Payne Zile Queen

Defiant Demon

Last Login:
May 16th, 2021




Gender: Male

Age: 30
Country: Netherlands

Signup Date:
February 20, 2019


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05/03/2021 10:19 PM 

Reunions - ft [𝙳𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝙺𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝]

 
Reunions
Response to [𝙳𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝙺𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝]
It had been a rather quiet night in Gotham so far.

The vigilante known as the Nightstalker had been on his own patrol route around the Burrows before moving on over to the other parts of the city. He knew a couple of others were around, and stayed out of their own territory unless backup was called for, and the Demon was more than fine with that unspoken rule at this point in time.
Ever since it was all over the comms that Stephanie was brought back to the land of the living, he hadn’t heard anything from her or the Bat family in general. Not that he was exactly in their good graces but he figured he’d at least hear something if there was news regarding the blonde. But alas, silence ensued and he figured that if there was something that they would need his help with, that they’d come knocking. Wouldn’t be the first time that Stephanie came back, though it had definitely been a couple of months that he had seen her. Considering her body was gone the moment he came back to the museum after the horror that was Manhattan.

Shaking the thoughts out of his head, Payne responded to a scream that was heard in one of Gotham’s many alleyways. Of course someone would try to mug a woman for a purse filled with more junk than money. Teleporting and reappearing in front of the dude who had snatched his newest prize he felt the young man crashing into his chest. Crossing his arms he simply let his body do the talking. Gray armor paired with a fully covered helmet that was designed much like one of the many cowls of the Bat. He watched the young man shiver in fear as he dropped the purse and tried to run away. Only to crash back into the Demon again who simply shook his head once more.

“Really kid? Twice?" He watched how the kid's eyes widened in fear, and then quickly the smell of urine was caught. The kid pissed himself and it made the Demon understand that this wasn't an act done out of bad intention but pure desperation.
"Go to the GCPD and turn yourself in, before you make me come after you.”

He spoke, his voice robotic thanks to the modulator inside the helmet. And he then stepped aside to see the kid run in the direction of the police building right away. Nodding some he grabbed the purse and walked into the alleyway, seeing a woman in fear and crying against a wall. Turning off the modulator to not sound as frightening, the Demon dropped the purse at the woman’s feet before extending his hand to help her up.

“Streets like these might be a good shortcut, but they’re also filled with the vermin of the city. Best bet is to walk the main roads during these hours, especially when alone.” He inspected the woman through his lenses and didn’t notice any sort of wounds. She was just shaken up and that was a win in his book. Meant the kid was going to be walking free sooner rather than later with hopefully a turned leaf when it comes to the life of crime.
“If I were you I’d call a friend or a taxi for the ride home.”
He waited for a couple of seconds until the woman had made a phone call and then turned around to thank him. Teleporting out of the alleyway before she could’ve done so face to face. He still picked up on it, but he had heard sirens in the background as well.

Making his way across rooftops towards the crime scene that was soon called in over comms, he spotted her in her suit. Quickly taking a few steps back he waited on the rooftop in hopes that he would see her. And that hope was answered quickly as the blonde Bat appeared in front of him after grappling up on the roof as well.

"You've gotten sloppy, Hellboy. I could hear you down there."

He wanted to say something, but got cut off by her nodding her head to get away from the GCPD. He nodded along and followed her.
As they both arrived he shoved her slightly after taking off his helmet to look her dead in her eyes. The comment she had made wouldn't have had such an effect on him if he wasn't there the night she had died.

"The first thing you're gonna say is 'I've gotten sloppy'? F*** you."

He growled soft, but once he didn’t hear her laugh or come up with a quippy remark, but sitting down instead. He studied her for a moment. Something was off, and this wasn’t Steph in the way that he knew the woman that he had called family. Watching her stare he listened to her as she mentioned she also made a joke towards her boyfriend.
Nodding soft he sat down next to her and looked at the red and blue lights together with her.

"I knew you'd come back, you know. You're too stubborn to stay dead."
He spoke softly, with a hint of happiness in his voice. He wasn’t afraid to show that he was actually quite relieved to see her back. Even though he still had plenty of questions he’d want to ask.

How, why, and why is she in her suit? She should be resting and figuring things out for herself. But then again, it was Steph that they were talking about. Stubborn little sh*t could give himself a run for his money in terms of not listening and just doing whatever.

He saw that something was off. They knew each other long enough to tell if either of them were going through something. He watched her and let out a soft sigh before he spoke softly.
"Ok, is this about what's going on over there? I heard the call in. Trying to work out how to cover up for your boyfriend or something?"
And he watched her shake her head in response.

“It wasn’t Chomps…” she almost whispered.

“I think it was me…”

Hearing the fear in her voice, the Demon wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her in for a small but firm hug. He knew she wasn’t one for touch but at the moment he didn’t really care. His surrogate sister needed him and she could jump high or low, he wasn’t going to ignore that little fact.

“We’ll figure it out… For now, I’m just happy you’re there, and know that I got your back no matter what, Blondie.”

03/22/2021 10:58 PM 

Prompt: Boop/Touch ft Slightly Murderous

A prompt
Boop/Touch
ft. Slightly Murderous 🖕🏽
“BOY!!!”

With a loud growl, his sister Mazikeen barged into the boy’s chambers once again. Seemingly pissed and her frustration was clearly aimed at him. Sharpening his blade, the boy ended it with one final stroke of the stone he was using, getting up from sitting on his knees and turning around to face his sister.

“Mazikeen?” He raised his brow, keeping his voice low while the doors were opened up still. It was still a secret that the son of Lucifer and Lilith had gotten the ability to speak. A choice that he had made himself until he himself was ready to talk out loud.

“What’s up?” He continued, crossing his arms in front of his chest and tilting his head to the side in curiosity. Only to then lean back to avoid one of his sisters famous right hooks. “And what was that for?”

“They saw you carrying me away!” She growled, and he knew exactly what she was talking about. Her last fight with his father. Raising another brow he didn’t quite understand her seething rage for it all. “And?” He asked her, and with it, he stepped to the side to avoid one of her legs sweeping up to kick him.

“Maze.. Cut it out!” He avoided one of her attacks again, his voice louder now before teleporting out of the way, reappearing and closing his doors so he had the feeling that he could talk freely for once.
“They’ve also seen you carrying me out plenty of times. Both because of me losing from you, or because I couldn’t move anymore after fighting. They still fear you as much you want.” He tried to reason with his rage filled sister, not something he had ever tried to do so before. But it was one of her lessons, and he had learned himself that you don’t hurt the ones who cared for you.

