A Desperate Haven Leads to a Ill-fated Deal

[Sublime]

It feels so nice, to be laughing and talking with someone, he hasn't had an opportunity in a very long time to actually socialize with another soul... only Belial. Richard finds himself dreading the moment that the demon takes control again, having his own body snatch away. A bout of claustrophobia grips at his throat, is being buried alive anything like this life I have created for myself? Like being shoved into the darkest recesses of your own mind and left to drawn in vastness of the subconscious. Finally, he realizes he is gripping the steering wheel and immediately loosens his hold, turning down the street the freakish establishment is located.

A terrible melancholy falls over the skull faced man and he cannot stop the tears that fall from his lashes. You’re going to take control again, as soon as I put this fucking thing in park, aren’t you? Somewhere within the confines of his head comes the wicked laughter of the one called Bones, afraid so Mr. Genest. That is the arrangement you are bound by. He gulps, golden eyes trained on the road, the deal was that you would let me live… This isn’t a life.

“It can’t be that bad… After all… He agreed he wouldn’t turn you into a host," Rick glances solemnly at Scrap, his beloved home coming up on their right, “maybe he’ll even let you go once you’ve served your purpose.”

He nods his head at his companion’s last statement, “consider yourself employed, don’t know what we’ll do with you yet, but then… Your kind heals nicely, so I’m sure Bones won’t have trouble finding a spot for you.”

Imbecile.

[Poe/Fide/Scrap]

"Oh cool... I can do a lot of things... Clean, mechanical work... I ca-"

The amnesia having shifter looks at Rick with a raised eyebrow. 'Really what did he mean,' he thinks, 'what is my kind suppose to mean?'. He begins scratching his ear frantically, a nervous tick he has always had. It feels good, but also cuts his skin bad at times.

"My Kind?"

[Sublime]

Richard pulls in and puts the vehicle into park, removing the key with a heavy sigh. Mr. Genest glances at Scrap and gives him one last sad smile, “It was nice getting to know you man, but it’s time for me to say goodbye. Bones will take care of you from here. Wish I could tell you more, but it’s not my place.”

His head jerks to the side with an audible pop and when his gaze settles on the shifter again his golden orbs have transformed into dark pits, “shall we?”

The skull faced man stuffs the keys to the car into his pocket, grips the handle to the door and finally frees himself from the damnedable contraption. I really cannot stand these 'cars' that human’s require for transport, I’ve never felt so sick in my life. One outside the ghostly fellow leans over the roof of the car and stares bemusedly at his new pet as Scrap exits the vehicle, “Oh no puppy, I plan to utilize you in the show, like Richard said, your kind heals quickly, which leaves many positions open to you. You could easily be one of our main attractions.”

He spins on his heels and heads for the entrance, “if you want to know what you are, come with me.”

[Poe/Fide/Scrap]

The young mutt does as he is told and follows, but is a bit hesitant on it. He does not know if he can trust a demon's word, but at the same time what other choice does he have. He gulps down a ball of fear in his throat.

"So where are we going?"

[Sublime]

“We’re going to your new home. You’ll live, eat, sleep and work here, “ he waves his hand theatrically behind him at the colorful face of the sideshow establishment, “I am going to show you to your room, give you time to get comfortable… Perhaps you may even feel inclined to take a shower.”

A sharky grin spreads across the skeletal visage of the demon possessed sword swallower, “you smell like a dead homeless person.”

Bones chortles with amusement, turning his back on Scrap and heading through the doors to the shifter’s new home, “then we’ll talk about what the two of us can do for one another.”

[Poe/Fide/Scrap]

Scrap lets out a soft chuckle before sniffing the air.

"Coming from someone who smells like sulfer I think I will take that as a compliment, but yeah a shower sounds devine right now. Thank God for the man who created plumbing."

He heads out of the room, jumps in the shower, and fifteen minutes later he is back.

"What's up with the thing?"

He points back the way he came from and the open door.

[Sublime]

"Don't fear the reaper."

