snapped into the worried attention she stormed into the room with, suddenly remembering her excuse for invading wildly into her favorite captain’s room. “AH! Yes, um. Drokgar just got back from his trip from one of the worlds. He just got back in through the portal with the target. And well, the target is not pleased. You are needed in the hull where the target is...now. Drokgar is in the med bay.” Carmichael spun on his heels. “DROKGAR IS WHERE?!” Cerri sidestepped out the door way, barely seconds before Carmichael ran through it. The gust of wind that followed nearly knocked her on her butt, but she held on to the door frame as she saw the captain run down the hallways of sleeping sailors in hammocks and down the stairs.

“What’s gotten into him?” Cerri heard Jin’s voice before she saw him, walking just into view holding a small mug with a dark black substance. As Cerri moved out of the doorway and into the hall, closing the door behind her, she took the mug right out of Jin’s hands and downed the whole thing. Jin looked on in amazement. After she swallowed she looked in amazement at Jin herself. “Jin, its not even 8 a.m. What in the divines name are you doing drinking stout?!” The poor AI just kinda looked on in awe still, as he was surprised the dark elf was still standing before him. “That.. had an alcohol per volume amount of 15%! How are you standing?! It was to my knowledge very few organics could even-”

 “Jin,” she cut him off ,”why were you drinking hard liquor this early?” 

“I was bringing it to the captain, its his usual wake up drink for the past few weeks.”

Cerri sighed deeply, dragging a face-palm. “From now on, bring him water. Only, water. If he has a problem, tell him its on my orders.” Jin nodded before walking off down a separate hallway, presumably the cantina. Cerri herself began to walk down the hull, they were going to need all the help they could get until the captain got back from the med bay. I swear, she thought to herself, if he doesn’t take it easy on this it’s going to kill him. He needs to remember we are a pirate crew. We work for money. Who cares if a few realities die? There are actually infinite. What about us? His crew? Jin?....Me? She pushed those thoughts away for now. He always has us in his mind. He cares. But this..its dangerous. He doesn’t know what hes up against.

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Carmichael made it to the med bay, an informal term given to a few beds in a spare room where they just so happen to keep all the medicine they find. Most sailors just drink and bandage themselves, lying in their hammocks after a particularly tough raid. They really only come here when they're sick, which isn't often on the weird vitamin filled meals Jin cooks for everyone. Right now though, it was empty save for the Captain and the lead physician. It is worth noting that the lead physician, Drokgar, was lying on one of the beds with the largest pile of ice over his right eye.

“Aye told ye before ‘n I’ll tell ye again, I’m fine Carmichael!” Drokgar looked evry roughed up, so it was easy to discount this. His glasses were broken, his clothes torn, and blood was dripping down from the cut on the huge lump above his eye. “You do not look fine, Drokgar. What on the divines purple skies did this to you?!” The gnome sighed before his captain, and leaned back into the small pile of pillows he had collected behind him. “Not a what, Captain. A ‘who’. The man ye told me to go nab, another one of your ‘not fathers’. He did not take kindly to me taking him away from the people he was traveling with. A gnome, some angel. A drow.”

At the mention of these part members, Carmichael connected them to the mumblings of the other orc they had picked up, the one the crew has been jokingly referred to as “The Professor” for his tweed pants. Could there be a connection?

“Yup,” Drokgar continued, “he put up quite the fight before I managed to put the clamp on him and through ‘em through the tear. He got one hit on me, and Carmichael it was just a graze. Cuz if it was a real hit i’d be dead!” The gnome laughed heartily after this, before turning into a rough cough and stopping. “Oh gods, yeah he did also kick me with a lil peg leg of his and it got me in me ribs. Gonna be a bit ‘o rest fore I can be on my duties again. Im gonna take the next ‘extraction’ mission out.  I mean I loved the research and all, the looking up of people via memories and messin with them, but i’m a tad bit past my adventurin days. Maybe send Cerri, she’s been beggin to go out. Maybe Lionel, eh? He’s a newbie but-”

Carmichael cut him off by quickly leaning in and hugging him. The gnome let out a little gasp of surprise and slight pain before slowly hugging the half-orc back. “I’m just glad you're back.”

 “Ah, don’t you worry son. Gonna take a lot more than one unruly and crotchety orc to get me! Hell, when he calms down I bet he and I will be good friends!”

Carmichael made sure Drokgar was nice and comfortable before leaving, blowing out the lantern on his way out. He’s right. I don’t know why I thought I could just take people, especially people like my dad, by force and then send a gnome. An old gnome at that. Good thing he’s a quick guy. I thought he could at least talk to him, but that must not have worked.

These thoughts kept in his head, alongside the comments of the gnome and the angel. It could be that these are the same that the ‘The Professor’ mentioned in his murmurings? Perhaps next time he is awake he can talk to him about them.  Such thoughts were immediately thrown out of Carmichael’s head when he felt the shaking down the hall. An inconsistent shaking, one that shook the entire floor. And it was a loud, slamming noise. And the shouting did not make this noise any less worrying. 

“WE NEED MORE ROPE!!” “WHERE’S THE RUNES?!” “SOMEONE GET THE CAPTAIN!”