Stepping from the left, ducking and moving his body to the right. Avoiding both punches of Mazikeen, he got up and tapped her nose with his right index finger. “Boop.” He smirked, knowing he could be just as cocky as Mazikeen. To which she snarled and grabbed one of her demon knives. Slashing towards him, cutting him over his left eye.
Which got met with a growl and the boy responded with a kick to Mazikeens stomach to push her back. Teleporting once more to reappear out of her way, grabbing the sword he had just sharpened and walking up over towards her, pointing the blade at his sister’s throat. A small victory that he wouldn’t ever acknowledge, many years later. His left eye started bleeding more, covering the side of his face before the boy wiped the blood away, looking at his sister and throwing the sword away again. They were Demons, to fight was in their blood, but she was family. His sister. He wouldn’t go as far as to kill her, never her.

Mazikeen got up and looked at the boy in shock. Knowing that was a wound that wasn’t ever going to heal in the way any others would’ve. A weapon forged in hellfire had the ability to maim and kill a Demon with ease. Maze grabbed the boy by his wrist and forced him to look into her eyes. Showing off that she was calmed down now and back in control of her rage. With a sigh, she brushed her thumb over the cut that she had made. “I’m so sorry…”

“Pain…” The boy responded, seemingly having gone back to a more feral and childlike state of mind, in shock of what had happened. Mazikeen nodded. “That’s pain. Yes.” And then the room fell quiet for an agonizing minute.

“I’m pain… yes…” He whispered, looking at his sister with a blood covered eye. And while Maze tried to correct him in his speech, the boy shook his head. “Pain.. I… Am Pain..” his words sounded broken, and Mazikeen nodded softly.

“Yes.. You’re Pain..” She sighed, pulling his brother closer. Embracing him and showing off some of that care that only he had gotten to experience.

01/28/2021 04:19 PM 

A Magic Trick (ft ʙᴏᴏᴢʏᴀᴜɴᴛ.)

Do you want to see
A Magic Trick
Featuring ʙᴏᴏᴢʏᴀᴜɴᴛ.
It was one of those lazy Sunday mornings within the Academy of the Dark Arts run by both of his mothers. Within a private quarters only accessible by the direct family of Zelda Spellman, the whole family had breakfast together. Zelda, Lilith, Risse and Payne.
Once tables were cleared with the use of magic, Payne had grabbed a deck of cards from one of his pockets. Shuffling the deck while keeping his sleight of hand on pique, a practice that Risse had often seen whenever they’d have breakfast. A practice that the Demon enjoyed to do. Not only would it help keep his hands and fingers nimble, he was also able to put on a bit of a show to display his skills within practical magic.

Zelda had lowered her newspaper only to look at her stepson with a glare. Payne smiled some as he tilted his head slightly.
“What’s wrong? Anything I did?”
Zelda stayed silent but only eyed at the cards in hand that Payne now had extended across the table with a smooth flourish in the shape of a rainbow. Catching the eyes of his step-mother. Payne’s smile only grew a little bit. “This?” he asked, while flicking a single card, which caused a wave across the deck, flipping every card over to show their respective faces. Lilith had walked in with a mug of coffee in hand and smirked slightly. Like mother, like son, it seemed. Sitting down at the edge of the table, she rested the mug on her stomach while watching her wife glare at her son, seemingly feeling like she had witnessed something like this before.

“Can I indulge you in a bit of a magic trick?” Payne asked Zelda, and with a stern expression on her face, Zelda turned a page of her newspaper and answered with a solid “No.”

“Aw come on.. You’ll make your son happy if you did?”

“No….”

“Come on… Pick a card…”

Lilith’s smirk seemed to have grown a few inches while she took a sip of her coffee. Risse took some blood and then eyed her mother in law.
“He’s not gonna stop until you’re going to do so…” She muttered and then stood up. Kissing her husband on her cheek before making her way over to the library. Books weren’t going to be shelved by themselves, and Risse was going to have a fit if her Library wasn’t going to be in tip-top shape for the next school day. Smiling some at the kiss, Payne leaned back and kissed her sweetly before she walked off.
“See you later at training babe, and remember. NO HEELS!”
He said to his wife who answered with a chuckle.

Picking his attention back to his cards and both of his mothers, Payne smirked some before continuing with his persuasion for Zelda to pick a card.

“I’m not picking a card.” Zelda muttered while taking a drag of her cigarette, the newspaper going back up to shield herself from that annoying smirk of her son.

“Awe come on… Please?”

“No!”

“Pick a card mom.” Payne’s smirk was almost audible. He was clearly enjoying this little game that was going on between him and Zelda. And with a grunt of annoyance, Zelda lowered the newspaper and looked at her son with a raised brow, eyes locked onto the Demon as if she was asking if he was serious about all of this.

“Please?”

“FINE!” Zelda crashed her newspaper back onto the table and Payne smiled even more. Grabbing the deck of cards in one swift movement and folding them all together within the palm of his hand. Extending them all face down within his hands in that same rainbow shape.

“Pick a card.. Any card..” He said charmingly, relishing in the fact that he had won. Lilith seemed to enjoy this as much as her son. While Zelda’s look was one that could’ve killed the younger Demon twenty times over. While hesitantly picking a card by tapping her finger on it.

“No no. You got to pull it out. Make sure that I don’t see which one it is!” Lilith chuckled as she listened to her son and watched her wife respond to it all. A low growl escaped Zelda’s lips while taking a drag of her cigarette, and pulling a card out of his hands, looking at it.

“Okay. Remember well which card you picked, and then put it back.” Payne closed his eyes and looked away, making sure that it wouldn’t be possible for him to see wherever Zelda would push the card back into his hands. Seemingly annoyed.

Once she had done so, Payne opened his eyes and looked back at his step-mother. He cut the deck after folding the cards together. Two times, three times. And then he shuffled the deck by cutting it in two, and flicked every card together in a quick movement to make the deck whole again. Spreading the cards out he looked at his mother. And then back to Zelda while his smirk didn’t seem to fade from his lips.

“Alright. Now while reading your energy...”

“Oh for -Satan’s- Sake!!!!” Zelda yelled, while Lilith seemed to be struggling to contain her laughter.

Visibly a little bit confused. Payne cleared his throat for a moment and then nodded. “Alright. Weeelllll instead.” He picked up the cards again and then simply looked over at Zelda before pulling a card out. Showing her the face of the card.

“Is this your card?” Payne’s voice rose questionably. Tilting his head slightly while remaining eye contact with Zelda. Who still seemed to be unamused, but her lips had risen to a bit of a smirk. “No.. No it’s not.”

While Payne’s eyebrow rose as well, his face showing visible confusion, he then turned his palm inward and looked over at the card.

“Oh.. My deck’s malfunctioning again. It does that on occasion.”

He put the card back in his deck and shook his hand. As if it would change anything at all. He then pulled the same card and showed it to Zelda once more.

“Is this it?” He asked, and Zelda looked as if she was trying to hide her laugh at her son’s failure. “No.. It’s the same card..”

“Ah damnit….” Payne grunted and then flicked the card from the back with his free hand using two fingers. Which then showed off a face of confusion from his stepmother as the right card seemed to appear out of nowhere after Payne flicked the card.

Payne smirked widely, while he noticed the cogs turning within his step-mothers head. He knew he had gotten her.

