#on one hand: demon crap demon crap everywhere. on the other hand: fought a huge fuck-off dragon at the end of it . life is a balance

[vaguely-concerned]

I just replayed jaws of hakkon again and the avvar still fucking rule honestly haha. listening to all these chantry-educated people (listen I love you all but you are being so RUDE I can't take you anywhere!!!!) lose their goddamn minds over how they treat magic while the avvar side eye them like '...okay weirdos' never fails to bring me joy.

BUT also since the avvar take a bunch of inspiration from scandinavian culture, I thought I'd put on my friendly neighbourhood norwegian hat and muse about some of them!

- most people probably know this by now, but 'storvacker' means literally 'big beautiful' with swedish spelling haha. (with kind of an implication that it's beautiful because it's big, or that the bigness is integral to the beauty? it's really quite sweet as a name)

- hakkon seems to be a riff on håkon/haakon (listen I don't have time to explain all the tedious langague history right now but let's say for short that the pronounciation is the same either way and from a norwegian pov it has a lot to do with being under danish rule for a couple of hundred years there) which is a very common name for scandinavian kings through the ages. and yes a bunch of them did love them some war so it's not a bad choice at all! the current norwegian crown prince is named haakon (and his dad is harald, which is one of the other most common name for kings. there's also a 'sverre magnus' in the family now, so between them they hit about 75% of all norwegian kings through the ages lmao)

- avvar poetry works somewhat along the lines of traditional norse poetry, being heavy on the alliteration and kennings and heiti (essentially turning perfectly normal words into metaphors and shit, calling a boat a 'wave-steed' would be an example, often to ensure the alliteration haha. one of the reasons odin has so many fucking names, you can find a way to alliterate that dude with just about anything through pseudonym.)

- more on names because it's h i l a r i o u s to me for some reason-- the fisherman dude you meet on the shore and who would otherwise be perfectly forgettable? well, his name is arvid rolfsen. having a character named 'arvid rolfsen' in a fantasy universe is like... that's just a normal man. like 'that's the name of my denist' level of just some guy. dragon age often does the fantasy name balancing by having at least either the first name or surname be kind of unusual/fantasy-ized, but those are simply two incredibly common names hahaha.

avvar names ending in '-sen' and '-dotten' is a very obvious parallel to how scandinavian surnames traditionally work (and still do in iceland), in that it's 'parent's name' + sen/son (son) or dotter/dottir (daughter). however. in changing the female ending of that to 'dotten'. some Things have happened, to my norwegian ear. namely that 'dott' (which turns into 'dotten' in the definite singular form, the dott as it were) means... hm.

1) most literally, something like a small untidy ball or clump of something, like hay, dust, wool -- my instinctive translation would be something like 'fluffball', probably.

2) a useless weakwilled hapless and naive but ultimately harmless person

3) slang term (though a mild one) for the vagina. yup it's another one of those, as if boba 'fett' didn't already fill that particular cross-language hilarity niche (though that one is a whole league more obscene and technically dialect). especially 'kuldsdotten swamp' (so something like... the cold ahem ahem swamp) conjures... Imagery.

[crystalrose555]

Don’t make me slap you pt. 10

In the darkness, she could hear a voice calling out for help. Was it from one of the little ones back at home? No, it was someone else, calling out in the darkness for freedom. Mochi reached out, hoping to reach that lonely voice but a bright light enveloped her, only exposing a figure’s shadow. It was so close that she could touch it, she felt the soft warmth against her hands. And then she heard its voice.

“Oh my, aren’t you bold?”

Mochi’s eyes snapped open upon hearing the sound of knocking. She jumped up from the tub and could see the handle switching back and forth. Rushing over to the beanbag chair, she unzipped it and ripped her pelt from within it. In a fraction of a second, the door opened to a curiously smiling Asmodeus who looked around the room. The sound of his footsteps filled the room along with the sound of wheels.

“Mooochiii, are you in here?” He asked as he walked around the tub, discovering the startled seal.

“Aww, Mochi, here you are! I figured you would be here!”

Mochi snorted softly at the happy Asmo. He wasn’t on the top of her list when it came to the brothers he was on the same level as Mammon and Beel. Even though they haven’t made any attempt to harm her, it still left a bad impression on her. However, he refused to take a hint and leave her alone, and since Lucifer gave her a warning about not biting anyone she was forced to just run away from him. Anyhow, she was now cornered in Levi’s room as he crouched down to her level, so she balled up out of annoyance.

“Come on, Mochi, don’t you want to spend time with me?” He asked with a pout.

Mochi just snorted at him and gave her side two slaps. What she wanted was to go back to her nap and then finished the homework given to her.

“Don’t be like that, I’ve been trying to melt the ice with you for weeks and you’re still so cold to me.” Snort. “Come now, let’s have some bonding time. I even got you a present.” Mochi turned her head away from him but her attention was grabbed by the object Asmo revealed. There in front of her was a decent sized wooden wagon painted in soft pastel colors with ribbons and flowers decorating the outside while a purple cushion filled the inside. Her confusion was interrupted by a very excited Asmo.

“Isn’t it pretty? I know how hard Lucifer has been pushing you and I know you’re pretty tired of sliding around everywhere, so I decided to make you a carriage fit for a princess. Go on, tell me how much you love it.” Mochi looked up at the waiting Asmo and turned back to the colorful wagon. She never suspected him to put this much effort into something for her. He never seemed too keen on any type of labor but she guessed he just bought the wagon and did the decorations himself. However, she didn’t have time to think as he casually lifted her off the ground. Mochi was so shocked that she remained stiff in his hands as he lifted her to his chest.

“What the hell?” She thought, never expecting him to be able to pick her up. “You’re so cute and squishy, Mochi. You’re just like a stuffed animal. And you don’t stink at all, I’m surprised~” He chimed as he hugged her to him as if she was an oversized carnival prize. Before she could start growling at him, he placed her on the plush cushion in the wagon. She looked at him and could see him smiling with his phone in his hands. He crouched down next to her and took a pose with his arm stretched out. 

“Now stay still, Mochi.” She snorted, realizing that Asmodeus just wanted a picture for his Devilgram. She rolled her eyes and looked away as the sound of the camera clicked.

“Aww, you moved sweetie. Don’t worry, we have more places that serve as a better background than Levi’s stuffy room.” And with that, Asmo began to pull the wagon behind him and out of Levi’s room. Mochi tried to jump out but found herself stuck in place. She looked around in a panic only for Asmo to answer her question.

“Don’t worry, honey. I put a hex on the wagon so you don’t fall off and hurt yourself. See how considerate I am?” Mochi sighed as she realized that she was trapped with Asmodeus for the time being. He faithfully guided her all over the House of Lamentation while snapping photos of the two of them with different filters and stickers. She would rather not have her picture taken but it was best just to indulge him so he would grow bored of her. After a while, he led her to the kitchen claiming he had another gift for her. She watched as he dug deep in the cupboard and pulled out a bag of jerky.

“Tada, I got you some yummy treats. Void tuna jerky made with teriyaki sauce~”

He then put on a pair of gloves and opened the bag of jerky and offered her a piece. He looked so enthusiastic about feeding her, Mochi gave in and grabbed it from his hand. She chewed and scarfed it down as the salty-sweet taste coated her tongue.

“Holy crap, this is good!” She internally praised as she took another piece.

