He's Not on the List! ((Now Open to Midnight Characters)

It was long past closing time as the barkeep poured a mug of cider for the sole patron remaining. The man's hands shook as he carried the mug to a table in the far corner of the bar, where sat a man in his mid-twenties (or so the barkeep reckoned), dressed all in black, who every time the barkeep tried to bring up the subject of closing his establishment, met the old man with a look which suggested forcing him to leave would be a bad idea, if he valued his fingers.

So, the old man worked overtime, serving him drinks when requested and keeping logs on the fire when it started to die down too much. The younger man sat in almost total silence as he drank and carved an intricate skull onto the table with a sewing needle a middle-aged woman had accidently left behind earlier that evening. Though unaware of it, the bartender was playing host to Corinthius, better known in the wider world as the Onyx Skull, the most wanted killer in most human lands. Normally one to shy away from public places, Corinthius was quietly celebrating his 28th birthday with a few well-deserved drinks. It wasn't often he took a night off. After finishing his drink, he stood up from his seat and tossed a small bag of coin on the bar counter, and muttered a quick thankyou to the bartender, before picking up his weapons and overcoat from beside the door (in this rather more rugged of human kingdoms, carrying weapons was common place for most men, and even women) and proceeded to walk down the deserted back alley which the bar opened on to, and turned onto a larger street, headed towards the city gates.

At the city gates was a man in ragged brown travelling garb, his hood up and a worn walking staff in hand, along with several satchels and pouches carrying all manner of equipment. The guards allowed him to pass by and he walked calmly down the street in the opposite direction of the oncoming Corinthius, seeming a perfectly innocent traveller and elderly by the way he walked steadily and slightly hunched over. He wasn't slow though, or out of shape and as he passed by Corinthius he bumped into him, offered a short apology and then continued.

In Corinthius' hand he'd find a folded parchment, with it was the name of a target and their location in the northern mountain passes, along with an offered sum of money and a point to collect that money on delivery of proof the target was eliminated. If Corinthius turned to get a glimpse of the man, he'd find he was gone from sight, which may seem impossible because the street was long and the man walked too steadily to reach the end of it and turn a corner before then.

Corinthius offered a brief apology to the man as they bumped into each other, continuing to walk for several minutes before finally looking at the parchment in his hand. Though he was confused as to how the man knew he was an assassin for hire (making a mental note to kill him upon receipt of payment to ensure his identity remained a secret), the sum of money offered was too much to pass on the contract. He memorised the name and location quickly before taking a match to the parchment and tossing it aside. He then made his way to one of his safehouses in a village near the city, wherein he gathered essential supplies and equipment for his task at hand: rations, weapons and other tools of his trade.

It took him several days to reach the to mountain pass to the north, travelling on horseback most of the way. When he was a day out, he took to walking - making it easier to avoid detection should any scouting parties be in the area. After hours of scanning the mountainous region ahead of him, he saw no sign of a tower. Thinking either the man was a lunatic and had wasted his time, or that the directions were wrong he nearly gave up, when he spotted a strange sight on a cliff not far from his location: two men who looked like guards from their weapons and armour, but they seemed to be guarding nothing - just standing there. Curiosity took the better of him as he took out a pair of climbing claws and began to scale the sheer cliff face. When he reached the top, he wasted no time in taking the guards out - decapitating both of them with his sword after throwing a smoke pellet down to mask his movements. He inspected the immediate area, finding strange markings on the ground at one spot. When he knelt to inspect them, however, he felt a sudden pulling sensation as he was dragged through a portal and deposited on the outskirts of an encampment in the process of being constructed around a large, foreboding tower. He grinned to himself as he quickly and stealthily made his way through the camp, only narrowly avoiding detection on a few occasions.