“Do you know how I did it?” He asked, and Zelda simply put her newspaper back up between them. Staying silent while he could tell that she was still thinking about it all.

“It’s magic.” He answered after a solid minute of silence. To which Zelda slammed down her paper and looked over at her wife.
“You’ve put him up to this, didn’t you?” Lilith and Payne both chuckled slightly, but then Payne shook his head.
“No idea why you’d assume that, but no. Why?”

Zelda’s eyes almost spat fire while looking at her step-son once more.
“Get away from me. And YOU.” Zelda’s eyes shot back at Lilith.

Lilith laughed loudly and Payne simply grabbed his deck and put it back in his pocket. “Alright, I’ll be at the gym. If you wanna know how I did it.” He smirked some more as he got up and put the chair back under the table. Walking away while listening to both of his mothers squabble. Zelda seemingly enraged and Lilith simply laughing.

01/15/2021 02:28 PM 

Atelophobia

The fear Of never
Atelophobia
being good enough
Atelophobia
A-tel-o-pho-bia

"Atelophobia is defined as the fear of not doing something right or the fear of never being good enough. In other words, it’s a fear of imperfection. Etymologically, the word atelophobia is composed of two Greek words: the prefix Atelo(s) means imperfect and the post-fix phobia means fear."

He had read it so many times, simply because it was a word that he felt in his core. A word that meant a lot more than he would ever dare to admit. And on occasion it would eat him up alive. He wasn't good enough. He was never good enough.

Once more, a restless night that haunted a Demon. Like there weren't enough nights already where he couldn't embrace the comfort of sleep. Sometimes looking up the definition of the word would help ease his mind to some extent. He could then see it, project it out of his mind. While still feeling it, he wouldn't beat himself up as much as he usually does. He even knows where it comes from, where it originated. And despite better relationships, the feeling of imperfection always lingered in his mind.

He wasn't worthy. An abomination, a mistake. While since recently he knew he was loved from the moment he was born, the question had rooted so deeply inside, that it had found a permanent place within the Demon's mind. Why wasn't he good enough?

He became the greatest warrior Hell had ever seen. And yet, he still wouldn't be seen by his parents. Why wasn't he good enough?

The boy was talented, the skills that he possessed were almost unnatural. The perfect specimen with unlimited potential.
Limited, by one simple question.
Why wasn't he good enough?

He had given himself his own name, denouncing the Morning Star. Because to some level, he wasn't good enough to own it.

He chose to become his own man, an avatar of freedom, choosing to not pursue his right on the throne as the True Prince. Because to some level, he wasn't good enough for that title.

Many of his breaks with Clarisse were his fault. She deserves better, he won't ever be good enough. And despite him growing as a person in the years until he met her, that fear always remained. It became a scar that isn't seen, yet it's the biggest one that he carries. He won't ever, be good enough.

Enrolled in the army, once again. Fighting for freedom, winning the war, fighting was what he was good at, a natural warrior. And yet, so many lives lost. And for many he blamed himself, he wasn't good enough.

He had saved many people over the years, both human and supernatural in form. But one mission cost the lives of millions of people, including his own. The bomb on Hiroshima had fallen. And he wasn't good enough to save them.

Back on Earth after many years in Hell again, Payne had to rebuild himself, becoming his own person once more. Finding purpose and a means to heal and grow within the ranks of the Batman and his family. But he got kicked out, because he was too reckless. He wasn't good enough.

The Demon strives for perfection, even though he will never achieve it, because his image of perfection is unreachable, he won't ever be good enough. But he had started to learn new lessons, each and every time that he had failed. To become a better man, a better person, a better friend, a husband. And his greatest achievement. He became a son.
And yet, there is always this lingering feeling.
That he won't ever be good enough.

Despite all of his progress over the many years that he had lived. Despite all the lessons he had learned, all the achievements that he had made, the people he had saved, he couldn't ever beat that one thing that will keep him fighting for the rest of his life, for better or for worse.

Nothing he will do, will ever be good enough.
It's his curse.
His burden to bear.
He won't ever be good enough.

01/09/2021 07:54 PM 

A surprise for the wife.

A Handmade SurpriseWWW.ROLEPLAYER.ME/PAYNEQUEEN"Defiant Demon""To Define Is To Limit"
It had been quite a while since Payne had been spending some time within his workshop in his New Orleans home.

Risse had been out of town, and everything else seemed to be rather quiet. No Paranormal cases to be solved, it seemed that the Salvatore school had everything handled within this little area. So the Demon tried to spend some time doing minor things. Sharpen his knives, cleaned up the few guns that did lay around the house. And the house itself had been in top top shape. Clean as a whistle, as one would call it.
During his cleaning, he had found a rusted over knife that was previously owned by Risse’s sister.

“I hate it.” She had said more than once, but at the same time, she couldn’t get rid of it. It seemed to be something typical of Clarisse, no matter how much she hated her sister, she couldn’t ever let something go that belonged to a family member, no matter how bad that connection was.
The knife was dull, rusted over, the wooden handle was brittle, the paint had chipped away. It was in a pretty bad shape. A smirk covered the Demon’s lips as he got an idea. It certainly allowed him to kill some time over the next coming days while he was still alone in the house.
Moving over to his workshop, with the dull knife in hand, he first grabbed a metal brush to clean up the loose rust and dirt that had attached itself to the blade. Making sure that it was clear of anything that could potentially mess up what Payne’s plan was.

Moving over to the belt sander, he turned the thing on and pressed the flat ends of the blade against it, cleaning it from all the rust up until there was bare metal left over in a rough pattern. Something he’d have to sand later on, with the planning that the Demon had in mind for the knife. It had taken a couple of hours of solid grinding, but Payne was finally satisfied with the end result for now. Packing the knife with simple painters tape to prevent it from scratching up more, Payne put the packed up metal in a screw attached to one of his many work tables.

Grabbing a hammer and a chisel to knock the handle loose. It was simpler than he had expected, the wood was so brittle that it shattered apart with just a few precision hits.
Smiling at the end result, he looked around his workshop to see what kind of wood he could use to make the new wooden handle. Choosing for a combination of smoked oak and pear wood, the Demon cut a few pieces to size and put the slices apart for a moment.

First the tang needed the same treatment as the rest of the blade, so it got ground up until it was clean from any rust that might’ve seeped through. After this the blade needed to be heat treated again, and tempered back to it’s full hardness. Not something unusual for someone who made his own throwing knives on the regular, he put the blade in the homemade blast furnace for heat treatment. And after a couple of hours, quenched it in oil and put it in a small toaster oven for tempering.
The evening had fallen, but it wasn’t late enough for Payne to fall asleep just yet.