Asmo nearly squealed upon seeing her being so passive towards him. He patted himself on the back for planning the perfect bonding day with Mochi and he did it without charming her. Now, Mammon would have to quit teasing him on the fact that she hated him too. Holding the bag in one hand and pulling her around with the other, he took her to his room and then to his private bathroom. Mochi’s eyes grew wide at the glorious bathroom with its many mirrors and pillars that surrounded a huge bath. She barely noticed Asmo tying his hair back and rolling up his sleeves and pants as he grabbed a few bottles. 

“Now for the final surprise, a nice bath in my tub with the best animal shampoos and after that a photoshoot of me dressing you up~” Mochi growled at him as he held two mysterious bottles. She refused to be cleaned by demonic pet cleaners that could ruin the texture of her fur. Sure she was a seal but her pelt worked better with natural human products and her biggest fear was going bald from the bad combination. She then rocked back and forth as if to free herself only for Asmo to pick her up once more. 

“Mochi, stop squirming, I’m just bathing you. I’ll give you more jerky if you behave.” He claimed as he walked towards the filled tub.

However, she just fought him even more as she rocked back and forth in his grip. Asmo struggled to keep a grip on her only for him to misjudge the step and fall in the full bath with Mochi in hand, causing a huge splash. Free from his grip, Mochi popped out of the water only to see Asmodeus’s bottom sticking out of the water as he remained still.

“Aw crap, he probably knocked himself out on the marble!” She panicked.

Not wanting him to drown, Mochi transformed, quickly pulled him up, and flipped him over. However, she was greeted by a wide-eyed Asmo who stared in astonishment at the woman holding him in her arms. Silence filled the room as the two remained frozen staring at each other. Then in a flash, Mochi dropped Asmo back into the bath as she tried to make a run for it, only for Asmo to grab onto her pelt and pull her back into the tub as he slipped once more. More water littered the floor as both of them tried to gather their bearings in the water. The struggle ended as Asmo loomed over her as they both panted for breath. Once his breath came back to him, Asmodeus gave a soft smile that was accompanied by a pair of cheeky eyes. “Well, well, you’ve hidden a big secret from everyone, haven’t you? ”

[brightlotusmoon]

Carry On, Wayward Son

I have decided to post my weird-ass TMNT/Supernatural crossover story here, because I am heckin bored and it might be amusing.

(Author's Note: Copied over from "Cold Fire Rising: Oroborous". Because people kept asking me to make this a separate oneshot so fans of 'Supernatural' could find it. If you have no idea what's going on, you may want to read my other stories.) (Summary: The Winchesters go to New York to kill snake demons that are already hunting the Ninja Turtles. Pizza gyoza is eaten a lot. Also, Mikey is a telekinetic telepath.)

Carry On, Wayward Son

As a child, Michelangelo had moved quickly. He was a runner, a sprinter, a leaper, he bounded, he bounced, he spun.

During the small walks around the sewer tunnels during those formidable years, Yoshi, still slightly unaccustomed to being Splinter, would sometimes place his terrapin children in tiny pockets of wall and sing them to sleep while he went to the surface to bring supplies for their little home. He was always quick, and back within twenty minutes, and it was always the youngest who woke first, chirping "Dada!" and holding out freckled arms, baby blue eyes shining and full of love. And as the little group walked back to their home, the youngest would skip ahead and run just a little too fast, and it was always, "Michelangelo, stay close to your brothers, please!" that would bring him back, because Daddy was warm and full of love, and his brothers needed him.

When they were four, and Splinter with confidence and pride, they ventured slightly deeper, and it was Michelangelo who found the hole first. Around it lay scattered two-by-fours, thick and huge pieces of plywood that should have been unmovable, and yet there were nails embedded and there were nails scattered. Warmth spread up and out, dangerous warmth that felt like hisses and calls for blood, calls for spirits. All over the was were oddly-drawn paintings of snakes. Snakes everywhere.

And when Splinter naturally came toward to curious calls of his baby, his fur stood up and he hissed hard enough that even little Raphael stopped grumbling and stood like a statue. And little Michelangelo simply stood there, bouncing, at the very edge of that jagged abyss, and gazed into it with bright, quick eyes. Splinter's heart was pounding so hard he though the very sewers could hear it. And when Michelangelo turned to him, his eyes wide and bright and somewhat glassy, said solemnly, "I bet they can hear us!" Splinter growled and snatched him up, and the other three followed silently as he ran toward the lair, but Michelangelo only laughed softly and patted the side of his face and murmured, "S'okay, Daddy, they're just lonely and hungry!" and that only made Splinter's heart want to crack in terror.

"Ugh, that's another one." Raphael lashed out with the broom as Leonardo kept mumbling "Gentle, gentle," and the tiny snake slithered between the crack. "How and why do they keep coming to the lair? The sewers and subway tunnels are huge, guys!"

"They most likely smell food," Leonardo reasoned. "And warmth."

"Hey, I cannot help it if I love baking," Michelangelo sniffed, carefully guiding another snake away from the lair, "and if Donnie built the world's best stove."

"Right, it's all my fault," Donatello mused in sarcasm.

"Uh, kinda is, dude? You're the one building heat lamps everywhere and-"

"Because despite what a darn veterinarian thinks, we are still turtle enough to need heat and water?"

"Leave his girlfriend's sister outta this, she's just doing her job."

"Raph, she is not my-"

"Besides, if you don't, said vet's wife will beat you up. Also, Mikey, Gaia is so your girlfriend it's not funny. When you start banging, you're definitely boyfriend and girlfriend, end of discussion."

"Don, Rhea never said we weren't turtle enough," Leo said calmly, standing up. "She said we were more hominid than chelonion. You're being offended by your own science."

"Awww, does Raph have a crush on Freya?"

"Shut up, Mikey, I swear…"

"It's cool, they're polyamorous!"

"There's another snake! I should probably just seal these cracks…"

"Hey, April's texting. There's some news report about humans wandering into the sewers and falling down a huge hole and dying?"

"Wait, April texted you? Why didn't she text me? Oh, it's a group text."

"Really, Donnie, give it a rest."

Sighing, Leonardo went to the television and turned it to the news channel. The story was small, one of those "and in other, local news" stories. But it caught his attention. Because the spot the reporter was describing was one he remembered going to as a young child. He leaned closer, tilting his head. Yes, definitely. But Splinter had made them leave, Splinter had seemed frightened and angry. There had been…wood boards? Why?

"Hey, guys, do you have any vague memory of-"

And as he turned, he saw Mikey staring at the screen, mouth open, eyes glazed, shivering. Quickly, Leo turned off the TV and knelt in front of Michelangelo, reaching for his hands. "Mikey, what is it? Are you seeing something?"

His brothers quieted, gathering around. Mikey blinked and shook himself. "Huh? What? What, why are you all looking at me? Did I do the weird psychic thing again?"

"You did a weird psychic thing," Raph muttered. Donatello flicked his arm.

"Did you hear that news report?" Leo clarified.

"Oh! Yeah. You guys don't remember that place? It was awesome. There were, like, murals of snakes on the tunnel walls and everything."

Leo and Don exchanged a look. "I keenly do not recall it being in any way awesome," Don said. "In fact, I remember sensei desperately getting us away from there. He had to pick you up and carry you because you were so close you were ready to fall in. You squirmed the whole way home."

Mikey stared at him and scratched the back of his neck. "Really? Huh. Sooo, nobody remembers the voices?"

They glanced at each other in alarm.

"I think we should go talk to Master Splinter," said Raph gruffly.

Master Splinter didn't want to talk about that day.