He figured to himself that the man he had been sent to kill would be the leader of this organisation that had set up camp here, and deduced that if he was like any other leader of any other organisation who owned a large tower, he'd be in the highest room in said tower. He decided to wait for nightfall before scaling the outside of the tower, the better to avoid being seen - so he patiently waited inside a tent whose owner wouldn't be using it anymore (he had seen to that personally) for the sun to set before quickly and effortlessly scaling the tower and entering through a window about two floors down from the top. Now the hard part starts, he thought to himself, as he peeked out of the door to the room he had ended up in, noting that there were several guards patrolling the staircase leading to the room he assumed his target was occupying. Through luck, or by some miracle, he managed to slip past them and quietly entered the room, where he found a man standing by his desk with his back turned.

Slowly, Corinthius approached the man - his target - and drew his sword quietly. When in range, he struck out almost faster than the human eye could follow, burrying his sword deep into his target's neck and twisted the blade to ensure a quick kill.

Their breathing increased as the passion burned between them. The two inquisitors kissed heatedly, one of the two women thrusting the other into the wall and beginning to unfasten her armour. The other quickly stopped her, looking around the empty top floor office, her breathing ragged but her expression cautious.

"What if the boss comes up here?" She asked, they were in his room after all which encompassed the entire top floor.

"Forget about it, he's out in the camp, he'll be a while." Her partner replied, then planted a trail of kisses along her neck which soon saw the protesting end.

Their act continued until both of them have their tops nearly hanging off, but then they feel the sudden prickle on the back of their necks, like they were being watched. Turning their heads they looked in shock at Isaan sat in his chair, his feet up and a book in his hand but his eyes were very obviously on them. He smirked, snapping the book closed and leaning forward to place it on the table. Afterwards he leaned back comfortably, crossed his arms and indicated with his hand for them to continue.

"Oh, do go on." He offered, keeping a totally straight face.

But they didn't go on, both women with their cheeks crimson with shame and quickly straightening up their clothing made their apologies and rushed down the steps. Isaan just burst out laughing in their wake, a grin spreading from ear to eat as he stood up and went to pick up his book, but his hand paused suddenly. Two of his people had just been killed by some unknown assailant, both mortal, but he didn't feel whoever had done it was any arm commanded by the dream world's sinister prisoner.

As the day passed he secretly passed along his orders, the other immortals in the area would naturally have sensed the deaths too, but he had ordered them to pretend not to have noticed. When the unknown attacker finally made his move, the sentries on the stairs moved away the moment Isaan walked to the table with his back to the stairs, that was the signal for them to clear the way for their intruder. Then, slowly he felt the man approach, before he didn't so much feel but noticed the blade of a sword sticking out of his throat and twisting.

"Thank you," he said, sounding relieved. "I've had an itch there all day."

Rounding on the undoubtedly shocked man, he raised the handgun in his hand and shot twice, once in each thigh - one for each of the people he'd lost. A chair had somehow appeared behind Corinthius, because when his legs inevitably gave way due to the holes now in them, he'd fall back right into a chair and feel like he was stuck there. Isaan stood there, the sword still sticking out of his neck, looking not even remotely troubled by it being there other than the obvious discomfort of lowering his head a bit to look at him.

"So," he began, finally reaching back with his free hand to pull the sword out, there was no injury left behind, not even a drop of blood either. "I can gather from your reaction that you had no idea what I am, which means that whoever sent you was either a complete idiot, or also didn't know."

A flash from somewhere behind Corinthius indicated the typically showy arrival of Jowan, who immediately approached and peered directly at the incapacitated man. He tapped him a few times, far too quickly for even the fastest mortal reflexes to avoid, before stepping away and grinning rather disturbingly.
"Hehe...we were wondering when he would be coming. Black skull, black heart eh? Yes, they whispered that his name is immortal here even if he is not. Many faces, many lives, hmm?" His grin grew wider and he clapped his hands together like a schoolchild.
"What do you think Isambard? We think he is...suitable. Many dark skills, dark and stabby. Like a shadowy bumblebee." He then proceeded to burst out laughing at his own joke.

