[ 1v1 ] watched it wither and die ( aleria & otto ) fin

[Bittiface]

"Otto Graves. Full Hunter in the Death Division at Deus, originally from Louisiana." He drawled helpfully, although his tone was bored as was his nature. Hearing her prattle off her full title and birthplace made it feel like he was playing some fantasy game or reading one of Bix's books.

"Louisiana is a southern state in America... the Human World, to you. I guess you wouldn't know much about it, huh?" Otto shifted, straightening up. "So? Interested in going on a field trip to the island?"  

[its me debz]

How impressive-- A full hunter was surely better than a half hunter. Perhaps they came in quarters. His accent was unfamiliar: they'd never heard such a twang in Halloween, but it was surely possible. Some demons further West distorted their vowels in a way almost like Otto did.

"I know not of the human world, except scant little of its musical composers." Aleria cast their eyes downwards, rubbing a knuckle nervously. What if the rest were not so kind? What if they did seek purchase, seek a place to belong and call home-- and did not find it? What if they were not good enough? Would they want something as simple as a rural demon with no unique talents?

Aleria nodded once, before voicing their assent. "Yes. It is what I desire."

They had to try. They had to.
 

[Bittiface]

He'd done it. He'd convinced a student to come with him, no bullshit, all on his own. He hadn't even gotten Aleria to the island yet, and he felt like he'd won something.

The teen shifted, hopping down to the floor. He again was met with the realization that this demon was a handful of heads taller than him, and that it's coat would likely drag on the ground on him much like a child wearing his father's trench coat.

Otto shifted, handing her coat back before taking her hand. Mostly for her to feel comfortable, but also easier transportation. He pulled out the pendant from his pocket, uttering the magic words.  

[its me debz]

Aleria blinked down at Otto, slipping back into their coat without a word, purely pensive. Curiously, they gingerly held the boil's hand, surprised by the contact until they were whisked away, gone from the dreary Haunted House, off to an island so far away.

They were ready.