"Yes," he said, head bowed, head half closed. "I remember that day vividly. But I do not believe it to be of great importance currently."

They glanced at each other.

"But the news reports are saying that people have gone down there and not come out," Donatello said. "As in, they may have died. Brutally."

Splinter raised his eyebrows, ears perked.

"Also, him," and Raphael pointed at Michelangelo, who was humming and looking at the walls.

"Wha, me? What'd I do now?"

"Your vision, numbskull. Or whatever that was. During the news report?" Raph tapped him on the head. "What was that about?"

Mikey shrugged. "I'unno. I forget. Hey, is anyone else really warm right now?"

"No. Donnie lowered the heat to stop those little snakes from getting in." Leo raised an eyeridge.

"You sure, dudes? Because it's like a sauna. A really over-saunaed sauna."

"Mikey," Don said, with exasperation, "I promise you, the lair is not over-heated. If anything, I made it just a little cooler. We may all want to sleep with heat lamps for a couple of days."

"Ugh." Michelangelo scrunched up his face. "No thanks. I don't want to sleep through a sauna, no matter how turtley I am."

His brothers exchanged glances that said "It's Mikey, what can you do?" and turned away. But Splinter came forward and swiftly pressed his hand against Michelangelo's forehead. "You are warm," he murmured."

"I know, right?" Mikey said. "I mean, I love to bask as much as the next turtle, but this is just silly. Also, you hear that weird hissing noise, right?"

Splinter's hand instinctively jerked and his eyes widened.

"The ones that sound like voices. Come on, nobody can hear that?"

"Michelangelo," Splinter said, very carefully. "Do you remember how to get to that…place we went to when you were children?"

"Sure! Also, hi, psychic."

"Yes. That may be why you alone hear these sounds." Splinter tried to smile kindly.

"Oh! Right. Sorry, it's been a really weird day. I've had weird dreams. Also my head's been hurting and I feel dizzy and I should go splash water on my face."

And when Michelangelo skipped back into the pit of the lair, Splinter struggled to recall if there had been any iron around the hole twelve years ago.

"Yeah," his older brother said, flopped down on the hotel bed, looking deflated, "a trip to New York City sounds awesome. And hey, kicking a little monster ass before we get some takeout? I'm up for that."

"They're saying it's underground," he said. "Like, sewers underground. Abandoned subway tunnels."

"What, and we haven't fought monsters through sludge and crap? Hell, maybe we can find out if those rumors are really true, like…giant alligators or…or mutated turtles that got flushed or whatever."

He sighed, shrugged, and opened a beer, wondering if the Impala's tank had been filled, reminding himself to check his gun's rounds.

The five of them walked silently through the tunnels, although every now and then, Mikey would hum a tune. Splinter led the way, and wouldn't answer questions; his muscles seemed rigid. The tunnels were getting slightly warmer.

"Thataway," Mikey murmured, pointing, and they went right. Nobody commented on Mikey's startling lack of enthusiasm or energy. They assumed he was concentrating. The team dynamic had altered enough during the past year that Michelangelo's calm silences were seen as attempts to focus his telepathic or clairvoyant senses.

Slowly, as the ground sloped, they saw it, the massive hole laid over with wood, some fresh and some old. As Leonardo knelt to examine it, Donatello began walking around its edge. "Makes me wonder why they've been using wood and not metal to seal this thing. It's not as if the hole goes anywhere."

He stepped on an end of one of the wood pieces, and Michelangelo screamed "STOP!" and Don shuddered and nearly lost his balance, staring at his little brother, who just stared back at him.

"Don't walk directly over it, silly," Mikey said, jovially. "You might wake them up."

"Uh oh," Leo muttered under his breath.

Heat was rising like summer steam, and everyone but Michelangelo backed away a little. And then he giggled a few times, swayed, said in a high-pitched voice, "It is really reallyhot in here!" – and collapsed.

As his brother drove across the Brooklyn Bridge, he kept researching and cross-referencing. "Literally the only thing I can find is something about snake demons, who use telekinesis to paint snake drawings around the area so people notice and come look... waiting for people to walk over deep trenches and holes, then snap them up and kill them by drinking all the blood and possibly the spirit, which amplifies the snake creatures' telekinetic and telepathic powers. Like, they can sense the heat and blood of any psychically sensitive person, but they will particularly rise from their lair to find those with strong telekinetic powers to try and kill them before that person kills them. So, hey, maybe I can draw them out a little."

"Mm'kay," his brother said. "How can we kill them?"

"Uhh, hang on…okay, it seems that someone with deeper, stronger powers than the creature would need to stab it through the face or eye with iron, or something containing iron, staining the iron with his own blood…"

"Like that one new dagger we got in the bag?"

"Yup, like that. And then, ummm, all of the related yokai incidents will recede back through the abyss from out they crawled…and then there's nothing else. That's it."

"What the fuck's a yokai?"

"Japanese word for demon or supernatural creature."

"Oh, so now we're getting involved in Godzilla shit? This is interesting. So where's the hole located?"

He briefly smiled before replying. "An abandoned tunnel under Chinatown's best noodle shops."

His brother threw back his head and roared with laughter. "Oh, this is just too good, man!"

He reached for the radio, and turned up The Foo Fighters' "Learn To Fly" and sang at the top of his lungs.

In his ice bath, Mikey had asked for the radio to be placed nearby, and now he and Raph were listening to The Foo Fighter's "Learn To Fly" at a ridiculous volume while Raph playfully splashed his still-sweating little brother.

"You in there, kiddo?" he asked.

Mikey, his head leaning far back and his entire body submerged to the neck, half-opened his eyes. "More ice," he mumbled.

Trying not to frown, Raph dug the scoop into the cooler again. "You're gonna make us run outta ice, buddy."

"Nah. Ice Crm Kitty c'n make more. Shz good like tha'." The slurring was even worse. Raph debated yelling for Don again, but there wasn't much they could do at this point. Mikey was slowly succumbing to hyperthermia, and while he hadn't mentioned cramping in his muscles, the passing out in the tunnel was proof.

"Hey, Raph?"

"Yeah, Mikey?"

"Can I get out 'n stretch? Muscles are all weird 'n crampy."

All right, there was cramping.

"Donnie!" he yelled.

As though he had been waiting nearby, Donatello appeared in the doorway. "Everything okay?"

Raph pointed to Mike, who was squirming to sit up. "Cramps. He's got cramps. And he asked for more ice."

"Shiiit." Donnie crouched and pressed the back of his hand to Mikey's forehead. "He's still burning." Leonardo, behind them, turned off the radio. "I don't get it. Nobody should be passing through the stages of hyperthermia like this. What the hell is in that hole, and is it doing this, and how do we get rid of it?"

"Why're you askin' us, you're the scientist!"

"I'm asking the air, Raph. Okay? I'm asking the goddamn air, because our kid brother might die of heat stroke before the day is out, and we live in the sewer!"

"That's it," and Raph stormed out, across the lair, where Splinter and April and Casey had been staying openly for the past two days. "I'm gonna find that hole, and I'm gonna make whatever is in it come out, and I'm gonna go stab it in the fucking face!"

An unfamiliar, gruff voice called out from beyond the turnstiles, "Then you had better be a damn good real psychic with an iron knife on you, pal, because this is a snake demon!"

Everybody froze.