"Oh, Isaanhoe? Next time can you not scare the sweet flowers away? They were- OWW! Sorry dearest, I didn't mean it! Wilting petals they were!"

Liandri rushed through the compound, Miso flailing underneath her arms.

"Isaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan-sama, Isaan Isaan Isaaaaaan!!"

She flails and pants as she enters the room, her face looking horrified as she sees the sword stick out of his neck.

"Isaan-sama...are...are...you okay?"

She seems to be attempting to hold back tears as she pins Miso close to her chest, bottom lip wobbling slightly. Liandri completely disregards everyone elses presence in the room and begins to tug on Isaan's sleeve, pouting up at him concerned.

"Come on, we have to sort that out right away, we know what happened the last time you left a sword in for too long!"

Corinthius gritted his teeth as he struggled to move in the chair, fighting against the pain of the two gunshot wounds in his legs and the invisible force pinning him in place. His thoughts were racing, trying to come up with plausible explanations as to how exactly his target had survived such a blow. The arrival of two of his allies didn't help matters for Corinthius, but he stopped struggling, realising that escape was impossible. Then, he laughed slightly.

"Congratulations. I never thought anyone would best me." he stared at Isaan as he spoke, maintaining eye contact, "My life is forfeit, then." he bowed his head as far as he could considering the power holding him in place, exposing his neck for a clean execution. His code of honour demanded that he die: failure wasn't an option in his line of work, especially failure which left witnesses.

"I'm fine," he said, holding the sword that had previously been piercing his neck in his right hand.

Isaan looked down at the worried face of Liandri and felt a pang of guilt, he really did hate making her worry even when the concern was unwarranted. Affectionately he placed his hand atop her head and ruffled her hair gently, a reassuring smile spread across his face. He didn't show many this kind of care and warmth. His focus was captured again however by the man in the room, Jowan seemed to be taken with him some in regards to his apparent talent which Isaan couldn't disregard as being anything less than impressive either.

"You think he would be useful, Jowan?" He asked, eyes on the man whose head was lowered and didn't appear to be paying attention to the occupants of the room.

The mention of the two women in the form of 'sweet flowers' made him smirk, but he didn't address the request in any way as Corinthius had finally seen fit to talk. So he had some manner of code that he lived by and seemed perfectly content to allow his life to be forfeit by the laws of that code, Isaan looked at the sword that had once been thrust through his throat and then once more at Corinthius. How convenient to have a code that would allow for death so easily, it took all the trouble of fighting to survive out of the equation and that annoyed him to a degree.

Lifting the handgun still in his hand he pressed the weapon to the top of Corinthius' head, his face a picture of calm as he would have absolutely no trouble killing this man without feeling the slightest bit of guilt, it was no more than he deserved for taking the lives of two of Isaan's people. His face turned to a picture of rage all of a sudden, this arrogant mortal who would dare to raise his blade to his people, to take the lives of those he had brought in from lives of poverty and discrimination, taught by his own hand to make something of them beyond what the universe seemed to deem fitting.

Yes, after all, why should he live when they did not?

Because there was opportunity here, that was why. Slowly Isaan's face returned to a visage of calm and he lowered the gun, holstering it before turning Corinthius' sword in his hand so that he held it by the very top of the hilt with the rest of the handle offered to Corinthius for him to take. He would no longer feel himself bound to the chair by some great force and more surprising perhaps, the wounds in his legs had healed over completely with only the holes in his clothing and the blood they had let leak before their mending to show there had been any injury at all.

"Your life is mine now," he commanded, it was not a request.

"Oh, indupitably Isaac. The question is, will it be used as a tool or useful as an ally?" He giggled a little at some joke known only to him, rubbing his hands together. Afterward however he grew oddly still and quiet, seeming content to watch the proceedings. He did seem to stiffen though when the gun was raised, murmuring softly "Be steady Dark Prince. The candle of truth is unlit in his mind...he stands little higher on the cliff than those he extinguished once did..."

