[RP] The Inn of Peace - IoP (Open to all)

[Gren_Eckener]

Bill held up a page, which was emblazoned with what seemed to be a perpetually-smoldering symbol. "My underlings...and their bind with mortals. Contracts for souls. Do not touch them."

Zippo tottered up to Victoria and plopped before her, staring hungrily.  

[Gareus Fletcher]

Bure looked over them with slowly widening eyes of wonder.. quickly followed into a disbelief in the danger of touching them.

"Sounds boring as moles."  

[Azana Brown]

Victoria scowled at the two talking. One because of the demonic contracts (though probably much more honest than ones made by man), and the other because he was so dismissive of them. Shaking her head, she stood and made her way upstairs for some peace and quiet, ignoring the small thing that had approached her. Anything she had left behind was his for the taking.

Tyler, by this point, had made his way into Max's unlocked room. She had to have a floor plan of the place somewhere; he'd need it to get the coordinates right. No doubt the man had security, and they would just be an inconvenience. As he searched, though, his eyes wandered to the computer screen and a small prompt box.

"...remote access...?" He read over it quickly, scowling as he kicked aside a couple cans and sat on the cushion. "Like hell..." Something nagged at him about the attempting terminal address, but it didn't matter. Max was hospitalized, then her computer attacked. John was getting nothing on her...  

[Gren_Eckener]

"You'd be right." he replied, shuffling papers into a neat stack.

Zippo gladly devoured the fork.  

[Gareus Fletcher]

Bure stared at the papers and the man working them over, waiting for a moment, then taking a seat next to him, not looking at him quite yet. There was a petulance, very much his age. A poutiness to his tone.

"I wanna help."  

[Gren_Eckener]

Bill slowly turned to look at the fae, grip on his papers tightening slightly as a growl brewed in the bottom of his chest.

"...How, do you think?"  

[Gareus Fletcher]

Bure shrank back slightly as he heard it from deep inside the much larger person, but tried to put his most defiant face on as he stared up at the other.

"...Want a drink?"  

[Gren_Eckener]

(I really ought to post Bill's profile, huh?)

He grumbled, filing his contracts into a manilla envelope stamped in something Demonic, likely for another department. "...Coffee. Black. Thank you, little one."  

[Gareus Fletcher]

Bure looked up brightly to hear the request, dashing into the kitchen. He had to crawl onto the counter as he went up into the shelves to look for the coffee. A nose was stuck in a bag that sent it wriggling, his body jittering and little wings fluttering behind his ears as he came back down.

His voice sounded from the door.

"Heeeeeeey. How do you make coffeeeeeeee?"

(T'would be an idea. x3)  

[Gren_Eckener]

Bill rolled his eyes heavily, sending his files home in a wave of magic. Standing heavily, he lumbered to the kitchen, to the drink creating behemoth he'd become acquainted with, and hit a button. "This way."

(Once tektek's back up. He's a 6'6" slab of muscly devil with goaty legs and a scorpionish tail and solid black skin and orange goat eyes. He's currently wearing a pair of pants and a tie because humans like that sort of thing for (ceremonial) business affairs. He's Malachai's supervisor.)  

[Gareus Fletcher]

(Gotcha.)

Bure stood quietly, watching him as he started to press his finger against it, but waving him away when he started to do it.

"No, no...! I'mma do it."

With some effort, he'd reach up, pressing the button when on his tiptoes, watching the rest of the coffee pour out into the mug. Behind him, he flapped a hand to dismiss the demon.

"Go ahead, go ahead, it's coming, it's coming..."

When he had it filled, he held it by the sides, wincing and crying out. People drank things this hot...? He got oven mitts and held the cup on each side, moving back out to where he would have shooed Bill away, placing it on the table now empty of his papers and putting his hands on his hips with a defiant nod of triumph.

"Good-- Dah!"

He searched his pockets, a frustration.

"I don't think I have any black dye... You want it black right...?"  

[Gren_Eckener]

An eyeroll was implied as he took up the steaming cup and drank it wholly in one swallow. "Black is a figure of speech...it is meant to say that there is no sweetness nor cream to it."  

[Azana Brown]

There came a light knock on Gren's apartment door, Azana waiting outside with Sosol. She carried a rather uncharacteristic bouquet of flowers and a thoughtful expression. "Hey, Gren...? Can I ask a favor...?"

Sosol had wanted one, as well, but he knew that this was a tad more important. They'd make it to dinner with Mom, he was certain. Az's speed had improved considerably in the past couple of years.  

[Gren_Eckener]

The door opened after a moment, the crooked smile of the Innkeeper bared. Though he'd been rather reclusive of late, he looked fairly healthy. For him, anyway.

"Of course! What can I do for you, Az?" he grinned. "Wanna come in, or is it a rush job?"  

[Azana Brown]

Azana stepped into the apartment momentarily. "A bit of both, actually. Our contribution to dinner tonight took a bit longer than we anticipated. And there's a stop along the way I really need to make." She was surprisingly reluctant to ask, considering all the favors they had done one another in the past. Honestly, she would have made the trip by the skies, but the breeze would do nothing to keep dinner warm.

"So, um, I was wondering if I could hitch a ride with Ty's other transporter. I would have asked him, but I'm sure he's still with Max at the hospital."

Sol nodded along, a covered dish in two oven mitts. Between the warmth of the mittens and the time spent making it, both he and Az were a bit sweaty, but that was nothing a quick shower or a flight around the block couldn't fix. "We can make our own way back, if that helps. I doubt Mom or Dad would mind having you for dinner either way, but it's busy taking care of a place like this."