Sam and Dean hadn't expected much when they had finally reached the boarded-up hole in the sewer tunnel. Impressive paintings of snakes all over the walls. Excessive heat rising from it with absolutely no source, Sam's mention of hissing noises. "Yeah, there's no way I have any power to kill these things," he said. "But I saw them. In my head. There's two of them, coiled up, eating a couple of teenagers."

"Fantastic," Dean murmured. "Maybe we'll find a psychic alligator down here."

Voices floated from the other end, pushing the brothers into shadows. They turned off their flashlights. The party on the other end had flashlights, and what they saw made Dean decide to wonder if he really should step out and ask about the alligators.

Four humanoid turtles and one humanoid rat, the turtles around five-six and the rat close to six feet, gathered around the hole, chatting about it and examining it. They had human voices. Human expressions. Human concerns. Particularly when the smallest turtle, dotted with freckles, yelled out, looked overly concerned, began sweating profusely, and toppled over in a dead faint. The others moved like a blur, calling "Mikey! Mikey!" The Winchester brothers watched in stunned silence as the giant rat lifted up the turtle like a child – it had even said "my son" – and began leading the others way. Shakily, the Winchesters followed, with Dean's hand near his gun holster and Sam hissing in his ear not to shoot on sight.

As the voices faded around a curve, Sam whispered, a little louder, "Dean, that's a family. And I think these yokai are affecting the little one, he might be the youngest. They're brothers. The rat is their dad. I think… I mean, you know how bizarre Manhattan gets. We've seen those news clips. I think…they're mutants."

"Sooo…what if they really are friends with the giant alligators?"

The lair was full of nervous movements, twitches, shuffles, hands grasping here and there.

All eyes were trained on the entrance to the lair, beyond the turnstiles. From the bathroom, Michelangelo began to yell, "Okay, getting out now! Gotta get the snakes killed dead! They want power for blood, you know…" And somehow his fever-soaked body had gained bizarre strength, and Raphael and Donatello barely managed to restrain him while Leonardo, katanas in hand, crept toward the turnstiles. Mikey had half-dragged his brothers all the way out into the center of the lair, soaking wet. April and Casey had backed up to the couch, silent. Splinter was directly behind Leonardo, hands behind his back.

Footsteps approached a little closer. Human shadows threw against the floor and walls.

Raphael let out a low, long growl.

That gruff voice said, "I've got a gun, you know!"

Another voice, smoother and higher, said "Dean, put the gun away, I'm serious!"

"Sam, do you see how serious I am? This is my serious face! This is my serious gun!"

Leonardo called out "I've got katana swords and I'm a ninja, do not test me!"

Raphael was twitching, all but leaping in slow motion.

"Snakes!" Michelangelo yelped.

"What snakes!" Donatello cried desperately.

Splinter stepped forward, and with decades of authority, yelled "STOP."

As two young men prepared to step through the turnstiles, the entire lair became a place of living statues.

The only motion was the rise and fall of breath and the dripping of water.

Dean and Sam put their hands up.

Leonardo sheathed his swords.

Everybody just stared at each other.

Splinter ascended the stairs, and stopped close enough so that the boys felt his whiskers tickle their palms. Very slowly and neutrally, he said, "My name is Splinter. Who are you and how did you find our home?"

Dean stuttered. He thought about reaching for his gun again.

The rat master's ears went back. "I am a ninjitsu master from Japan. I once was human. I know every single pressure point on the human body. I can drop you both in seconds. Please start speaking."

Sam blurted out, "Uh, I'm Sam Winchester, this is my brother Dean, we're hunters, we drive around the country hunting monsters and urban legends, we learned about, uhh, snake yokai in the sewers killing people, we wanted to check it out, Dean thought there might be a psychic alligator who could help, and we have never encountered anybody like you guys. Hi?" And he gave a very nervous smile.

Splinter looked into Sam's eyes, for a long time. He slowly bowed. "Very well." Then he stepped aside. "Please, Winchester brothers, come in."

"Uh," Dean said, "Mind if your, um, sons, put the sharp things away first?"

Without turning around, Splinter snapped, "Raphael! Put away your sais."

Raphael muttered, "Wait how did he know how we're related?"

There was a tail thump from Splinter. Raph put his sais in his belt, then pulled Mikey to the couch. "I'm layin' him down, and he really wants to leave the lair, sensei."

Sam hurried forward, then remembered himself. He very slowly approached the couch, hands up again, and Raph immediately hissed. Donnie snapped at him. To Sam, he said, "Sorry, he's really overprotective, and you're new."

Sam didn't even blink. "Oh, I get it. I really, really get it. I'm the younger brother."

Raphael seemed to relax just a little. "Yeah, fine. But you're not touching him, pretty boy."

Sam narrowed his eyes. "Look, I know what this is, and if I'm right, your little brother is in big trouble, and we need to find a really, really powerful psychic. Like, telekinesis for breakfast powerful."

From his fetal position on the couch, Michelangelo lifted his arm and chirped, "Thass me. Hi there, tall human! I like you!"

Sam looked down at him and murmured, "Shit."

Ten minutes later after introductions all around, Sam and Don had managed to sit Michelangelo up, cover him in cold cloths and ice packs, and get him talking properly. Donnie had to prompt him to use psionics to bring his body temperature down – "We're all so used to his telekinesis that we forget it's so recent, and when he's so out of it that he forgets, it's troubling," – Donnie explained.

Stories were traded, origins and backgrounds and reasons why ninjas and why hunters. Then came the explanations of Hamato Yoshi's life, journey to America, mutations, spending almost seventeen years raising turtles that were more like humans. Sam often said "Awwww" under his breath, while Dean and Casey nudged each other and rolled their eyes.

"Okay," Dean said, "as much as I wanna break out the family photo albums-"

"There would not be many, anyway," Splinter interrupted. I did not acquire cameras for four years, so I mainly did charcoal drawings. Once the cameras were here, Donatello tried to find out how they worked, so Michelangelo broke half of them open."

The humans laughed. Donnie blushed. Raph just made a disgusted sound.

"You were a good father, though," Leonardo said fondly.

"Must have been nice," Sam said, wistfully.

Splinter tilted his head. "Did you…not have a father?"

Dean made an "Oy" sound. Sam shot him a glance.

"Ah, we did. I mean. When I was a baby, our mom was killed by a demon who made me drink its blood so I could later be a vessel for other demons, and then when we were old enough, Dad took us hunting, and then he was killed, and then we got to see him again, and he was killed again, and um. Mostly our lives have been about hotel rooms and the Impala, sooo…"

"What year?" Raph and Casey asked at the same time.

"Wh-wha?"

"The car," Raph said impatiently. "The Chevy Impala, man. What year is it?"

"1967," Dean said. "Black. Four-door sedan, raceback."

Raph's eyes widened. "Tell me she has a 327 powerglide turbo engine."

Dean's grin was toothy. "Yep. She's a beast."

"Ohhhh," Casey murmured. "Four barrel, V-8. Can I see her?"

Raphael slapped him upside the head, hissing. "Later, dude. When we're not in peril?"

"Yeah, but, like…you don't need me for this, do you?"

Dean whipped around and stared. "What, and you want me to take you topside to drool on my car when your friends are in crisis? What the hell, kid?"

Raph leaned toward him. "Lots of hockey. Too many hits to the skull."

"Hey! Those cars are so classic, and if I could get my hands on just one-"

"Shut up, Casey," Raph and Dean said in unison.

Sam coughed. They turned toward him. He was sitting with Mikey's arm slung over his shoulder, holding the turtle casually and gently, like a sleepy little brother. "Hey, so, he's only cooled down a little, thanks to his own telekinesis, so we'd better do this pretty quickly."