He relaxed a little when Isaan seemed to calm however, his faintly maniacal smile returning. "And so the beekeeper dons his mask and sprays his controlling mist! But what shall the Ebony Bumblebee do? Shall it buzz willingly off to the nearest flower or perhaps sting it's master?" He tilted his head to one side and frowned. "Or perhaps it will simply give us some honey. What do you think dearest? We have not had the sweet glue in some time..."

"If I may interject, Isaan-sama..."

Liandri cleared her throat and tapped her chin thoughtfully, looking Corinthius up and down in deep thought. Although she appeared around ten years old in age, she was highly intelligent. She pulled away from Isaan and dropped down in front of Corinthius, sitting cross-leggedly.

"He'll be useful."

She cocked her head to one side and giggled.

"Jowan is funny too. I can make use of him, this one. It will be a good lesson to my otherwise, seemingly incompetent units."

She points to Corinthius briefly before laying on her back and smiling up towards Isaan and Jowan.

"Can we keep him? Pleaaaase~"

The voice in Jowan's head spoke out again, its familiar feminine giggle vibrating through his head.

"Dear Jowan. The only honey in this room is you, sweet lips. Why don't you share it with me more often? I feel so ignored... but then, if you were smothered in honey, hmm... Don't mind me, I need to daydream for a while."

Corinthius breathed the slightest sigh of relief as Isaan lowered his gun. Though he was prepared to die, he was still only human, capable of fear in the face of oblivion. Casting a quick glance around at those gathered, his gaze eventually settled on Isaan. He regarded the being before him, for he clearly wasn't simply a man: no sorcerer in the world could survive such a blow and then heal his would-be assassin's wounds so readily and with so little effort and lack of obvious spell-casting. His mind wandered back to the old man who had given him his latest contract, and while he prided himself on being able to remember a man's face with only the briefest glance at a crudely drawn picture and subsequently spot the man in a crowded boulevard in the dead of night, he realised he couldn't remember a single distinguishable feature about him. Then the thought struck that perhaps this had all been planned - people often harped on about beings with higher purposes for mortals, and though he had always scoffed at the very idea of it, the evidence was clear to see. His train of thought was almost broken by the insane bable coming from the one identified as Jowan by the young girl, but he managed to retain it and focused his gaze again on Isaan, before getting off his chair and kneeling with both knees on the ground and his clenched fists on the floor, though he looked directly into Isaan's eyes.

"My life is yours, Isaan," he began, again picking up the name from the young girl "However I have one condition: I will hold no secrets from you and tell you no lies, but if I am to be your comrade, servant or even your slave - that choice is entirely up to you - then I would have you do me the same courtesy. I want to know how you cheated death and healed me without so much as blinking, and I want to learn how to do just the same."

All while talking, he didn't drop eye contact with Isaan, his voice remained level, and he remained perfectly still.

"Yes, well, let's leave the sweet glue until later, shall we?" He suggested, not entirely sure what the sweet glue was referring to but deciding he didn't really need to find out.

Amused by Liandri's behaviour, Isaan squat down beside her so that they were more similar in height, nodding along with her talking about how useful Corinthius could be. He peered at her when she lay on her back and begged them to let them man stay, Isaan genuinely looked to be considering it when Corinthius finally spoke for himself. He turned his head toward the man, who was now in a position of submission like a vassal addressing their lord, which was made stranger because Isaan was still squat side-on to him next to Liandri.

He regarded him seriously for a moment, locking eyes with him and impressed by the man's unwillingness to break contact. Not many were willing to lock eyes with someone who had just bested them so completely, especially one who could easily do away with them in a moment and the man shouldn't have any illusions that Isaan had not felt his fear when the gun was to his head. Eventually the serious expression broke into a smile and Isaan rose to his feet properly, giving a small shrug with his hands raising and his head tilted, as if giving in to some mundane request.