Taking the blade out of the oven he tested it with a file. The sound of glass was heard, meaning it was hardened to perfection. A smile appeared on Payne’s face after the good work he had put in thus far. Now it was time for sanding by hand, this was what he knew would take the most time, but if he sanded up until 220 grit for now, he’d finish the rest in the morning. Starting off with an 80 grit, skipping over to 120 until all the rough scratches were taken out, and then over towards a 220 for a really fine, almost mirrored finish. In the meantime he had drilled three holes in the tang of the blade, this would be for the screws he’d have to create for himself with the lathe, to hold the wood together. There was a long piece of brass rod that had been laying there for a while, which would be perfect for this almost rustic combination that he was going for in the end result.

3 am, it was a good time to go to bed for now. Payne saw the finish line already, but wanted to be well rested until he’d start making fatal mistakes. Going to bed alone for the night, before texting his wife to have a good night herself.
The next morning came, and despite not being an early bird, the Demon woke up around 8. Well rested for once, it seemed. Making himself some coffee and creating a Full English for breakfast. Bacon, sausages, some poached eggs, the beans that Risse always refused to eat, and some toast to boot. Missing the tomatoes and ignoring the mushrooms, not liking those himself. A good and hearty breakfast for the Demon to consume while drawing up an example of the handle on a piece of paper.
Finally satisfied with the end result, Payne got up and went back into his workshop. After having spent the night and thinking of fresh ideas, he opted not to go for a mirror finish as he initially planned on doing. The duller finish that it had now would cause reflections on the blade to be a lot less noticeable as it would be with the finish he had initially intended.

Sharpening up the blade and causing there to be a prominent edge to be seen, the knife started to look a lot less like the knife that was owned by Vivienne Du-Volde. Might’ve been a bit too manly for Risse’s taste, but Payne had seen her admiration once before with a blade of a similar design, so he figured it would've been a nice surprise nonetheless.

Walking back into the house, he grabbed his computer and printed out a symbol that Risse could easily recognize out on a piece of paper. Cutting it out with an exacto knife, he prepared it for an acid edge. The symbol was close towards the handle, etched into the metal.

Smiling brightly, Payne went to grab a brass bar and filed it into shape to be attached at the tang before the wooden handle would complete the design that he had gone for. Sandwiching the smoked oak between the two planks of peach wood gluing it together. He took the time it needed for the glue to dry, to create a set of screws that would hold the wood in place with the tang. 6 pieces, all made in brass, testing the screws first to see that they’d all fit, he smiled brightly to see the end result.

Another few hours had passed while he was busy on the lathe, having failed a few times before but now finally happy with how it ended up looking, Payne hammered the handle in place, and drilled three holes through the wood to match the 3 holes that were already in place in the tang. Press fitting the screws into place before screwing them together, and filing away the evidence of it ever looking like one. Three brass bars on the outside, 6 simple screws, unable to come apart on the inside. Creating a stronger bond without the use of epoxy glue. A small little bit of creativity that he himself would only know of, and appreciate.

Finally it came down to rasping the handle into shape completely, making a nice ergonomic grip within the wood, and finishing it up with linseed oil for a nice glossy finish.

2 days, and about 14 hours in total of work, the Demon smiled at the end result. A bowie hunter knife with a Fleur-de-Lis etched into the blade. Created out of an old knife from Vivienne Du-Volde. A piece of history, remade to form something for his wife that she might not hate as much. With the finished result, he walked back to the kitchen and placed the knife on the table. Waiting for his wife to come home, hoping she’d be happy with the surprise he’d left her.

“I knew nothing but shadows and I thought them to be real.”

12/31/2020 08:46 PM 

b.l.a.c.k (ft. D Λ Я K)

Welcome to my DomainWWW.ROLEPLAYER.ME/PAYNEQUEEN"Defiant Demon""To Define Is To Limit"
It had been quite a while since Mammon had reached out towards Payne in regards of is cousin.
Something didn’t seem right about him and Mammon had mentioned an internal struggle that the fellow Demon seemed to be experiencing, and it was all for an Angel for some reason? Something about that didn’t seem right, and the shift in the balance that his cousin seemed to have created was already starting to be noticeable to the son of the Devil.

The Archangel Raphael had given Asmodeus quite a beating not too long ago, and the crater that Payne’s cousin had been left for dead in had given Payne plenty of material to eventually track his cousin down to where he had been hiding along with this lovely Angel that Ash seemed to have grown quite fond of. Payne had to admit, she looked cute. But then again, beauty was something common when it came to the Divine. Payne had entered the lovely little mating hole that Asmodeus seemed to share with Selah in these hidden grounds.

With a simple throw of a pebble against Ash’s temple, he woke up his cousin who seemed to be in a daze. Immediately threatened by the sight of his cousin, he stood up and rushed to get a firm grip on Payne’s neck. With a smirk he looked down as Ash pulled the Demon up and pinned him down against the wall.
“Happy to see me, cuz?” Payne smirked as he nodded towards Asmodeus’ naked frame.
“How ‘bout dinner first? You see, I’m not that easy as I seem.” He quipped before he teleported, reappearing behind Asmodeus and pinning his cousin down with his chest pressed against the wall. Returning the favor of violence.
“Now, we don’t want to wake up the one that’s causing all of this commotion, all I’m here for is a little chat with you. So get your ass dressed, and meet me outside. Hawaii is lovely this early in the morning.”

And with an extra push towards Ash’s back, Payne walked away and waited up at the balcony of the house that the Angel and Demon ‘couple’ had chosen to occupy for the time being. Watching the sun rise up from the ocean view, Payne pointed to a bottle of scotch and a glass that stood on a table nearby. Holding his own glass filled with the amber liquor within the hand that he had used to point. Waiting for Ash to join in, Payne leaned forward, shifting his weight to a more comfortable position while resting his elbows on the glass paned balcony rails.

“Mammon, Druilla, and even Raphael. And now you’re all bundled up with her on your own little slice of heaven. You haven’t noticed the difference that you’ve caused within the balance, have you? Choosing for the Light doesn’t mean that you’re suddenly a changed person, Ash.” Payne’s head looked over at his cousin, who seemed to be surprised at what Payne had said. “Yeah, I know. No, no one else does. Otherwise you wouldn’t be seeing me with a glass of our favorite drink in our hand.” Payne rose his glass and clinked it against that of Ash, before taking a sip of his own once more.

“Listen Ash. I’m not here to pull you away from her, you got my word with that. But one thing that I will be pulling you away from, is the thought that you seem to have that with your choice, everything is fine. Because trust me cuz, it’s not. Balance is slowly shifting, and while we were able to stop the Sins back in L.A. This isn’t something that will be that simple. Look around you for a moment, and tell me that everything seems to be fine.”

As Payne finished his sentence, he pointed out at a flock of birds that seemed to be flying North at a time they should be flying elsewhere. Palm trees dying at a time they shouldn’t. Along with other minor changes that seemed insignificant at first glance. “Balance is shifting, because you think it’s okay for a Demon to simply deny their heritage.”

“And what’s the difference with me, in comparison to you, cousin? Last time I checked, you like to call yourself the Defiant Demon, after all. Doing all those things for humanity and such. Making quite a name for yourself as the Devil’s son, might I add.” Ash took a swig of the alcohol, his voice laced with slight disgust.