Dean looked at Splinter. "I mean, you heard what we found in our research. Is there any…mmm, Japanese folklore that talks about super-psychic snake demons hiding underground?"

Splinter sighed. "I am afraid very little is known about hebe-yokai, save for the fact that, like the others, they are most likely shapeshifters and tricksters. There are many kinds, however, and our enemy here is obviously one that is very rare or uncommon. That they have telekinetic abilities, feed on the soul, and can only be killed by iron does not surprise me. I believe it must be pure, whole iron, however."

"Oh, like this?" And Dean held up a dagger, polished, with a very sharp iron blade.

"Nice eye-poker." Raph had one of his sai out, and he clinked it against the iron.

"It's also a useful letter-opener. Usually we banish ghosts with it, but as long as I can clean it after your brother stabs those snakes with it, we'll be cool."

"Dudes," and Mikey's exhausted laugh floated around the lair. "It'll be fine. No, April, you can't do what I'm doing, stay here and play with Ice Cream Kitty. Ooh! Gimme a sec, I gotta stick my head in the freezer."

Sam was thrown to his knees from the force the sick turtle pushed himself up with, and Donnie had to wrap both arms around his waist. "Mikey, you can let Ice Cream Kitty lick you after we fight demon snakes!"

"But she's so cool and refreshing!"

"What the hell is Ice Cream Kitty?" Sam panted.

And the freezer meowed.

"Oh," Dean said, staring into the bowl full of ice. "So, that's what a cat mutated with ice cream looks like."

She was cute, her bottom chocolate and flat and settled well into the ice. She also seemed to hear every word he was saying, because she meowed and smiled at him.

He leaned in just close enough to get a lick on the nose, leaving a trail of strawberry ice cream. He wiped at it with a finger and stared.

"Don't lick it off," Leo warned.

"Why?" Sam asked, petting the Neopolitan cat and getting a lick on his finger and a purr in return. "Is she full of poison?"

"No, she just tastes really good."

The boys raised their eyebrows, and at the same time licked the ice cream off their fingers.

"Oh," Sam said. "Wow," Dean finished.

"Mew?" said the cat.

Blinking, Dean leaned down until they were face to face. She leaned forward and licked his nose firmly, then mewed happily. And then Dean licked her back. She danced happily.

"Dude," Sam said with an exasperated smile, "I can't believe you just licked a cat on the cheek."

Dean grinned, licking his lips. "A cat made of ice cream!"

Leo was trying not to laugh and failing.

Dean wasn't even trying to hide his enjoyment as he wiped the ice cream off and licked his finger. "Really good. Yeah."

"Told you," Raph said. "Okay Mikey, we gotta put her back."

"But I'm not done!" cried the feverish youngest, with his head stretched into the freezer as far as it would go.

"Okay, baby brother," Don said, grabbing his shoulders. "Come on. We have some homicidal snake demons to kill. I can't believe I said that with a straight face. Why the hell are you so strong all of a sudden? Somebody help me out, here?"

Sam and Dean both grabbed on to Mikey, carefully prying him as he whimpered. Two ice trays floated out alongside his head.

"Hey, buddy, hey," Dean said softly, in a Big Brother voice, patting his head, "Come on, kiddo. Put the ice trays back. They can't come with us, okay?"

"But it's hooot!" Mikey's eyes rolled up and met Dean's, imploring, and for a moment Dean was stunned speechless at how adorable he looked. He found himself grinning. "Hey, Sammy, he reminds me of you as a toddler!"

"What, the big eyes thing? Whoa. Oh. Yeah. Dad fell for that a lot."

"We do, too," Donatello said, waiting for Leo to return Ice Cream Kitty before closing the freezer door. "It's how he gets away with so many things. It brings out our raging protective instincts, and our miserable failure instincts when he gets hurt." The pain in his voice made Sam frown and reach for him.

Leo cleared his voice. "Uh, sooo…do you guys have a place to stay for the night?"

"Not yet," Dean said. "We haven't even made hotel reservations."

"Don't," Leo said. "We have a spare room."

Sam stared at him. "You…ah…you sure?"

The turtles nodded. Leonardo shrugged. "You're helping us save Mikey's life."

"Yeah," Mikey giggled, "for what, the fifth time, already? Yo, Donnie! What's my death tally? I think it's four! I thought we were keeping score! I just came outta the four-month coma, that was hard healing work. D'you know how long it takes to heal two broken legs and a crushed chest? No wonder it was four months." It was a big speech in his condition. He panted heavily, sweating, opening his mouth to say something else and managing a whispered "You're a good medic Donnie. I wanna be you when I grow up."

Donatello flinched, hard, and Sam's eyes widened. "Uh…sounds close to ours, really."

"Wait," Raphael said, "Both o' you guys died?"

"Long story," both Winchesters sighed.

Michelangelo giggled again, stumbling against Dean's firm hold. "I know! III know! It's in their miiinds!" Dean gave him a sharp, wide-eyed look.

"Mikey!" Leo said, "You promised you wouldn't read without permission!"

"Well," Sam said, steering Mikey to a chair, then holding him by the shoulders, "he is delirious. I doubt he can control his powers well."

Raphael folded his arms. "At least shit's not flying around the house again."

"Nope!" Mikey said, a little more somber, "just flying around in here." He pointed to his temple. "Until the snakes are bye bye."

"I am…not sure what that means," Don said.

Sam bit his lip, staring at Mikey's head. "He's holding it all in. Building it up. Because of his condition right now." He smiled at some confused faces and said, "I'm… kinda psychically sensitive. It gets stronger around powerful people. Like him. He's the strongest we've ever met. Not counting witches and demons. But seriously, he's, like, barricading a bunch of power as hard as he can."

Dean blinked. "Ohh. Like floodgates. Okay, well, we've seen what that's like, we should-"

Both Sam and Mikey jerked, then froze, then very slowly turned to the turnstiles.

"Did you hear a hissing sound?" Sam asked.

"It's hotter," Mikey whispered.

"Shit," Sam whispered. "They're here!"

"What?" Dean yelled.

Sam ran to get the iron dagger, yelling, "They're not waiting for anyone to come to them. They sense Mikey, the heat and power he's registering. They sense me. They're both coming this way."

"What?" Raph said. "I thought they had to wait until someone came to them!"

"Uh, apparently when they sense this much psychic power in one place…theeey go hunting?" Sam offered a very apologetic grin, slowly helping Mikey out of the chair and turning him away from the freezer. Raphael gave him a slight "I might harm you but you're taking care of my brother" stare before grabbing his own weapons.

"Are you fucking kidding me with this right now…" Dean muttered between clenched teeth, and went to get his handgun.

The four turtles and two armed humans, insisting that anyone else stay in the lair, went past the turnstiles and began walking. Sam and Raph, being the strongest, were holding Mikey between them, who was slowly, carefully, regaining his sense of balance, if not some awareness. Sam held the iron dagger in his free hand and tried to imbue it with any power he could dredge up. "What I wouldn't give to be telekinetic again," he muttered. "Even possessed by demons."

"Yeah, we'll save that story for later," Raph grumbled. "You and your demons."

"You and your aliens," Sam shot back.

"Yeah, well, say it to Leatherhead's face."

"Who is Leatherhead?"

"Giant mutant alligator, Mikey's good pal."

"I knew there were giant alligators!" Dean crowed. "I fucking knew it!"

