Haunted Roads

When: Late Night
Where: Hotel
Who: Nikolaos, Dorian, Mikkos, Guards
What: Demons - Mikkos' Point of View - Narrative

Such hatred. So strong that it could be felt easily through the walls of the hotel they both still lived in, and even simply within the city. Mikkos spent little time within the city however. Most days were spent in trying to clean up a mess not his own, though surely he too had some dirt on his hands. No, he'd not take all the blame, not for his father's treachery. All the talk of family, all the talk of loyalty, and in the end? It was Haimon who proved the traitor. In the end it was Haimon to sell his own blood, to hand them not to their known enemy, but to another.

The enemy, Mikkos had learned, was now Haimon's ally. The old man had been busy. All he needed was Mikkos and Nik to be gone for an extended amount of time to complete his treachery. Mikkos had learned much, though not enough. He knew no amount of evidence would convince Nik that it was not Mikkos' doing, not even Mikkos' choices on the surface, that had swayed Haimon in his treason, but something deeper and darker that belonged to Haimon alone.

And to his enemy. Yes, Haimon's enemy turned ally.

Mikkos hadn't at first believed it. Even now he had trouble in accepting it, but it was true, he knew. The enemy he had known always to hate, the enemy Haimon had spent a lifetime fighting against... Haimon now had joined forces with. And both men, he learned, were doing a bit of house cleaning. The truth had been hard to swallow, especially since it had come not from his own men, but from the enemies. In fact, it was one of the Kreskas' that first told him. But not before Mikkos and he had a vicious fight. Followed of course, by another.

None of it made sense, and in fact, the Kreskas had very little to offer in the way of evidence or rational conviction, but what little he did offer, coupled with what little Mikkos knew on his own family's side... he knew it was likely all too true. Which meant as bad as it now was, it was only going to get worse.

Of course, he had no idea just how bad it really would get.

That did not mean however, that his guard was down. A message from Nik, from his own guard, the same guard that had watched the boy from his childhood. There was no trust in him, no rust now in any of the guard. No trust in anyone. In fact, if Mikkos were a wiser man, he'd have no trust in his son. Logically, rationally, he knew he should have none, but he knew also, that if he could not trust Nik, ill-placed as that might be, then he had in fact, truly lost everything. The truth of the matter though, was he didn't know how much, if any of Haimon's plot, involved Nik, or if the boy truly was as much a pawn in this game as everyone else now seemed to be.

His eyes swept 'round the room. first Nik, then Dorian, then the guards, and then back on Nik expectantly. He had called this meeting after all, there must have been a reason. Wait. Something was off... some guard that did not belong. Too late. A warning, and then the lights came on. Brilliant, enough to cripple the shadow creatures. A shot, Nik's gun bringing one down, and Mikkos quickly became a part of the shadows, fighting within them. The battle waged on, his own guard, all new, hand picked, and made up one hundred percent of old friends, surface demons... better known back in the day, as pirates.

No epic music played, and the battle was anti-climactic, valiantly fought, but unexpected. As much by the the guards who turned on them as by Mikkos and Nikoloas and Dorian. The mutinous guards, acting on higher orders, had not expected any fight. "Retreat" had been sounded more than once, but Mikkos refused. Not without his son. And not without his sister's son. This now was his family. He knew, beyond all doubt, that this now was his only family. And as the order was given, and Mikkos too, fought as Nik did, and Dorian too, the shadows darkened, all went black, and when he came to he was no longer in the basement, no longer in the hotel, or even in the city, but in the stronghold of his friend. The battle had waged on without him. But not long he was told, as when he fell, the others did retreat, dragging his sorry unconscious ass with them. But not before killing as many of the others as they could, and at least attempting to take his son and nephew.

They'd expected his rage however, and when it came, they simply took up another battle. This was as much fun as the salty old pirates had had in all the centuries since their mate had left them.

When: Afternoon
Where: Their hotel
Who: Mikkos and Nikolaos

Eighteen days gone. Eighteen days too long. For one so old the days were but a blink, but now held more value to the centuries old demon. Everything had changed. Nothing made sense, and every day held a new urgency.

He’d learned much an absence, and for all he learned he knew he learned not near enough. Only that all he’d known for so long, was now in question. Even family loyalty. No… especially family loyalty. He’d punished the one who brought such questions to light, but that did nothing to erase the doubt. A doubt that now grew with each passing day.