Payne simply smirked, he knew that this was coming. It was the very reason that he was the one who sought Ash out in this little hidey hole.
“Because I still maintain the unwritten laws, cousin. As you’ve heard me mention if a few times. Balance is a rather important thing to uphold. Demons are Demons, Angels are Angels. That what lies in between is a gray area for a lot of mundanes, monsters and other creatures that simply want to live life in a way we do see fit. You’re mentioning all the things I do, but do you really know about all the things I do? Because while I give, I also take. While I protect humans from the supernatural world, I still know that I am also still one of those, and can be very dangerous to their mundane little minds.” With a sigh, Payne finished his drink before he continued to talk.
“I’m not choosing light or dark. I choose for myself.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ash asked Payne with a raised brow.

“It means that while I do whatever I feel like doing, I’m not pretending that I’m part of the light, Ash. I’m not pretending that because I’m in love with an Angel, that I’m immediately part of it all. You’re still a Demon at heart. That darkness, the shadows. It calls for you and you can feel its pull as well. I bet that it’s causing you to have quite a lot of trouble with sleep lately. Flashes of murders that you didn’t commit? Bloodlust? That itch whenever you hold anything similar to a blade? Trust me when I say it’s something that’ll only get worse for yourself, and for the balance of the world if you keep up with this charade. Asmodeus.”

Payne pulled a throwing knife that he had concealed within his belt, and threw it towards his cousin, who caught it with ease.
“And your next instinct is to throw it back, right at my throat.” Payne responded, while pointing at the place that he figured Ash would’ve gone for.
“That’s a part of you that’ll only get worse if you choose to side with something that’s not within your path. There are lines we are not supposed to cross, Ash. Even I, a free man, know what lines not to cross. And you, my dear cousin, are crossing one that’s very deadly for you, for me, and for that winged beauty resting inside. You love her? Protect her from everything that would possibly come at her? Then take a few steps back and think, Ash. Choosing the light isn’t for you, you’re a Sin.” Payne took a few steps forward and grabbed Ash’s shoulders, while crimson red orbs looked into those of his cousin.
“I get your choice, trust me I am about the only Demon who does. But choosing the light, choosing something that isn’t meant for you, will eventually kill all of us if you choose to continue on with it. The shadows are a part of you, and as someone who feels that same pull. I can tell you that it’s something you have to embrace, and not neglect. Free Will is for all of us, but it doesn’t mean that we can deny who we are as a person. Humans can do it as much as they want, since they’re not tethered to that what we’re connected to. When we step out of line, the world is at stake. And what you want to protect Selah from, will be that which you become yourself.”

Payne took a deep breath and then let go of his cousin, looking at the sun that was slowly rising. “Don’t make me come after you Ash. You’re smart. Don’t pretend to be something you’re not, when you know from deep within that the choice you decided to make for her, isn’t right.” He turned his head back towards Asmodeus as he spoke, a small glint of the sun hitting the Demon’s crimson hues. Concern was clear on Payne’s features as he then took a few steps away from Ash.
“This path will lead to nothing but chaos, and not the kind that we Demons are known for. It’s not for you. Now go back inside, she’s waking up. Think about your steps, Ash. It’s not as simple as you thought it to be. Listen to your instincts, and respond accordingly. Don’t fight what’s inside.” Payne smiled slightly, nodding towards Ash as he then raised two fingers and saluted his cousin. “Risse says hi. Be careful out there. See you around.” And with his last words, the Demon disappeared into thin air, leaving Ash on his own on the balcony.
“I knew nothing but shadows and I thought them to be real.”

[ This blog post is viewable to friends only ]

12/08/2020 12:33 PM 

To Say Goodnight (Updated)

To say GoodnightWWW.ROLEPLAYER.ME/PAYNEQUEEN"Defiant Demon""To Define Is To Limit"
It had been ages, almost 300 years since Payne had ever even heard of the Powers, and the Fallen one of them that resided in the depths of Hell.
Taking place as one of its Princes and a President so strong that she would even make someone like Trump feel powerless. Avnas, a name that could strike fear in any of the lower beings that wandered the grounds of Hell, a place that Payne Zile Queen, son of Lucifer Morningstar and Lilith once called home. Although not anymore, Gotham was where he resided and it was a Hell on Earth if one could ever describe it as anything more positive. A sh*tstain, doomed to gloom forever. But a lovely place to call home, and the Demon considered himself a true Gothamite.

But this wasn’t about Payne, but it was rather about the look of shock that he had once he had heard that Amy had been appearing in and around the dark, gothic inspired city. A flaming fire that could grant wishes. Familiars and the like, knowing that they could potentially be quite dangerous for the people who would’ve gotten them.

It was like finding a needle in a haystack in terms of clues, anything that the Fallen one could’ve possibly left behind, or maybe a sighting from a passing person. Plenty of those weird Bible thumpers running around here who always claim to see everything Divine.

Yet they could never find out that a Demon was running among them and saving their city.

Hypocrites.

It took the demon more than just a couple of weeks to finally gather something together that was large enough to form a clue. A lead of a possible summoning happening once again in the next few hours. Location? Crime Alley. The very place where the journey of his mentor started. It was almost... Symbolic? Or something like that anyway. There was something about the location and knowing the history of Crime Alley that felt like it meant something more.

Preparing for his upcoming mission, Payne suited up in his dark gray coloured, armoured body suit which consisted of a Tri-weave created out of Kevlar, Titanium and Nomex material. The shoulder pauldrons being attached permanently into the suit made the Demon look a bit broader, and gave him an extra amount of protection around the shoulder area. Having learned from the past, being flung around against walls with extending pipes embedded into them. Painful way to get your shoulder pierced, that was for sure.

To finish his stealthy yet hellish ensemble, Payne grabbed the helmet that was shaped like Batman’s cowl. An old experiment of Bruce which covered the entire face instead of having a fancy hole for your lips to be seen in. He wasn’t one to kiss during a mission anyway.
(Unlike some Bats..)
Neon-red eyes lit up as soon as the Demon placed his helmet on his head, showing the connection to the Belfry by the Heads up Display that was built within.

Then the Demon finally grabbed his weaponry. Some shuriken, throwing knives, flashbang and smoke pellets, and any other little gadget that anyone who was even remotely familiar with the Batman and his armoury could think of. Finally grabbing his custom made broad sword.

A fellow warrior amongst the Bat-Family. A weapon among his peers in Hell, but entirely his own person, the Defiant Demon got out of his little hidey hole that was known as the Belfry, and made his way towards his place of destination. Crime Alley.

Once arrived, sneaking across the rooftops and hiding between the many gargoyles that decorated the city skyline, Payne kept a close look at the little alleyway which held the famous story of the Wayne Murders.

20 minutes of sitting still among the stone demons, there was finally action on the streets. But Payne wasn’t prepared to see who he saw. Or rather the duo that he had his eyes on.