A slithering made them pause, Dean and Leo in the front, Leo drawing his swords and Dean cocking the hammer back on his engraved Colt .45. As Leo turned his head a fraction and narrowed his eyes, Dean said, "Don't you dare knock this thing, you know how many evil monsters we took out with it? I know you're all, like, sword and honor, but that's you, man."

Not saying a word, Leonardo merely turned his head back and tightened his grips on his swords.

As the targets came into view, Dean looked up, and muttered. "Yeah, should've brought a bigger gun."

The first snake-creature dove down, and Leo yelled "Face!" while Dean yelled, "Eyes!" and they struck and fired.

"Nope, made it mad," Dean said, and Leo growled. Dean tilted his head back. "SAMMY!"

"All right, Mikey, we're up," and at this point Sam was taking all the turtle's weight after Raph had drawn his sai. Urging Michelangelo to the side, away from the battle, he yelled, "Hey! Snake things! Over here!" and before he even knew what he was doing, he slashed his arm with the iron blade.

"Sammy, what the hell!"

"Wait, is he supposed to do that?"

But time had slowed. Both snake demons were focused on them. Michelangelo suddenly pulled away from him swaying on his feet, and grabbed the dagger, muttering, "That was silly, I'm better." He then sliced his own right hand, dripping blood on the blade. Raphael, in the background, roared. Sam stared in shock as Mike pointed at Sam's arm, and Sam watched his arm wound seal up. Michelangelo stepped in front of him, and Sam held out a hand to steady him. Mikey was gripping the blood-soaked dagger, blood running down his arm, dripping on the floor. Sam heard Mikey whisper something in Japanese.

As the first snake's head came into view, Mike stabbed an eye up to the hilt and there was a screech. He stabbed its other eye, and the creature rippled like a heat wave, rearing back and collapsing, turning to a fine mist. The other creature screamed, and Mikey just threw the dagger in its face. It became mist and heat, and Mikey sagged against Sam, apparently exhausted. Out of the corner of his eye, Sam watched Raphael, expressions warring on his face.

"Well," Leonardo said, lowering his katanas.

"Okay, then," Dean said, holstering the gun. He walked to the still-swirling mist. He kicked at the dagger before picking it up, then exclaiming "Ow!" before dropping it.

"That would be because it is extremely hot, I'm guessing," Donatello said dryly.

"That how you use all your intelligence?" Dean grumbled.

"Yeah, okay, I got it," Michelangelo mumbled, staggering forward. He picked up the dagger in both hands, even as his bleeding hand sizzled, and before there was another sound, he turned his head and said, "Shove it, Raph, I said I got this." And he slowly began walking to the lair, swaying a little and limping on his left leg. He pointed a finger back at Dean, and the blisters on his hand vanished.

"Well," Dean said, blinking, "that's useful."

"It takes very little energy to heal others," Donnie said, "extraordinary amounts of energy to heal himself."

"So, what you're saying is someone should catch up to him before he passes out on the floor, got it," and Sam ran ahead.

"As battles go," Dean said, over a large bite of pizza gyoza, "that was almost anti-climactic. But fun! I don't think anyone else we know could have done that. Man, these are good.We're still gonna save some for Mikey when he wakes up, right?"

He had already eaten half a dozen, and seeing what was left on the table, the endless sea of dumplings, no one worried about putting some aside.

Donatello returned from his lab, which contained the infirmary, and resumed his place at the table. "Mikey should wake up within the hour. He's healing and cooling down simultaneously, so he'll be weak and hungry. Which ones are we setting aside?"

Sam pointed silently to the dozen that Murakami had already wrapped in another bag, marked with Mikey's name. "Dean's so blissed out he forgot."

"I think I like these better than pie," Dean said over a mouthful.

Sam paused and stared and stared. "Holy shit. I think we'll need to place another order before we leave."

"A big one."

"And then come back."

"There's more monsters in New York, right?"

Splinter stood in the doorway, smiling. "The guest room is prepared, my friends. You may have the first showers."

"Right, right," Sam said, "your bathroom has multiple stalls and tubs and fixtures, that's pretty neat."

Dean agreed with a sound, around his mouthful.

"Perhaps, tomorrow morning, you would like to sit in and watch us perform some katas?"

The boys shrugged at each other. "Sure," Sam said, "we could always use ideas on combat."

"Think Psychic Boy will be up for that?" Dean asked.

"Mikey will be fine," Raph said. "He just needs sleep. And provided he doesn't prank anyone, we'll all be bright and happy."

Later, Sam and Dean prepared the room, and sat around the couch with Leo and Raph, watching horror movies. In the middle of the first film, Mikey walked out of the infirmary, limping, stretching. "Oh, good, I'm not missing the marathon."

"Hey!" Sam jumped up and offered him a seat. "Glad to see you're okay!"

"Thanks," and the smile Mikey offered was sweet, strong, and shining, and Sam smiled back, basking in that natural grin. As long as this kid was all right, he felt better. He truly understood in that heartbreaking way how it is to have a precious brother you would be willing to die for.

"Hey, pal," Dean clapped him on the shoulder as Mikey sat between the brothers, his bandaged hand reaching for a can of soda. "You did really good."

"Yeah, I guess so," and Mikey's shy smile and ducked head made them meet eyes over his head.

"You really did, Mikey," Leo added, and Mikey's head snapped up. "We mean it. We don't mean to tease you all the time, but we all know your potential. With or without the psionics. I mean, did you know your hands were shaking when you stabbed those things?"

"R-really? I didn't know…" and Mikey flushed, causing the Winchesters to put their hands on his shell with another concerned glance. Raphael leaned forward, to Dean and said, "He gets kinda weird about praise sometimes. He's got ADHD, and he slips up a lot. He gets in the way and sometimes we just…let our frustrations out."

And the Winchesters nodded, their mouths forming Os, and kept their hands on Mikey's shell encouragingly.

Later, as the turtles dragged themselves to bed, Sam and Dean were stopped by Splinter on their own way. "I wanted to give you this, for your journey," the rat ninja said. He held out a slender kunai, carved with engravings on the handle and the base of the blade. "It carries the Hamato clan crest."

The brothers stared and gaped a little, and Sam smiled and bowed, murmuring deep thanks, while Dean's eyes were wide with awe, clearly impressed. He just nodded. And at the silent and deep appreciation, Splinter merely nodded and smiled. "It is also," he added, "imbued with my own spiritual energy, and that of our dojo tree. Perhaps it will slay a difficult creature or two along your way."

As the boys were still smiling at each other, the tall humanoid rat held out his arms and embraced them warmly. Finally relaxing, they shut their eyes and smiled, feeling a lifetime of sorrow, weight, wayward travel, and battle slowly dissipating, just a little. Sam was clearly struggling not to cry, and Dean was biting his lip so hard it bled. As they separated, that sensation of peace remained. There was peace when they were done.

"See you in the morning, boys," Splinter smiled. "And may we meet again on the long road. Try to not fly so high that you fall too far."

Neither knew what to say. Splinter knew that. He merely bowed, and they bowed back, and as the rat ninja turned to face the tree in the center of the dojo, the Winchesters headed toward their own room, dizzy and overwhelmed but more relaxed than they could understand.

And in the shared bed that night, Sam looked over at Dean right before closing his eyes, and said, "I miss Dad."

"Yeah. G'night, little brother," Dean said fondly, and turned off the bedside lamp. His last thought was of Raphael and Michelangelo, and brothers' bonds.

