Familiar Demons

As she returned to the world she knew, her whereabouts were fuzzy, mere blurry afterimages of their former selves, fists rubbing at her eyes, turning away her head with a sleepy moan, as she turned ahead to where she first looked… there was a hand. A hand was quite pale yet masculine, thicker than how the usual females', but not Azazel's aura surrounding it, no. For when she widened her eyes to just enough of an expansion, she could recognize that devilish face, for with black strands sitting idly behind his hair and over his shoulders.

"Long time no see. Still waiting around for your savior to notice you?"

The usual tone he held with his naturally soft voice was gone, replaced by a calming sensation that swirled at her center, for as she inched her fingers closer, the compulsion to take his hand into her own was overwhelming, to say the least. Centimeters away from giving in to the charm accompanying his looks, she rolled away, exposed extremities grazing the ground as she returned to her feet, the hissing audio unique to steam sent a curious pang through her nerves.

"The power of the Plague; that which originated from the embers of the past that's been all but destroyed: you've unlocked it, haven't you?"

There was this feeling within her, like a sensation activated at the sickening tones of his soothing vocals, as she looked down at her stuck-out finger with shadows covering the shape of her orbs of sight, she could recognize this new sensation. She'd so easily acquired the skill she'd sought out, now as she stood up, eyes suspiciously analyzing the area, she took a more crouched approach, letting her fingers rest on the ground.

"Return to my side and use that power for the sake of ourselves, if you accept, I won't penalize you for betraying me, 'Blossom.'"

The silence afterward had stated all that remained, for that glare in her eyes was not special to her, as it returned a hateful click of teeth; just a memory, and once again, those feelings of animosity returned as if they'd never faded. Where had he seen that face before, you ask?

None other than when his victim was chained down to that metal chair with locks over his wrists, with red hair not only inherited by his mother but made liquid by the droplets leaking out the peak of the skull. Though they'd never had a lengthy conversation, with just a blink, he could sense it, the illusion of the King, he who escaped his grasp and dared to continue to rebel continuously… existing within her every movement.

Like someone was writing down their movements on a sheet of paper, they moved without hesitation, with Icarus's muscular frame revealing its pale complexion as the coat went flying off his shoulders. Hovering slowly in the air, there she was, still seated in that former stance, eyes incapable of noticing her enemy's swiftness.

Letting the hairs cover his monotonous features as his leg raised, the intended direction guided the trajectory of the limb right to the side of her head, but she easily ducked right under. Out the eye's corner to her left, a fist came into view, knuckles rapidly punching at every side her head turned, easily weaving at the many attacks he threw so carelessly. Palms clasping to the ground, she flipped back twice, one time with the floor as her grip, and another, without letting her feet even scrape the platform.

Athletically landing on her soles, she clapped her hands together with a resounding ping reverberating out like shockwaves as if the shadow of a Plague leaked out from her bottoms. Bunches of metal assembled to form elongated fists, clashing at his feet for his legs were no longer there, the Jester now in the air, arms stretching, tips of fingers discharged tethers of light, zooming ahead without a sensible halt.

Spikes emerged from the destroyed space below him, stumbling ahead as his hand grabbed at the coat still amid the air, Icarus carefully landed, scratching at his jaw with an audible groan, then watching as Smith emerged from outside the smoke. Knuckles forming to make a fist, recklessly aiming for a right hook, her bust left defenseless, the Jester went in for the easy stab at her open chest. Just as she'd expected, right before the tips of his fingers could reach within the insides of her body's content, there was an external force. Strong enough to falter his destructive movement aimed at her, and that was simply... his lack of hands.

"Hmm," An intrigued hum left his lips, jumping back at the sound of instinct commanding him seconds later.

As his arms healed to veto his injury, he swung around the detached limb hanging on by just a thread of flesh, but as the scarlet threads obeyed his Vita's orders, he could only stare ahead without a mischievous smirk, and ponder, silently.

"I'm impressed. Not even Ace managed to injure my original body as you did. The power you hold as an Incarnated Artifact is beyond anything I've ever seen, I'm quite... intrigued."

Icarus rubbed his chin, hand attaching to the wrist, snapping it back into place with a satisfying sound, his legs pointed inward as he fell to his bottom and assumed a meditating stance. Natalia's stance was as airtight as the oxygen captured within this metal chamber, her eyes scanned over his movements, every little twitch- the tiniest sliver in the irregularity of breathing, there was no doubt the Jester of the Deck hadn't counted for every detrimental probability.

"Those eyes of yours, Miss Smith, that new power of yours, how much can you see with it?"

Pressure reapplied to her shoulders, first seeping into her skin as if her whole frame were wielding that immeasurable weight as if pure chains attached to her wrists. A pit formed in her stomach, the dread expanded not only to the heart but to the breakneck speed of neurons firing as they accounted for every possibility.

Her eyes locked ahead onto the unchanged void inside the demon's very own, for they hadn't realized that her breathing... had become the very thing she'd been searching for. Irregular. Like the fangs of a monster were shining in from the shadows of a sewer, where silence was brothers with the element of fear, that sharpness wasn't the problem, but the anticipation leading into that eventual pain she was sure to experience- there are some fates worse than even death.

How much could she see? Though this power of hers could destroy and repair any injury, any nuisance, even she was unable to peer past the insignificance of her opponent's superiority. For as her hair flew forward, his blew back, swift movement of the Jester closed the expansion between the foes, for he now stood right beside her, coat's ends flowing back, that soothing voice accompanied with a softened nature vocalization, had turned to that of what she'd imagine a true demon to be like.

"If it's my death, then make it happen."