Even speaking with his father had done nothing to diminish it. No, no questions were asked of the old man, and Mikkos was careful not to allow any doubt to show, but neither did his father utter a word about all the questions now in Mikkos mind.

No word from Haimon seemed as good as a confirmation. Haimon after all, feigned as much carelessness as Mikkos, when both knew neither felt anywhere near as careless as they seemed.

Still, it made no sense. None at all. Especially when given word that Nik had Dorian in custody. All the years, all the urgency, and now that they had him, there was no hurry at all in bringing him home.

Mikkos hadn’t even returned to his own suite, instead he went straight to that which Nik stayed in. The guards alerted Nik even before his father arrived and let the elder in. Once inside, the demon washed his hands, splashed cool water on his face, and straightened his suit before fixing himself a drink at the bar.

Who: Mikkos and Justine
When: Mid-evening
Where: Chroma - Her office, specifically
What: A return visit

It was the start of a new week, the debut of a new sculpture display at Chroma and, so far, Justine was having a wonderful evening. The turn-out was already much more than either she or the show's collaborators had intended to draw in and, given the early hour, it was likely that people would continue to stream in the entrance for hours to come. Business was good, as always, and so far there hadn't been any unusually note-worthy events. Given the guests she'd had within the premises in the past few weeks, the mundane nature of the evening was a welcome return to the norm. As always, she was dealing with the knowledge of Mikkos' return with the utmost grace; she had even managed to messenger her long-unworn engagement ring back to him with a note that said everything she could not. Whatever romantic fantasies her mind might have been entertaining over the years, it was time to cast them aside, to face reality as it was now: she and Mikkos were not together and had not been for quite awhile – it was time to move on.

Truly, she had carried a torch long enough. Sure, it had been fueled by a messy mix of hate, love, desire and disgust, but now that some sort of closure had come, she could feel the first stages of all of that beginning to slip away. As painful as it had been to see him again, to hear him speak so affectionately of the family he had started, it was what she needed. Chloe had been all over her for years about establishing a life for herself outside of the penthouse, one that extended beyond her duties at Chroma….perhaps it was time to take her youngest sibling's advice into consideration. The occasional step outside of her comfort zone truly couldn't be that mortifying – granted, she had no idea how one went about establishing an active social life nowadays, but Justine was sure that Chloe would be eager to offer her assistance. Whatever nerves already rising could be soothed at the knowledge that, if nothing else, it would be an excuse for time with a beloved sibling….surely that was tolerable?

Justine had worn a beautifully casual red dress for the evening, standing out against the elite crowd packing her establishment as she went about conducting her usual walk through of all the lounges. Tonight it would take longer than expected, given the crowds gathered to see the new collection debut but the wine was flowing, the food was constantly replenished and with Chroma's staff at the helm, the place could nearly run itself. Pausing at the main bar, Justine waved over her assistant manager, leaning over so that she might be heard over the din around them, "I'm going to retreat to my office for a bit – there's a stack of paperwork with my name on it and I'm afraid it has no intention of completing itself. You'll call me if there are any problems requiring my attention?" Marlowe nodded, a warm smile touching his lips, "Of course, Miss Baptiste. I'm sure things will be fine, no worries." Justine nodded as well, gave his hand a light squeeze and turned to take her leave of the main festivities, vanishing down the secluded hallway that would deliver her to her office.

It was just as her hand hit the doorknob that the scent caught her attention – he was back. Now that her memory had been refreshed, never again would she mistake that scent for anything else. Obviously she had been wrong in her assumption that anything worth being said had come out the last time they had seen one another. Squaring slender shoulders, she took a deep breath of preparation and entered the code that allowed her office door to swing open. Her eyes swept the familiar lay out of her office, knowing that if he intended to remain unseen he would be quite capable of doing so. "You must be aware that I know of your presence already," she closed the door behind herself, crossing the short distance to move behind her desk, "there's no need to remain hidden." Justine lowered herself into her seat, crossing one slim leg over the other, and waited for the confrontation to come.

At first Mikkos was unresponsive, if anything only intrigued by the delivery, the return of a ring so long ago given. He dropped it in his pocket and as the day progressed, pulled it out occasionally to glance at it, thinking of it’s value, remembering how it complimented Justine’s beauty. Remembering how her eyes sparkled the night he gave it to her, the night he asked her to marry him.

Hours later his cool had begun to slip. For a while he sat brooding, staring at the ring as though it held the answer to his mood, or as though the ring itself was the reason for all of the anger inside him.