Richard Genest

Belial sighs amusedly, letting the comment on his scent slide for now, once he’s served his purpose I will dispose of the snarky little street mut, but for now… He must feel safe and trust me, we can’t have him running to The Kindred now and telling them the location of The Order’s headquarters. His head jerks to the side and his eyes lighten to a golden brown, don’t hurt him, he’s a good guy, he doesn’t deserve to die. The skull faced man slams his hands on the table before him and hisses, his eyes once again flashing before fading into murky black pools, what I do with the boy is my business Richard. You will keep your mouth shut or I will dissolve our contract and find a more suitable... More agreeable host. With that his hand disappears into his pocket, the terrible Order member retrieving a rolled up piece of parchment and black quill. Bones stabs himself viciously in the hand, causing a generous helping of crimson liquid to spill forth from his punctured flesh. He flattens out the piece of paper and begins to scribble across the parchment in perfect cursive.

In a matter of minutes Scrap returns to the room and Bones gazes upon him bemusedly, an eye eyebrow raised high with a curious smirk etched on his features. Finally, as if the bulb in the attic of his mind were switched on, he realizes what the ‘thing’ the shifter was referring to was, “oh that old thing? It’s an iron maiden, barbaric I know, but still quite effective, especially if those spikes have been coated in a special remedy made to sear Non-Human flesh and cause unbearable pain.”

The sadistic Order members sighs whimsically as memories of past sessions with self righteous Kindred members frolic through his mind. He returns his attention to the task at hand, finishing the final paragraph on the contract he had been drawing up for their agreement and returns his gaze to Scrap, “now give me your hand.”

When the mut deposits his hand in his,the demon possessed immediately raises the sharp pen high into the air and stabs it into the palm of Scrap’s hand. He scoops a liberal serving of his life force up onto the writing implement before then offering the black feather to the shifter, “sign it and all your questions will be answered.”

[Poe/Fide/Scrap]

"Just need me to sign my life away huh? I didn't expect this to be a military-esque scenerio."

The unknowing shifter lets out a sigh as he takes the feather. Scrap stares at it for a moment before quickly scribbling his name on the paper.

"Done... Let's get this show on the road."

Scrap feels a sudden shock to his system that doubles him over.

"Seri... Wh... Is... Hap... t... M..."

Each word is cut off by a growl or a sudden surge of pain.

"Bones... I... Ca..."

A long drawn out howl echoes off the walls of the room.

[Sublime]

"Don't fear the reaper."

Richard Genest

An arrogant sneer crawls across the ghoulish man’s face as he watches the shifter sign his life away; too easy. His talons immediately ensnare the contract, chuckling lightly at the fact that he didn’t even peruse the document, and tucking said parchment back into his jacket pocket. Such a young and trusting pup, a wonderful find indeed, “consider it an insurance policy, you hold up your end of the bargain and I hold up mine. Wouldn’t want you to betray me and go skipping off to The Kindred, it wouldn’t bode well for this establishment if it were to be revealed as the base of operations for The Order of The Eye.”

A sudden spike in the shifter’s energy levels tantalizes Belial, like a cool ocean breeze blasting the Order member in the face, and invigorating his soul, “you really are in a desperate need for release aren’t you? Well, I can think of something useful for you to do.”

He chuckles lightly, a mischievous smirk stretching across the skull faced man’s horrendous features, mean while his hand dips into the breast pocket of his suit. The utterance of breaking bone and tearing flesh plays a sweet symphony in the ears of Bones and his expression remains placid whilst unbearable pain racks the shifter’s body, “well my boy, now’s as good a time as any to reveal a small truth concerning who you are. You’re a shifter, Coyote to be exact,” he withdraws a piece of royal blue fabric from the confines of his jacket, “and you’re going to do me a favor whilst you’re in your true form.”

Scrap releases a guttural yowl of anguish, his body curling in defensively as his ribs morph and legs feel as if they are breaking so that they might elongate, “get a good whiff of this Inquisition bitch, she’s a thorn in my side and getting a little too close to discovering the true nature of our fine establishment. Scare her off, kill her, eat her… I don’t care; just get rid of her, whatever the cost.”

[Poe/Fide/Scrap]

The shifter lets out another glass shattering howl before turning it's attention to it's now much smaller acquaintance. The urge to hunt and feed coursing through every fiber of Scrap's being. In this form his purpose and the need for orders takes an over-all toll. Where his two toned eyes once were a glowing aura of yellow now resides. The shaggy blonde hair now covers his body and his mouth and nose have transformed into a snarling muzzle. The monstrous creature sniffs the fabric and lets out another chilling growl.  Without a moment of hesitation the coyote takes flight to find it's query. The thirst for blood and the taste of flesh drives his body to go even faster.

OOC: I had no idea if I should have him talk or not so I didn't and also... How we going to do this as a new thread or?