Brother Blood and Felix Faust? Why would they be in Gotham? Better yet, what would they want with Amy? She wouldn’t gift them any sort of her treasure towards men like these, would she? If only Constantine was here, Zatanna maybe.. Aveline would've been a simple call away, if it wasn't Gotham City in the middle of the night.

This wasn’t good. Both Faust AND Brother Blood? That meant that at least one of them had a Grimoire, Faust was definitely one to stumble upon a Grimoire or two that seemed to have been forgotten by mankind. So it wouldn’t be too far of a stretch that he would be the one who found Avnas’ sigil. And it also wouldn’t be a far reach to think that this little duo were the cause of the flame appearing. Probably without any proper success. Girl didn’t really like Males all that much. And she was picky when it came to her payment, it truly was never quite the same thing over and over again. But always fitting for the gift that she was going to be giving away to whoever paid the price fair and square. And seeing that the two men had a girl with them, bound and gagged. Payne didn’t hesitate to get closer. Poor girl had to be a virgin, it’s always a virgin when it comes to these offerings. Pure and such, shame really. She was cute. Lucky for the Demon that Avnas would never approve of an offering such as this one. She favored the female sex, and someone clearly hasn’t been doing their homework just right. Typical, really.

An arcane circle was drawn, using chalk and lining it with rocksalt. Clever duo, clearly not the first Demon they’ve summoned. But Payne did hope that they didn’t know all too well who the Prince of Hell was. A Fallen One, not one who obeys to the rules of Payne’s many siblings that could be summoned. Payne would jump in immediately if things would be going south, but until then he stood watch.

15 minutes of chanting later, the duo seemed to get frustrated, not understanding why the giver of treasure wouldn’t appear. Little did they know that they were the very reason why she wouldn’t show up. And the fact that their chanting wasn’t done backwards, rookie mistake really. But sadly one that Faust had started to figure out not too soon after Payne’s initial thought. The woman was forced to chant, calling forth the fiery flame of Avnas herself.

Payne’s eyes grew wider as he saw the beauty of the Fallen Prince appearing before him, or at least her well familiar form, which shone brighter than any light on the Gotham City streets. Almost blinded by it, Payne got closer in case he needed to jump into action.

Faust and Blood were both bowing down, asking Amy to grant them the gift of eternal power. Offering this virgin in return as payment. Payne bit his lip for a second after everything had gone silent. But it wasn’t for too long before the flame itself disappeared. And a beautiful woman had taken its place.

“Damn..” Payne muttered, making sure that he kept everything within eyesight of what might be happening. He wouldn’t like to be someone to interfere with Avnas herself. But then again, if someone's life was going to be on the line, he definitely would have to, whether he liked it or not..

Avnas' form had changed. This was Amy, the human form of the Prince of Hell, and Payne could fully grasp why she'd go for a form this stunning.
Hiding behind a bunch of crates and barrels. Payne awaited what was going to happen once Amy looked at the woman who was being offered towards her. Words weren’t spoken, or at least not vocally. A simple guess made Payne think that whatever was going on, it was all telepathic. But Amy did surprise the Demon quite well, as she snapped her neck back to look towards Faust and Brother Blood, vanquishing them into thin air before looking back at the girl, untying her with the wave of her hand, and then vanishing herself after she took a look in Payne’s general direction with a soft smile, before she vanished into thin air.

The girl was freed and she started to run away, and Payne simply stood up after the girl had left the vicinity, taking off his helmet and simply staring at the arcane circle as if Amy was still there. Eventually he smirked, followed with a soft chuckle escaping the Demon’s lips as he shook his head.
“They’ll show up somewhere again.. I’m sure. But for now... Have a good night Amy..” Payne spoke out loud, walking over to the circle and grabbing the grimoire that held the Sigil of the Fallen Flame.
“I’ll make sure no one will be bothering you here again.” He muttered more silently, placing the leather book under his arm with his helmet, saluting the arcane circle as two fingers tapped against his temple, and disappeared into the night.
“I knew nothing but shadows and I thought them to be real.”

11/20/2020 12:36 PM 

The Demon And the Boy (By: Slightly Murderous)

Please note, that I, Mazikeen's writer, have given Payne complete consent to post this in his blog. I wrote it, but it is our story.--the writer behind Slightly Murderous.
 
life's new meaning
https://www.roleplayer.me/__mazikeen__
 
"Boy, get up."

The young man looked around confused as his eyes settled on the figure of Mazikeen. Why she was in his chambers he didn't know, but it wasn't usually a good sign when she was. Yet, as crimson orbs landed upon her, she wasn't dressed as she normally was. She was in strange attire that had her figure fully covered. She looked like...one of those Earthbound ladies. On her wrist was a leather-bound bracelet and her face, normally scarred and misshapen, was hidden. If the Boy was suspicious, he didn't show it. Just stood up slowly. Maze held out a small parcel. "Put those on. Come. We're going somewhere. Up." She reiterated, her impatience showing. This was an adventure that she had spent weeks planning. Telling Lucifer that she wanted to go topside without him for once. "I'll bring the boy. He should see Earth at least once," she had informed the Lord of Hell. "As you told me once upon a time. He'll act as my guard."

He'd been dropped into her care, so to speak, made to train from the time he could walk. And he was fierce; her perfect student. His rage and confusion at his circumstances came out as he fought. He had yet to lose a fight and she had no illusions that someday, he would even beat her. Mazikeen was the most feared fighter; skilled with a blade and known for her wrath. Her skills at torture were known even in the Silver City. Angels were a challenge to fight, but she enjoyed the fight. Allowing the Boy to dress privately, she waited outside his chamber doors, toying with her blades. They were always on her person somewhere easily grabbed. When he emerged, she took note of how tall he'd grown; he was a few inches taller than herself now. He was going to have women falling all over him someday; permitting he could learn how to speak and not aim to kill everyone in sight.

They walked in silence towards the gates. Maze gave a loud and sharp whistle and the guards opened them for the pair, letting them out. Beside her, the Boy remained. His hands folded behind himself as he looked over to her in askance. Drawing out a coin, she motioned to him, bringing her arm around him firmly. "Hold on." She uttered to him in Lilim. She knew he understood it; along with Enochian, and a few other tongues that were going to the wayside. Today would be English; one of the Earth languages. Grasping the coin in her hand, she felt it burn in her grasp. "London," she spoke clearly and within a moment, they were gone from Hell and standing on the cobblestoned streets of London, England.

"Welcome to Earth," she spoke to him, watching as he looked around awestruck; namely at the sky, which in Hell was never this blue or clear. He was clearly awestruck by it. Maze had to remind herself to be patient. They had all the time they wanted; they did not need to rush back. There were so many wonders to show him. There was something in him that spoke to Mazikeen's heart. He wasn't meant to spend his life in Hell. Maze felt this exposure could be the beginning of something. Something good for him. He had potential. And if his own parents didn't want him, why shouldn't he carve out his own path? Perhaps it was the knowledge that she would never live a life here on Earth that inspired her to want to help him. Maybe it was...could she daresay that he inspired a softness in her? The idea was laughable and she dismissed it, instead leading him down the street to one of her favorite shops. "This is a confectioner's shop," she explained to him. "They have sweets."