The ring was nothing more than a bauble, a trinket… a symbol. It was all that it symbolized that now ate at him. His anger, his regret, his frustration.

The brooding ate at him, bubbling over like a slow rise of lava until in a heated rage he began to act out all those emotions on the empty room around him. When he was done much of what held value in the room had been broken and Mikkos was heading out.

A few of his enemies, his father’s enemies, the enemies of his family, would feel his wrath, and before the end of the night would be dead by his hand.

But Mikkos would feel no better.

Who: Mikkos and Justine
Where: Chroma Gallery
When: Saturday night
What: Didn’t think Mikkos was going to stay away long once he found out, did you?

Abstract art. When last Mikkos had been in this world this type of artistic expression did not even exist. At least not in any respected form. Perhaps the frustrated expressions of drunken, or otherwise influenced painters. They’d have considered it a wasted canvas likely. In some, Mikkos noticed, it was actually quite interesting. In others… just weird.

Knowing Justine, she was just being helpful to a starving artist in showing his work. Anything to help a person in need. It was such helpfulness that alerted her business, and her, to Mikkos. An underground shop to give proper ID to those in need. Mikkos knew. He’d found out days ago. But he had waited, not knowing when, or if he should show. He knew he wanted to show, to see her. But that, he knew, was a can of worms no one wanted open. Visiting her, now, tomorrow, a hundred years from now, was asking for trouble, even if Mikkos had no intention of dragging any of them through what they’d been through before.

With Nikolaos off playing somewhere, Mikkos decided he’d at least pay a visit to this gallery. He wanted to see what his former love was into, where her passion was. And maybe, just maybe, he’d glimpse her as well.

Once inside, he felt her presence everywhere. He was in no hurry to leave, though there was no evidence that she herself was there. He couldn’t feel her, though Mikkos understood with new buildings they built all sorts of safeguards to protect against such knowledge. After a few moments he was approached by one of the staff. Would he like a glass of wine? The house brand, the first glass of which was, on the house, or something a little more specific perhaps? Mikkos turned to him, the pretty little human boy, and asked if they had Loire region, vintage 1789. It was, mostly facetious, though he was interested to see the reaction. And if they had it, all the better.

Maybe Justine herself would be inclined to bring it to him.

When: Night
Where: Hotel they are staying in
Who: Nik and Mikkos

( But he was to behave. ) No deaths in the hotel, he’d given his word at least to that much. And so the pretty little woman with raven hair and smeared make up was let go. Released back to the night, brought to a cab with the help of a guard Nik had sent with her. It would take some time to heal from the damage done…one piece but Nik hadn’t been able to resist breaking a few bones. Just to hear the snap, just to hear the scream…

By the time she got into the cab she wouldn’t remember his face, the demon guard would muffle the memory, chase away the image and the name..fake as it had been that he gave her.

Nik hated holding back.

Blood was scattered across the room, smeared upon the wall, dotting the ground. Nik licked what remained from his lips before another guard came to knock upon the door. Nik finished pulling on a pair of pants before opening the door, sensing just who it was on the other side. “Your father wants to see you.” Here he didn’t even get to enjoy the remnants of the pain still scenting the air. “Of course, let him know I will be there shortly.” Nik remarked though he shut the door then.

A shower, a drink, a change of clothes…scarcely an hour later Nik was leaving his room to go meet with his father. The room would be seen to by one of their own, though he would be rather amused by the face a human room service worker would make. Still…no drawing attention to them. They had need to stay to those shadows still, keep the light off of them. They worked best in that cover but Nik could not deny there was a desire here, on the surface, to step out of it and test the limits of the mortals around him. Did all demons from hell feel that urge? That desire to just…test those human limits. To see how they truly compared…

A fresh suit was worn though no tie had been put on to complete the look. Steps were silent through the hall that lead him to his fathers room not too far from his own. There was no need to knock, another of their group opened the door to let Nik in.

“Father” a respectful nod of the head was given, eyes dropped for just a moment before rising again to meet his fathers own gaze. Always Nik gave him respect, respect earned from a man that time and time again had shown strength and power. Nik had reason to doubt that strength now, to question truly his father’s actions. Part of him held desire to sneer and hiss questions.

But no such thing was done. Nik gave no hint at all to what he knew or who he had..briefly spoken with nights prior. Until there was need for it such words would never be spoken. Unlike his mother Nik would not so blindly believe that his father would choose this world over their own again. Times were different now.

His mother did not believe any of that enough. Nik could only wait and see.