Joe followed Salem to the black pit. He took the shadows in stride, making a Christ the Redeemer pose as it enveloped him. He stepped forward, finishing his step in Salem's family room. He blinked. Nothing had changed in the room, it seemed. Mary was still asleep and it was still nighttime. He searched the room, under the chair he had been sitting on watching movies. He went down the hallway, which was no longer eerily black. He reentered the family room and turned his back to Salem. "Is the dickbutt still there?" he said, obviously joking about the dickbutt but not the marking itself. He sort of motioned to it before turning around.<br/><br/>He sighed tiredly and made a beeline towards the chair which he had claimed as is own. He practically jumped into it and then cracked his back satisfyingly. He eyed Salem for a moment and then looked as though he was about to say something. However, he decided better of it and turned over in the chair. He was suddenly so very tired, despite no time passing at all. He fell asleep almost immediately.<br/><br/>However, it had seemed as though Joe had only closed his eyes for a second when he woke up. He groaned, light piercing through his eyelids. He turned over on the chair, back sore because he spent the whole night in it. He brought his hands up to his face and rubbed his eyes. With a huge yawn, he slowly opened his eyes to face the ghostly mask of his demon partner. He gasped, cupping his hand over his mouth to keep himself from making too much noise. "No, fuck, go away," he whispered harshly. Aamu blinked and turned her head sideways. "No, leave, shoo. Out. Go back to limbo or wherever you come from." Aamu seemed different somehow, even more faded than usual. She seemed less than opaque and the usually vibrant colors of her mask were muted. Different or not, she gave a little upset nod and crawled up the apartment's wall, passing through the ceiling without making a noise. "Salem, you awake?"