<span style="font-style: italic"><span style="font-size: 85%; line-height: 116%;">The following post will not affect anyone's posting order or the collaborated work itself.<br/>The rest of the pact will be written in my blog in a 1v1 so that it doesn't distract anyone from the story itself. <a class="postlink" href="https://creativefreedomrpg.com/blog.php?u=110586&amp;b">LINK</a><br/>We will still reply back to others as if nothing happened, since the events in this 1v1 should only have lasted 2 seconds in the physical world that is our setting right now.</span></span><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/>Isolde struggled through the trance and managed to squeeze Erlind’s hand, discretely. She realized that some how Darcy was declaring war on not only the humans but the demons as well. Where had she hatched up a scheme like this? Good and evil were a balanced set of actions in the world. Without one, there was not the other and vice versa. Like light and dark, or day and night, good and evil were necessary. Darcy was telling all here that she was destroying any and everything that had to do with freewill. Isolde had a deeply chilling feeling. Darcy was powerful but not that powerful. A new Evil like the world had never known was on the horizon.<br/><br/>Darcy nodded in satisfaction and yielded the mic. The people around her began to stretch and to murmur to one another as yet another speaker came to the podium.<br/><br/><br/><br/>__________________________________________________<br/><br/>Blinking from Darcy's speech, Erlind stayed quiet for a long moment. He wasn't paying attention to the attendees reactions. All he knew is that he was sucked into this mysterious woman's world the moment Adolph Hitler ended his speech. He instinctively tried to cast 'it' away, whatever this 'it' was. The resistance slowly faded.<br/><br/>As he broke eye contact with the woman, he felt as if there was an additional presence in his brain. Truth to be said, he felt weak. He could see his Golden Seal worn by Hitler on his fourth finger, but even Hitler did not have such powers over him. Since he was not sure just what exactly happened, he decided not to do anything, and to remain calm and in control of his own actions and reactions. The message was not clear. He sat there absent-minded. Whenever he tried to decipher this enigma, it would feel like there is always something in his brain that prevented him from looking more into the issue.<br/><br/>Erlind raised chin so that his forehead was facing the ground and shifted his eyes to the side, Kai's direction and then Isolde's. His eyebrows furrowed and it formed a deep wrinkle in the skin, on the forehead between the eyebrows. Something about Kai's chaotic presence always brought out the nastiest of nasty in neutral-evil self.<br/><br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">“Erlind?”</span>Isolde whispered urgently.<br/><br/>Erlind parted his lips to speak, but no sound came out. For the first time in ages, since that one time Raphael chased him to Egypt, he felt horrified. Losing control of himself was worse than anything else. He took Isolde's hand in his.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">“Can you get us out of here?”</span>Isolde's voice came again.<br/><br/>The Demon opened his mouth and looked at Isolde. He suddenly knew what he had to do. The fear of losing control a second time blurred his thoughts and made his heart race. He looked at Isolde. Erlind was a tough guy but the truth is that he was losing control. Not only Adolph bounded himself to him, but the presence of Isolde made him soft and way too gentle for his own good. Goodness belonged to those that God favored, and Asmodeus was not of those. He disagreed to let her beautiful face haunt his thoughts any longer. The soft, gentle and warm hold he had on the Witch's hand turned into that of somebody who was about to rip the hand apart from the wrist. While his behavior looked completely normal to others for he tried to look as calm as he could, his physical contact with Isolde spoke of something angry and threatening. Erlind grasped her hand fiercely. He could not think straight, and he only thought the worst. It was time for Isolde to sign her deal, he thought.<span style="font-style: italic">"We're not going anywhere, yet, but it's time for a little trip."</span>He murmured to Isolde, eyes locked on Darcy.<br/><br/>Heat surged as he comforted himself back in his seat. The Demon felt dumb and stupid, surrendering ever so sweetly to her seduction. Time to break the spell. As he used his Demonic energy to distort the time, the only people affected in the room were Isolde and himself. For others, everything looked normal. For one that was under a Temporal Illusion journey, his or her sense of reality is distorted, resulting in a blurring of the distinction between the imaginary and the real. Isolde and Asmodeus were also physically seated in the Auditorium, but spiritually elsewhere. It was something a little closer to an Astral Projection. Time now simply did not exist for the two. The illusion made it so that no matter how much longer this temporal illusion lasted, it only covered about two seconds of their real time. But while he had modified her perception of time, she was in complete control over herself in their spiritual journey.<br/><br/><br/>They were now walking down a golden adorned hallway. They paused in front of Erlind's suite and this last yanked the door open and grasped Isolde's forearm tightly. Scents of rosemary and sage drifted upon the air and around them as they walked into the first room of the rustic and dim-lit open-concept suite, the<a class="postlink" href="http://i57.tinypic.com/16jq0qh.jpg"><span style="color: #BFBF40">Guest room</span></a>.<br/><br/>He unfastened his tie and dropped it on a large couch. He clapped his hands together over his mouth and locked a cerulean gaze on his next possible prey. At that point, he did not much care how bad he might have made her feel, or how wrongly she felt about the entire situation. All he wanted was her soul. Were her colleagues worthy enough of such sacrifice?<span style="font-style: italic">"You know, they say that if you spend too much time thinking about a thing, you'll never get it done. So shall we get to business, Miss Devereaux?"</span>He spoke to her in a soft husky voice. The tone itself was not threatening, but the eyes communicated something else.