“CERRI HOLD THE-” Another loud smash, the sound of metal on metal. Carmichael ran down the hallway, turning the corner into the brig. The room, usually looking like nothing more than a wooden jail cell with iron bars, now had a sole occupant of a large steel box. Said steel box had about seven people around it, hastily attempting to tie it down via chains and ropes. Among them was Cerri, who ducked at the last second to avoid a dent that suddenly formed in the box.

The box was covered in these dents, huge divots in steel that stretched the tension of its strength. It looks like it was covered in huge spikes, the number of these divots being in the dozens. Another loud crash and the captain saw another huge divot shootout from the metal box. It took the shape of the huge fist that caused it, and it was accompanied by an angry yell.

“WHERE AM I?! WHERE IS THAT DAMN GNOME?! WHERE ARE MY DEPUTIES?!”

Carmichael stood there before the towering steel box, now recognizing that these are all [i] fistmarks. “Jesus christ, just what kinda person did Drokgar bring back?!” A sailor yelled out as a steel fist collided with his face, sending him flying into the wooden walls behind him. Cerri lept back at the last second to avoid the same fate. “FALL BACK!” she yelled to the remaining sailors by the box. She turned her head to see the captain had arrived and flashed a smile of relief. “Thank the divines you’re here! We couldn’t hold him any longer, I think he broke the band Drokgar put on him.” The box shook again, more divots coming out. Carmichael drew his sword, the enchanted rapier known as Giant’s Needle. “Sailors!” he yelled, “retreat behind me and Cerri! Be prepared to give the alarm!” He did not need to tell them twice, the men and women quickly retreating behind their Captain and First Mate. 

Their retreat could not be better timed, as this time the punch wen through the box. A huge green fist punctured the steel enclosure, peeling like paper. Soon another fist came right behind it, and Carmichael could see into the darkness a pair of yellow eyes staring out. The hands retracted, and began to tear the box apart, opening it up like a wrestler on stage. Stepping through the huge hole, stood a towering orc. Carmichael went into analytical mode.

He noticed the orc was shorter and smaller than he expected. The memories that Drokgar showed him revealed a general that could kill multiple demigods with a single hook. This could be said general, but many many years past their prime. He noticed the missing leg, replaced with a crude make-shift prosthetic made out of pipes and gun springs. The orc’s white and grey hair confirmed the old age, but everything else went away from that theory. He was still massive. His biceps, while not like a young orc, were still bigger than Carmichael’s head. And the orc was angry. 

He lowered himself into a boxing-style fight stance, glowering at the dark elf and half-orc in front of him. “You have one minute to tell me where I am, and where my deputies are. Or else I will bear down on you the entirety of my strength and lawful ability.”  A sailor, brave or stupid, came running out from behind the Captain. Carmichael was too slow in stopping him, the sailor too quick and their clubbed weapon drawn. It wasn’t even a laughable ‘fair’ fight. The orc sent a quick jab into the sailor’s stomach, them falling to the floor.  Carmichael didn’t even see his fist move. This must have been a surprise to the orc too, as he glanced at his own fist in shock for a short while. But if anything this made him bolder. He readied his stance again.

“I am going to ask one more time. What did you do with my deputies?” Carmichael raised his sword. He was not looking forward to this fight. “We have not touched them,” he began to say, his eyes darting to the gold star resting on the orc’s shirt,“ Mr.Sheriff. We have only taken you. And it was for a good reason too.” The orc began to growl.

“You better give it quick. I owe them my life, multiple times over. I will not let you kill me until I repay my gnome friend.”

But just as he was about to open his mouth, Carmichael was distracted by another lumbering noise. The orc noticed this too, as his eyes followed the Captain’s. Walking down the hallway, perhaps awoken by the noise, was The Professor. His hair was still messed up. His glasses crooked on his face, and he was wrapped in a blanket. To everyone’s surprise, he was moving. And it was this shock that allowed him to enter the big, unopposed. So now, standing in the brig in front of the Captain and a first mate who left to go yell at the fool who let The Professor out of bed, were two orcs.

Who looked exactly the same.

“Did”, The Professor spoke in his deep voice, raspy from disuse, “you mention a gnome?”

The Sheriff eyed up the disheveled academic man before him, noting that he was much bigger than he. “Yes, so what?”

“Did you know a gnome named Kevi?” The Sheriff became still. Unmoving.

“Yes..I did.” The Professor looked on the other orc with a blank look, but his soft blue eyes began to come into focus a bit more. “And a snake named Asmodeus? And a human named Samuel? An angel named Kazfiel?” The Sheriff dropped his guard entirely. His arms fell to his side, as he looked into the face of himself.

“I..I did. Yes.”

The Professor looked into the eyes of himself too, then let his blanket drop to the floor. He leaned forward and hugged himself. “Please tell me...please tell me they are ok. I started all of this. Everything… Please tell me I did not kill him. Please..”

And the Sheriff, shocked at the sudden embracement, just stood there for a minute. The soft sobs of The Professor made the only noise. Carmichael watched on with intense focus, not feeling the tears welling in his eyes. The other orc gently put his arms around The Professor, and held him closely. “Yeah.. you didn’t kill them. You didn’t kill them. It’s not your fault.”

The other orc looked up from The Professor, at Carmichael in the doorway.

“Are they safe?” Carmichael nodded.

“Buddy, you and I need to have a talk after this. For now, call me Hiram. I need to catch my friend here up on a lot of things.”