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Bailey Cunningham | Centurion MD (torchit) wrote in forgotten_gods,

This wasn't, by any definition of the word, going well. In fact, it headed towards a medium disaster and, to make it worse, 2IC had no idea why. This heathen was doing something he didn't understand. All he knew was that it made him feel like a novice demon minion all over again which he was not! Hadn't been for a very long time. Yet here he was, struggling and fighting like the pus that infested the slime which covered the bottom feeders who licked the ground in search of crumbs of scraps that may or may not have fallen off their masters' tables.

Say uncle... Was that supposed to be funny? Heaven and Hell had hierarchies, had titles; kings, dukes, earls, generals, commanders and so on but nothing even remotely close to 'uncle'.

"Yes," a calm and amused sounding voice said from behind him, "do as the gentleman says, little one. I'd love to hear, too."

The demon's eyes widened, shock and fear warring over supremacy on his face. The grip on Desmond loosened considerably, all fight flying straight out the window.

Busted. Blasted. Game over.

Aim sauntered towards them and like his 2IC studied the room with curious eyes before he grabbed his subordinate by the scruff of his neck, twisting the fabric in his fist and pulling it tight against the demon's throat.

"Pardon the intrusion," the duke said to Desmond, smiling pleasantly, as he tugged on 2IC. "I don't know what this little dummy was thinking. Would you mind letting go? It would be very appreciated."