<div style="text-align: center"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(84, 172, 210)"><span style="font-family: 'Lobster Two'"><span style="font-size: 26px"><b><i><u>Seth</u></i></b></span></span></span>​</div><br/>On the topmost floor of a modernly decorated office building stood a man.  He stood tall and regal, his salt and pepper hair as dark as midnight in the low light of the room.  His hands were clasped behind his back as he faced the window, looking out on the twinkling lights of the city below.  His back was to the other being in the room, his head turned slightly so he could keep a careful eye on the Sylph behind him.<br/><br/>Seth stood tall and firm, the fear and anger hiding deep beneath the surface invisible to everyone except for the way he clenched his fingers behind his back.  His eyes looked hard, his lip was drawn into a thin line.  His words would be calm, collected, nearly soothing though he was no siren.<br/><br/>“I need you to do something for me.”  In every sense, it sounded as if the angel was asking the Asian man for a favor. It was far the opposite.  It was an order.<br/><br/>Unlike the last time when he had had three visitors, there were no file folders.  His desk was neat and clean, the redwood polished and shiny.  The room’s only light was from a lamp on the desk, keeping the angel mostly bathed in darkness.<br/><br/>To anyone who looked on the angel, they saw a man who was strong, whole, and proper.  A closer look would show a deep gash across his cheek, blood staining his white shirt underneath his dark jacket and if he were to take a step, he’d walk with a limp.<br/><br/>It wasn’t easy to expel an angel from somewhere, but the demon Deimos had found a way, and Seth had paid the price.  To his health, it was a small price.  He’d heal soon, but the price that would show on his head should he continue to fail was something he couldn’t live with.  Losing the Nephilim would cost him his life and he wasn’t quite ready to die yet.<br/><br/>“I could care less about what happens to the other three, but you get him out.  Then we can negotiate your reward.”  He had no care for the Asian man behind him, but his talents were useful, and exactly what he needed.  Seth valued usefulness and he did whatever it took to keep that usefulness for himself.<br/><br/>~~~<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(247, 218, 100)"><span style="font-family: 'Didact Gothic', 'sans-serif'"><span style="font-size: 26px"><b><i><u>Deimos</u></i></b></span></span></span>​</div><br/>We had a deal,  the voice hissed into his mind as Deimos watched the doors to the castle crumble under the log the villagers used to break it.  Men were shouting for blood and the smirk on the dream demon’s lips only faltered for a second.<br/><br/>“One I intend to make good on,” he hissed back in promise.  He watched as the humans took off after the three.  Sure, he wanted to save Eva and Lucas for himself, but it was so much fun watching the former angel try to fight off the humans she once treasured.  The vampire he wasn’t actually worried about.  She had been a friend of Eva’s and that was the reason he had taken her, but ultimately, friends turned eventually.<br/><br/>Now, came the hissing voice once again.  He hadn’t ever intended to barter with the hellbound soul of Dr. Baker.  He had thought it had been a gift that had dropped in his lap.  If he’d known it would have been such an annoyance, he would have found a different way.<br/><br/>“Taking the human away gives me no hold on them and you’re going to have problems,” he warned.  He took a step towards the group, faltering slightly as he felt a dip in the dream world.<br/><br/>“This is why you never make deals,” he sighs through the annoyance.  It’s time for him and the good doctor to part ways and for them to take their spoils.  His eyes fell on the demon and angel once again just as the world blurred around them.  The human was too far away for Deimos to influence his dream and without the human, he couldn’t keep the other three locked there either.<br/><br/>“Fine,” he mutters just as the beds appear around them and the three of them should be waking up.  He feels weak and drained but makes a move anyway.  Like all demons, he has a special sword.  Unlike a lot of demons, his isn’t channeling hellfire. Lightening laces the blade, making it sharper than any diamond or Angel skin.  He’d killed many angels this way, but to now it was more useful to cut through something else.  Like a demon born in hellfire.<br/><br/>Just as the other demon begins to wake up and move, Deimos strikes however with all of the magic he has used, he is weak and teetering, his sword arc goes wide, cutting through the other demon’s shoulder instead of his head.   It seemed he himself needed as long as they would before he could fight them.<br/><br/>Leaning back against the wall as far from them as he can get, a slow smirk crosses his face.<br/><br/>“Oh vampire, you’re free to go.  I have no quarrel with you.  In fact, I can respect what you can do.  Fire from your hands, tearing out necks for a feast?  Absolutely charming. Do call if you’re looking for a good time.  I would certainly love a feast of you,” he winks at her before turning to look at the angel.<br/><br/>“We still have a score to settle.  Do stick around.  I’d hate to have to stab you in the back,” .he says as he looks her up and down and licks his lips.  “All though I’d love to look at the backside before I destroy it.”  Finally, he looks towards the demon, his blue eyes narrowing.<br/><br/>“Sooner or later you will have to return to hell.  I’d prefer it to be sooner.  Let me make it easy on you?”  Deimos spins his blade tauntingly.  Before he can take a step, the building rocks, and creaks, causing them all to stumble.  He’s going to murder the angel for coming back.  It takes him a moment for him to realize that it’s not the same angel as before and that it’s coming from deep inside this building.<br/><br/>He glances back at Lucas with a dark smirk.<br/><br/>[/CODE]<br/><div style="text-align: center"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(153, 0, 204)"><span style="font-size: 26px"><span style="font-family: 'Allura', 'cursive'"><i><u>Dexter</u></i></span></span></span>​</div><br/>Dex wakes on the cold floor.  The first thing he smells is scorched concrete as it scratches against his cheek. The blond groans softly, rolling over to his back as something stabs him in the arm. He blinks his eyes open slowly, fumbling towards his elbow to pull out a needle.  He’s awake much faster after that and even the burned remains can’t fool him.  He knows exactly where he is.<br/><br/>Whatever is floating through his system keeps him calm though, but he can feel the panic crawling like bugs under his skin.  Why was he here?  Was it all a dream?  Had everything been a dream?  He didn’t see a sigh of Eva or Rose.  More importantly, he didn’t see a sign of Lucas.  He couldn’t even feel him.  Certainly, if they were alive...if they were real, one of them would be near.  Lucas would be here, but he wasn’t.<br/><br/>As he looks around again, hoping to ward off the panic, the room looks as if an explosion as gone off...recently.  There’s a can on one of the shelves rolling around, teetering near the edge of the counter but it doesn’t fall.  The bed was against the wall, on its side.<br/><br/>This place should have burned down a decade ago, he thought it had, but what if he dreamed it up?  What if he was still trapped here?