Given their usual diet back in Hell, this was something exciting. Maze had a purse full of coins and she led him in with her. The overwhelming smell of delicious treats made Maze's mouth water and she had a sneaking suspicion the same was happening for the nameless boy beside her. "Can I help ye?" the shopkeeper spoke, eyeing her.
"Yes, sir," she tamed her voice to be kind, not full of venom. "A bag of peppermint sticks, a bag of vanilla sticks, a tarte of strawberries...oh, and you have Murakkaba!" She dearly loved the taste of the Middle Eastern delight. It was simple enough; fried dough that was dipped in butter and honey. The last time she had come up with Lucifer, she had eaten it to the point of nausea, but it was delicious. She took two crowns out, noticing the glimmer in the shopkeep's eyes. "Would m'lord like anything else?" she asked her companion, who shook his head as he looked around.
"Aye, we do, Mistress," he remarked, moving to fetch all of what she asked for, and once acquired, she brought him to a table outside, nudging the tarte toward him. Raising her own treat up, she motioned to her mouth. "Eat." She smiled as he took a bite, the look on his face one of awe and bliss. Their diets in Hell were far more...meaty. Sweets did not exist there and it was pleasant for the demoness to watch him take his first bite. One bite led to two and then a third...and the fourth bite had him polish it off entirely. Maze laughed amused. Clearly, he was loving this. His hands reached out for more, but she shook her head. "Slowly. Let it settle. Else you'll get sick."

Leading him around the city, letting him take it all in, Maze was content to enjoy it all. She motioned to the ship in the Thames, the Golden Hinde, which Francis Drake had sailed to the Americas and back. The Boy looked at it in wonder and awe. "That is a ship," she explained. "It sails on the water and brings you anywhere you want to go." It was an interesting thing to be teaching him these sorts of things, instead of how to maim and kill. It was a nice change. Leading him down the streets again, they walked in silence, gasping as a group of the Queen's guards came riding down the narrow street. Maze went to pull him out of the way, but he fell hard against the uneven cobblestones; hard enough that she cringed as well.

The Boy's face was twisted up in anger and he was clearly sore. She was proud of him, that he had not reacted as she thought he might. Instead, Mazikeen took hold of his hand, helping him up and lead him to a grassy knoll near the Thames. "Look at me," she spoke gently, taking her handkerchief and pressing it to his knee before it stained his trousers. "Look at my mouth," she told the Boy. "This is called Pain. When something hurts you? It's Pain. Put your lips like so." Maze hated as he shuddered at her touch, but kept it gentle, assuring him that she was not going to hurt him. "Puh-ain."
"Puh."
"Puh-ain."
"Puh-ain."
"Say it together."
"Puh-ain. Pain." He spoke softly, touching his knee. "Pain."
"Well done, lad," Maze smiled, tousling his hair in a kind manner, the way she'd seen a mother do so to her son as they had meandered the city together. She didn't want to call him 'boy' whilst they were here. They were not here to fight or find anyone to torture. They were simply here for a change of pace. Granted, she was not all that fond of being topside; hating the looks she garnered for the hue of her flesh, but mostly everyone was cheerful today, given that Francis Drake's tales were filling the newspapers and ears of those who would listen to the stories of his adventures and his success. It was a joyful day in the city and people were too distracted to be unkind mainly.

"Do you know why I brought you here?" she asked, looking over at him. She wasn't surprised as he shook his head 'no' and she handed him a peppermint stick to suck on as they spoke. "I brought you here so you can see how people communicate. That they speak. They don't just fight. That not everyone is bad." The words fell from her lips and even she was shocked, but the demon continued. "I thought it'd be good for you to see people speak, so that way you can learn to do so. I know you don't get many opportunities back Home, but every now and then, I'll bring you up so you can practice more. Your tongue and your words can be just as much a weapon as any blade can be."

She was surprised when he touched her arm, motioning to her. Tilting her head at first, then understanding he was asking her to tell him how to say her name. It brought her back to when Lucifer had taught her how to position her mouth when speaking new words. Ironic that she would be the one to teach his son, using the same methods. Taking his hands, she rested them on her cheeks, near her mouth, letting him feel how it felt to form words. Pointing to herself, she spoke slowly and clearly in small syllables. "Maah. Zee. Keen."
"Maah. Zeh. Kween."
"Keen."
"Maah. Zeh. Keen." He sounded out, letting it rest for a moment before his eyes lit up. "Maah-zeee-keen." The demon grinned and nodded, clapping her hands. "That's my name." He was clearly pleased with himself then, taking hold of her hand and leading her through the city again, pointing at things and having her teach him how to say them. He was not stupid, as some mumbled, he was simply a child who was in need of care and teaching. By the time it was time to return home, he could manage a few small sentences. "I like London," he told her as they walked through the gates again.
"As do I."
"We...go back?"
"We can go back. I don't know when," Maze replied, leading him up to his chambers. "But I will try to make it soon. Tomorrow, we're back to training," she finished, leaning in his doorframe. Despite that disappointing tidbit, he was still walking with a bounce in his step.

"More words?" he asked quietly, those crimson eyes of his meeting her own near black ones. It was their little secret, it seemed, and he understood that he couldn't tell that he was learning. Weapons need not speak, though if either of his parents expected him to take up their throne, their son would need to be able to speak. The demoness would simply have to figure it out. It was that simple. Nodding her head and pushing her hair back out of her face, Maze agreed and handed him the bags of candy. Let him enjoy them. 
"Soon."
"Maah-zee-keen. Thank you."

She had not expected that. No one ever thanked her for anything. There was something strange about this young man; that one visit topside had awoken something in him, Maze could feel it. And that she would do her best to kindle that flame of desire. If it was his dream to live free of Hell--she would see it done.

11/20/2020 12:35 PM 

Farewell To You (By: Slightly Murderous)

Please note, that I, Mazikeen's writer, have given Payne complete consent to post this in his blog. I wrote it, but it is our story.--the writer behind Slightly Murderous.

"Maze. I want to go up again,” the Boy had spoken to her. She had known it would happen. Going topside was a touch on the addictive side.  She had promised nothing, simply motioned to the board of weapons behind him, and had carried on with their endless lessons. She knew in her heart that she was training her own replacement. That the Prince of Hell would someday be the Head Torturer and Defender of Lucifer. Where this would leave her, she had no idea, but it was her duty--and Mazikeen did it with utmost pride. 

It had taken her
ages to convince Lucifer that it was a good idea. He’d thought that the first trip had been a bad idea. Especially since The Boy had come back speaking. Mazikeen had continued the lessons in secret, and she had to admit that she was most pleased with his progress. He was a quick mind and he kept excellent secrets. When they were training, she would take moments to help him. It was a clandestine affair of sorts; and he always asked her to bring him topside again. He who asked for nothing else--asked for that. Just a few hours of blissful freedom.