Nobody had nightmares that night.

"I don't care about whose DNA has recombined with whose. When everything goes to hell, the people who stand by you without flinching-they are your family." ―Jim Butcher

"You must remember, family is often born of blood, but it doesn't depend on blood. Nor is it exclusive of friendship. Family members can be your best friends, you know. And best friends, whether or not they are related to you, can be your family." ― Trenton Lee Stewart

[mmagazinetko]

The Devil‘s Inn

Page 1 The Realms Entrance

We have been walking for so many days, sent by the king of Klagorn to retrieve a powerful relic. I personally don’t believe in this old crap, but orders are orders. My legs are aching and the exhaustion made me feel heavy. The cold winter wind whispered through the woods and made all wild animals hide in their warm homes but that was no good for us, there’s barely enough food to feed the half of us. We haven’t even found the entrance to this wretched place. “Artemis!” a voice called from behind, “Your turn for hunting duty.” sir Belemora was one of the royal knights who came along, a first-class snob. One of those stereotypical knights with his golden hair and ocean blue eyes, no respect for anyone under his ranking. “Of course sir, I’ll leave at once.” I responded with a respectful bow, I hate that man’s guts but the slightest disrespect and he would cause too much trouble. I left, just like a few dozen other men who had received the same order. No sane animal was out in these conditions and the snow covered the ground with a thick white cloak, no footprints to be found, no lairs to be seen, no plants other than the winter trees. I followed a river north from where the others were setting up camp, if there is anything wandering about they’d be near the river, or so they would if the river wasn’t frozen solid. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw a white rabbit. I snuck closely as silent as a shadow, it didn’t seem to notice me. I pounced like a sabretooth… “CLICK” “What in the seven gods?” I asked myself in astonishment. The rabbit was already dead, frozen by the biting cold and I laid in the snow for a moment. But what really surprised me was the rumbling beneath me, so strong that the men at the encampment must have felt it. I fell and there I was again lying in the snow. The frozen river crackled like thunder as the ground split in two. Stairs… Spiral stairs of stone each as big as a tree is tall and twice the width. “That was close.” I thought to myself. I stared in awe as my upper half hung over the ledge. I carefully brought myself back to my feet. I took another look at the enormous staircase, they went deep into the ground, miles below the surface. I followed the river back to the encampment. The snow storm had quieted down. “Back so soon?” Sometimes I felt like this bastard was following me everywhere I went. “Yes, sir Belemora.” “Empty handed?” He asked. “The animals are hiding in there wholes and caves, there are no berry bushes or fruit trees and the only rabbit I found was already dead for I too long to be good Sir. I have however-” “I don’t need excuses. Everyone here is hungry and you come back empty handed?!” His voice was calm but threatening. “Useless.” He spat the word like a snake, he grabbed me by the upper arm and brought me to commander Clegane. A tall and the most muscular man among us all. Belemora brought me here hoping that he’d accept to send me wandering alone in the white forest knowing that would be the same as killing me on the spot. With respect for the commander he explained what had happened with exaggeration. “You were given an order soldier, and you ignored it. What do you have to say for yourself.” I admire the man, a true hero who had fought in the eternal war. Luckily for us it wasn’t as eternal as everyone thought though it had been going on for many generations. “Commander Clegane, with all do respect sir Belemora hadn’t given me the chance to explain myself. I came back empty handed because I found an entrance with enormous stairs, each bigger and wider than the great hall of the king’s palace.“  Belemora was clearly raging but he kept silent. Clegane’s anger was something that everyone feared to awaken. I showed them the stairs and Clegane made the decision to leave at sunrise. He set some soldiers and Belemora around the stairs to guard it from any eventual explorers. After this long day I went back to my tent where I rested until sunrise.

Page 2 The Inn

We started climbing down the stairs, they were old and whispers were going around saying that they were built for the demon lords and the 7 corrupted gods of sin. There were lots of cracks and gaps to have a good grip… After climbing for several hours everyone was tired we had left most of our equipment behind and many of the soldiers had fallen to their deaths. And I took this opportunity to…dispose of a problem. I had already reached the bottom of a stair whilst Belemora was still climbing down. I stared at him and whispered in an ancient language in such way that no one could hear me “Emantur Ligna Lapis.” The word was used to shape stone at will, a simple spell if you knew the language. Everyone who could turned and stared as the snob knight Belemora fell screaming to his death. No one gave him much attention after that, even the commander didn’t bother with a proper burial for a royal knight. To him everyone present was equal and we had no time to bury every dead man. Especially because there was only stone around us. Like the others who had reached this step I had taken a rest and sat on the ledge and looked down. It was impossible to see the bottom of it. On one of the stairs there were huge red doors. By then only 5 of us including Commander Clegane continued, others feared for theirs lives and stayed behind. The doors reached half the height of the stair and were half as wide as the stairs. They were impossible to open by hand, as approached it though they opened by themselves. The room inside was dark but we went in regardless of that and the strange noises. When we stepped inside, the place lit itself up and I stood in amazement of how big the place was, it was a tavern. Three floors high filled with creatures of all kind, speaking in all kinds of languages, laughing and playing games and making bets and there were imps, spirits, celestial beings and demons alike also some creatures made of pure elemental energy and many more. Surprised we turned back and noticed the doors had disappeared. I felt something tugging on my shirt. I turned around to see an Imp serving what seemed to ale. “From the fella over there.” It said, pointing at a creature that looked like a giant snail who was sitting at the bar drinking its own drink. I took one of the filled tankards hesitantly and so did the others. We walked towards the snail to thank it, it bowed its head a little to say “Your welcome.”. On a pillar hung the rules. At first I couldn’t read it but after staring at it for a few seconds it seemed to have translated itself, a kind of magic was cast on it. There were only four rules.  “1. No Fighting,  2. No Conjuring,  3. No  Banishing,  4. No Magic” I called a bartender but there seemed to be no one, then all of a sudden another imp appeared in front of me. “What can I getch’ya?” it asked with a crackling old voice. “I-I was just wondering what happened to the doors.” “The doors will open once’ya got enough favours.” “Favours?” I asked curiously. “Favours are the main currency around this place, the entrance fee is 3 per person.” It opened a small door and walked through. “Wait how many favours do I currently have?”  Though the imp had already left and went around the place offering filled tankards to other creatures. A panel popped out of the bar table with “-3” written on it, it dived back into the wood after a few seconds. While I was explaining what I had found out to the 4 others some creatures got into an argument and everyone around them took as much distance as they could. The bar split in two and a small group of imps ran towards the two combatants, grabbed on to them and once they were both covered in imps a great big bang and green flames rained around the explosion. There was nothing left of the imps and the two creatures. “Better not break the rules.” Clegane said understanding that the punishment for breaking them is exactly what happened to those creatures. “All of you go do some favours and meet up here once you got the three you need to leave, we can’t waste too much time in here.” He ordered us. I turned to the snail and asked it if I could offer it help in exchange for a favour or two. “My brother. Kill him and I will reward you with 2 favours.” “Where can I find him?” I didn’t care about the lives of others, especially those of these impure creatures and I like a good killing, as long as no one sees me doing the deed I cannot be punished for it.“Room 371, the elevator is in the corner over there.” “I’ll be back in a bit.”