Their faces would touch if they inched even the slightest centimeter to the opposite direction their free cheeks were facing, for their eyes flared a shine that Icarus knew all too well, the second the duo turned, their hands clashed. At the ends of his fingers, not inturned to form a fist, the nails aimed to scrape at her swiftly-dodging features, feeling those quickened pierces fly past her face, scraping through the air instantly.

However, catching his wrist right out of the movements he so recklessly threw at his face, Natalia stepped just a bit closer, raising her leg to connect with his gut. Then chopping at his neck afterward so the side of her extremities could unleash a crack after the attack, both palms slammed him way back, but just as he was about to slide back, his hand raised high, and a downward slash immediately rid the woman of her hands, disconnecting them by the wrists. Tips of fingers tainted with blood, he stepped back and went in for a simple kick to the chest, for she was unable to withstand the might his leg contained; sent flying back as her rear formed a crater in the wall she landed in.

"Ugh…"

"Your might is insufficient, for its levels are leagues below that of my own. I'd kill you now, but two months remain, and before I take that skill, I'd rather see what you can do with it first before I use it to kill all of your pathetic teenage friends. But, I'm not so kind as to leave you in temporary pain you can just heal with the snap of your fingers. So, I'll leave you off the hook with just this…"

The range between the Jester and his victim turned smaller, as her nearly-unconscious body had a foot sink into her chest, his hand reached ever closer to her bleeding face, squeezing his fingers together to act like tweezers, Chrollo smirked. It wasn't hard to tighten those extremities around that organ, for while it was slimy, and it could mess around within the confines of the hand, it'd be much more gruesome for him to extend his demonic claws just to add more pain to this excruciating process.

Or rather, that's what would've occurred, if, by the time he'd pinned the helpless girl by her chest, he hadn't arrived. A single upwards slash erasing his arm from the stitch it had to his body, Icarus instantly weaved back, legs gliding off the ground as his black eyes examined the determined face of Karlo, wielding the Blackened Blade.

"Unfortunate. I'm not arrogant enough to face Azazel Karlo, though. If we live long enough, let's meet again… Detective."

Azzy was quick, but not quick enough, for the second he dashed forward with a diagonal slash to cut him in two, Chrollo's being had transformed into a multitude of birds. Crows' feathers fell to the ground as they escaped out the windows surrounding the intact walls, Karlo sheathed the Blade easily with a click as it hid the metal, throwing it over to Katie at the door frame, watching as it vanished, after catching it.

"You okay, kid? You got kinda roughed up there." Azazel asked, stepping forward slowly, watching as Natalia pulled herself out of the hole she'd formed.

Groaning with every move she made, no matter how small, her feet hit the floor, and she could finally heal after such a grueling encounter, watching as her hands returned to normal as if they'd never been lost in the first place. Shaking her head from side to side, she stood tall with the aid of the Detective, lifting her by her right arm.

"Fine, but I kinda feel like this is too easy for us. Is it just me or are you experiencing it too?" Nat queried for reassurance of her elder, to which he nodded, turning his head with a finger on his chin, scratching the lingering facial hair,

"I didn't encounter any dangerous Artifact-wielders, only a plentiful number of the guards widely positioned through the corridors, which was probably thanks to the Jester. From what Ace's told me, he's completely unpredictable and has no regard for order, while he's working with the Evolution Frontier, he has no intention of working FOR them. I'm sure the Founder knows of this, though, and instead of having him watch the Incarnated Artifacts, he much rather assigned him to check… you."

Azazel pointed a finger at her face near the climax of his deduction, to which Natalia couldn't help but scratch her head, a sigh unleashing from cracked lips, the two turning their heads at the sight of Katie entering the peripheral.

"He wanted to activate your innate technique so he could fully steal it when the time came at the appropriate time at Riverton's Center. It seemed he found that more interesting than… these three, somehow."

As if it were engraved in their minds to do so, like some second programming were commanding them to, they turned all in sync to face forward, for the darkness had been extinguished and the light illuminated the truth. Three floating persons adrift in cryostasis had been in front of their eyes, for each of them was someone Katie and Natalia had never seen before, but for Azazel, just seeing these old faces… it brought a smile to his face.

"So these're the people, huh? Kinda underwhelming-" Natalia whispered, "Hey, that guy kinda has a feminine face structure!" She pointed to the one in the middle with parted light-brown hair, to which Katie rolled her eyes with a light chuckle, leading her fellow female friend to turn her head at the sound of her audible enjoyment.

"Hey, earlier, you were kinda feelin' shitty earlier. You feelin' better, I'm guessing?" Smith questioned, to which Kate nodded slowly, the past sound of her father's words comforting her like the heated water in a bathtub on a calm Saturday afternoon.

"Yeah, I just… lost sight of what's important, I guess. Reverting to how I used to be, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't escape the despair my mind was accustomed to. But… before, I didn't have my dad. And before, I didn't have you, either. I'm glad the two of you are here."

There was that other self she remembered in the last, originating from a World that no longer existed, where she was sunk at the bottom of this universe, feeling it all sink into her being. But a puppet bouncing on strings those excuses of beings set up for her, feeling that chain tightens around her throat, but, if she were still a marionette being guided by the orders of a superior, she wouldn't be surrounded by these people.

This warmth from the people she'd cared for, Katie, a sister, Azazel, her father- savior. The trio came for but one goal and no matter what, they were destined to accomplish it, and so, their hands attached to the scanners to the rights of the cryogenic pods. Watching as the lids opened, glass border sliding upward into the stasis pod's innards, the bodies of the Incarnations fell out onto the arms of their saviors.

And now, as their mission seemed to be completed, all that awaited as the path ahead, for what alliance did these new assets of theirs side with?

To Be Continued.