When she was able, she did so. They were not long visits, just short ones and usually when Lucifer had gone up himself. Sometimes he brought Maze, other times, he did not. On the occasions that she did go with him, she made certain to always stop at a sweet shop; knowing full well that The Boy enjoyed his sweets. She was surprised at how she was able to go from the bitch everyone knew her as, to this...whatever this was. Was it kindness? Love? She had never really sat about long enough to figure it out, but she liked those stolen moments where she could be something of a sister to him. Everyone else talked down to him, treated him poorly. She understood it well, even though Lucifer treated her like a Queen. Everyone needed one person to be there for them. If she could do that for The Boy, then so be it.

Finally, consent was given. Maze hadn't hesitated in getting ready, though she didn't dare tell him at first. First, she had some items made for him. His own set of blades. A sword. Some clothes--she didn't know how long they'd be there, so it was always best to have more than one set. Besides, when the seamstresses came to the Boy, he simply chalked it up to his needing new armor since he had become too tall for the other set he had. She was rather pleased with her ability to keep a secret. Besides, he deserved this. She had planned where she'd take him for ages, it was simply a matter of getting him there. When she'd finally told him, he'd rewarded her with a wide smile, the one that reached his eyes, and the one that made other demons and fallen angels sigh and ache for his eye to fall on them.

“I have something for you,” Mazikeen began, looking up at him. He’d grown rather tall in the last few years. She was not one to give presents, but she wanted him to have this, particularly since he’d lost his arm and had it replaced with that of a demon. A long scar was on his face as well, on his forehead and his cheek. Not to mention, his bright red eyes. He couldn’t appear as such on Earth. He'd gotten too arrogant in a fight and thus, had been rewarded. The lecture she'd given him once he had gotten used to that arm...it still made her chuckle. Reaching into her pocket, she drew out a leather bracelet. Motioning that he should stand in front of the looking glass in her room, she uncovered it--hating to look at herself--and she put the bracelet on him. The result was nearly instantaneous. His arm took on the appearance of a regular arm, the scar faded (it was there, but not as prominent as it usually was) and his eyes changed from red to blue. Watching his reaction was a delight to the demon; it wasn’t unlike the one she had when she’d first seen the glamor spell in action.

“Ready?” she asked, leading him to the gates, chuckling as he brought his arm around her and in the blink of an eye, they were topside again. The last place she had brought him a few years prior was a small town, the first had been London. This time was the beach. It was one of her favorite places on Earth; a place where the color of her skin didn’t matter. One where she could be herself since there were people who looked like her. Adjusting the hat on her head, Mazikeen took a moment to inhale and smiled at the fresh air. What bliss this was. It was the closest to Heaven that she would ever be.

“What is this place?” The Boy asked her and she smiled as she sat down in the sand, drawing off her shoes and stockings. She was too anxious and couldn't wait to dip her toes into the warm seawater. The Boy looked at her in awe. He had never seen her so relaxed or excited. “This is called the Caribbean,” she smiled, raising her skirts slightly and walking towards the water. “Come along. Leave your boots and hose with mine. No one will bother them.” Indeed, Mazikeen was well known here; they wouldn't touch her things. Though already late in the day, it was just at the point where everything was at its most beautiful. Tomorrow, she'd bring him into town. He'd shown interest in ships everyplace she had brought him, so perhaps she could manage to garner them some passage for a trip.

The Boy looked bewildered but did as he was told. Reaching her hand out to him, Maze smiled warmly and led him towards the ocean once his hand was in her own. The water was the most crystalline blue, the sand was nearly white, and the salt in the air battered their faces most delightfully. She looked pleased as he laughed with her, a smile heavy on his features. It was the smile of someone who had just found something near and dear to them; something they’d never want to let go of. It was also at that moment, she knew for certain why he had wanted to come back up. He was tired of being damned to Hell, to be seen as nothing but a weapon. He wanted to experience the world as his father occasionally allowed himself to. He wanted to see what the world had to offer...and what he, could offer it in turn. He wanted to leave. 

"You're not coming back, are you?"
“How did you know?”
“I’m old,” she retorted playfully. “I know things beyond how to fight and the like.” It was a statement that had a great deal of truth in it. People seldom looked beyond the surface; they saw her as Lucifer’s creature--their term--or as Hell’s most fearsome fighter. There was no room for anything else apparently. Once minds were made up, that was that. And for him, Mazikeen wanted more. She could understand. He was young still but had ages of experience. Time in Hell ran differently than on Earth. He appeared to be about 19 or 20. He’d age a little more but ultimately, he had centuries--or more--to experience it all. He may have been Lucifer’s heir, but he should have more experience before he decided to settle at one thing.

“You will need a name,” she continued, folding her hands behind her back when he went to brush his brown hair back. “Just as mine is Mazikeen. What’s your name going to be?”

Hearing her question, the boy continued to stare down at the beauty of the sunset. It was his first one, and Maze brought him back on land, so they could sit and watch it together. The reddish sky soon started to look like home and he smiled some and took a breath. Inhaling the fresh air before exhaling. Maze couldn't believe the sting of tears in her eyes. Was this truly happening? Her mind was going a thousand places at once when he startled her.

"Payne,” he uttered, surprising her. It had been the first word she’d taught him.

It was the first thing the boy had been able to say fully, without any struggle. Maze was touched that he would remember it still. She held back her tears as much as she could, but a tear did escape. 

"My name...is Payne."

"I wish you well, Payne."

The demon responded, smiling genuinely at him. A lump formed in her throat and for a moment, she allowed herself to let down her guard. Moving towards him, she brought her arms around him, hugging him. By the stiff nature of his body, she could tell she had surprised him, but he circled an arm around her, returning the embrace. There was no malice or cruelty in her actions and she was proud of his clarity and diction. Loosening a bag from her belt, she handed it to him. “This is 1,000 crowns. Don’t spend it all at once and do not allow anyone to take it from you. If they try, you know what to do. But restrain yourself--humans can’t fight as we can. I haven’t any more to give you right now and I don’t know when--or if--we’ll meet again. So...please.  Take care.” She knew he would be alright. He was made of strong stock and she knew her influence would see him through. She had a million things that she wanted to tell him, but she also didn't want to seem overbearing and paranoid. That wasn't her way. The Boy--Payne--he knew her. 

"Stay a little longer, sister?"
"As you wish, brother."

She sat down beside him, nudging over the bag she'd brought with them. Perhaps she had known deep down, and this was why she'd procured all of this for him. "Use them well," she demanded gently. Burying her toes into the sandy shores, Mazikeen knew the trouble that awaited her upon her return. She would be made to suffer for "losing" him. But he was no longer the boy or Hell's Weapon. He was to have a life. He was now a man.

 
A man named Payne.

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