Page 3 Meliodas

 When I entered the elevator it automatically went up. I stepped out and there was a sign hanging on the wall for each hallway “300-309”, “310-319”, “320-329”… When I found the door I grabbed a small pot of salt that I saw downstairs at the bar, opened it and prepared my sword. “Knock, knock, knock.” A snail slightly different to the one at the bar opened the door. “What.” He said, clearly annoyed. “A gift from your sibling.” I threw the salt in his eyes and they quickly melt like runny eggs and before he could scream in pain I slashed his head off. The salt wasn’t necessary but even assassins can have a bit of fun time to time. I smiled, closed the door and returned to the other snail to report his brother’s death. “I hope he suffered.” “I’m sure he did, his eyes melted with the salt.” I responded coldly. The snail’s eyes widened. “You’ve earned your favours, now leave me.” He seemed scared when he said that. “Are surprised? I’ve done what you asked of me.” “Salt doesn’t kill my kind, it melts us to our core. The greatest pain we can feel, I hoped he’d suffer but that is a step too far. Now leave.” “You haven’t given me anything.” “It’s not like gold, favours aren’t made of any material. Ask the bar and she will show you.” I checked with the bar a piece of the wood popped out with “-1” carved on it. “Hello there.” A voice whispered behind my ear “Looking for a favour? I’m looking for my 7th wife, she’s tall and blue with 4 arms and 3 breasts, one of a kind. Bring her to me and I’ll give a favour.” It was a demon, dark red and he towered over me with his great horns and his mismatched eyes, one was light blue, one was black and one was bloodred and looked like someone had slapped it randomly on his face, it was moving around his face like a bug. “Any idea where she might be?” “Her friends are usually on the second floor, I’d go myself but I’ve got some other ladies that need my attention down here.” He made me think of Belemora, but that was none of my concern. I quickly found his wife, she was even taller than him and hard to miss. “Hello ma’am.” “What do you want, worm?” “Forgive me. Your husband has requested me to escort you to him.” This demon could easily rip me in half so I tried to show as much respect as I could. “I bet it’s Meliodas, isn’t it? The red one with the wandering eye.” “Yes, ma’am it is.” “I’ll tell you what if you can keep him busy for about two hours I’ll give you four favours. He probably offered you a cheap prize. My freedom is worth way more but unless you keep him busy for days I’ll give you four.” I didn’t need the extra favours but I thought that I could get some useful information with the extra, maybe some food and a bed to sleep in. “Sound like a fair deal to me, I’ll do my best ma’am.” She turned back to her friends after all as weird and unique as the other. I went back to Meliodas. “She wasn’t on the second floor.” “I’ll hold onto this favour than.” I already felt my blood boiling with rage but I didn’t want to end up like those two other creatures. “She’s quite the beauty. Where did you meet her?” He looked at me and lost complete interest in the ladies. “She’s my favourite.” He started, he talked and talked and talked. A good hour past. “Anyways,” he said “I’m going to go look for her myself I haven’t seen her in too long.” It was too early. “Don’t you want to play a game?” I asked as he got up. He turned around and all his eyes stared at me and with a big smirk he asked “What kind of game?” “I was hoping you had one, I’d say a card game but I lost them in the snow.” “Snow? You’re not from here are? No matter, I like you. I got a game. In room 137 there are three chests. One is empty, one contains a wish and the third will rip you apart. Open one and return…if you can.” A wish? Seems worth it. “Sounds fair.” “See you in a bit…or not.” He said as I left for the elevator again, I couldn’t see his face but I could feel his bloodred eye staring in my soul and his smile casting a long shadow past me. The hallways looked the same as the ones on the third floor. I quickly found the room, entered and saw the three chests. One looked old, one was as clean as the room and one was made of stone. I closed the door and whispered “Emantur Ligna Lapis.” I shaped the stone in such way that it that it would show the inside without opening the lid. It was empty. That left the old one and the clean one. My logic was that the one that would shred me to bits wouldn’t be able to be cleaned so I opened the clean one it latched onto my left arm. A mimic. My blood dripped from my armour.

Page 4 Skin

To avoid any attention I ignored the pain and kept my shouts sealed in. And whispered with a shaky voice “Ignis Corporis”, powerful flames ejected from all over my body and the mimic was set on fire but it resisted so I laid my right hand on It and whispered “Ignis Fragor” and the wood turned to ashes as a blast of fire was shot from my hand. My arm was bleeding but the pain did not bother me, I felt worse before. And now at least my armour had a bit of colour. When I looked for the third chest the room was empty except for the ashes. I guess the rules only applied if the imps could see it being done. “I see you chose the mimic.” Meliodas laughed when I returned. “Quite lucky to be alive.” He continued. “If you like I can give you a second chance, but this time there’s a small fee to pay if you want to play.” A big smirk crossed his face sideways as his bloodred eye grew in size. “What’s the price?” “I’m looking for a new skin, and I really like you. I’d take it after you opened a chest. Most painful of operations… but with a wish you could achieve absolute power.” I thought of ways around the fee and thought of several ways around it. “I accept.” His smile grew bigger and he whispered “You know what to do. Room 665.” When I entered that room it was different than all the others I’ve seen. The floor was made of bone and was covered in blood and bodies laid piled up in a corner of the room. Again three chests but this time there was a guard. An armoured humanoid creature, it stood there leaning on its two handed longsword. “Hello there darling. I’m lady Fiora. Meliodas sent you?” “Yes, lady Fiora.” I’m always polite when speaking to someone who could so easily destroy me. “No magic, no second choices, no running away. Choose one and then pay the price.” One chest was made of bone and was as bloody as the room, one was made of plated steel and the third was made of flesh. I’d melt the steel one if Fiora wasn’t there. I knew it wasn’t the bone one that had the same texture as the floor, I learnt from the last room that mimics adapted themselves to match the room. I grabbed my lucky coin, a coin a close friend gave to me, made of mithril. A metal that absorbed magic. I threw it in the air and as I prepared my hand to catch it, it fell by the flesh chest. “I choose the flesh chest.” She told me to open it and so I did. A blinding light came from the chest as I opened it. “Make a wish.” Fiora said. “I-I…” I wasn’t sure what to wish for. “Yes?” she asked. “I to know everything possible of this world.” The light from the chest enveloped me and it felt warm and comforting. I looked at Fiora and knew all there was to now about her, where she got her armour from, what she was, I could think of a million different spells, handy spells, weak spells, forbidden spells, I could tell what species were laying dead in the corner, I knew everything. “Take my hand.” She said. I knew I had to pay the price give up my skin, but I also knew that I could replace it with other, more useful things. Not only that but a deal with a demon must be met otherwise they’d gather a group and murder many people I care for and it would be physically impossible to protect everyone at the same time. So I took her hand and I was teleported to a room and attached to a table. Meliodas was there with his skinning knife and a smile even bigger than earlier. “Congratulations, my friend your wish has been granted. As we agreed on I will now take your skin.” Normally no human like me would survive a full body skinning but these two demons used spells and magic to keep me alive and awake. So I felt every cut of the searing hot blade melting through my body and as much as I screamed they wouldn’t stop until they were done. They’d made sure I wouldn’t move with a paralysis spell and with each scream of agony his smile would grow bigger and bigger, I could hear him giggle sometimes. I know he had casted a spell to keep me awake and conscious at all times. “No worries, we’re half way through.” He said after what felt for like an eternity. Fiora grabbed me and turned me over carefully to not ruin my skin. I could feel splinters from the table sticking to my muscle tissue and making it’s way towards the bone. But the knife made me forget about the splinters. When he was done he teleported me back to the room and let me go.