"Well, if you're going to give me the puppy dog eyes." He remarked, smirking and taking a few steps back. "Liandri, I'll need your help if you would."

There's a popping sound a whiteboard appears in the room covered in sickeningly cute chibi drawings of angels, devils, the basic layout of the immortal realm, and some key figures in immortal society - some of whom have no business looking as adorable as the drawings make them. Isaan and Liandri would both be standing in lab coats, and Isaan pushes a pair of lensless glasses up his nose with one hand in the pocket of his lab coat. Liandri would be holdin the pointer for the board, and Isaan looks at her in all seriousness as if this was a completely normal thing to be doing.

"Please, go ahead and explain to our guest. I'll interject if need be." He said, nodding her along and pushing his glasses up his nose casually.

For several moments Jowan seemed to suddenly become incredably awkward, for no reason apparent to anyone but himself. The reason for this was that the predominant voice in his mind had stayed true to her word and was now producing some rather lewd daydreams that were of course being plastered all over his consciousness. Completely oblivious to the goings on in the room, he began to turn an impressive shade of red and began fumbling with the front of his robes, trying to adjust their position and hide a reaction that was becoming increasingly obvious.

Likely drawing some odd looks if any of the others happened to turn in his direction, he started to edge away with a look of embarassment upon his face before finally freezing, facepalming, and yelling in a slightly strangled tone "Urk! STOPPIT! STOP LICKING THE HONEY!" He then paused, looking about and the eyes undoubtaly now on him and blushed even harder than before before muttering "Deareeeest, I've tooold you, you really can't do that while we..." He trailed off and tried to return his attention to the events in the room, doing his best to act casual. "Ahem! Yes! We are sorry for the interference. Why have you become inverted penguins?" He was presumably reffering to their lab coats...of course, who knew with him?

Liandri huffed and folded her arms, looking down in front of her new students, Jowan and Corinthius.

"Pay attention or this pointy stick will go so far up your anal cavity I'll have to use you to explain Isaan's heritage!"

She cleared her throat into her hand and a small chibi version on Baelze appeared on the pull down screen, as she spoke explaining the heritage of immortals, their respective chibi selves would also appear.

"Baelze is the God of Elements, the founding Father of Devils himself. He is what we call an Elder God, of course, one of the First Born. He had seven children, of whom each represent the seven sins, many consider these children to be abominations as they waged war on the mortals that Baelze despises so much. This was due to the mortal woman that had tortured and murdered Baelze's wife. The seven children were born, and are most powerful in this descending order: Pride, Envy, Wrath, Sloth, Greed, Gluttony, Lust. Following from this we have the Keepers of two respective worlds; Krell, the God of Chaos and Lord of the Underworld and Mael, the God of Order and Lord of the Overworld. Expanding upon this we also have the Gods and the eight Lords, as you can see on the screen."

She cleared her throat and blushed slightly as the chibi version of Isaan began to appear on the drop down screen, a small pink heart appeared next to his head and hanging onto his sleeve was an even smaller and chibi version of Liandri.

"Uhum. So more presently we have Isaan, who is currently the Lord of the Underworld, and unquestionably one of the most powerful Gods we have ever seen, he is the Lord Inquisitor of Midnight, and I'm sure you know about our little organisation. Or at least I hope so. He is what we would call a Devil, and a pure blood one at that. I would explain what the race itself is about, but I feel it is not my place to do so as I am what we call Fay."

She looked down nervously, almost ashamed of her heritage, and adjusted her eye patch appropriately, her emerald green eye being covered by the eye patch.

"I can explain it in more detail...but do you have any questions?"

Following Jowan's outburst and the cartoonish lesson from Liandri, Corinthius' stoic expression finally broke, turning at first to a look of utter confusion, to the slightest smile as he shook his head slowly from side to side. "I'm sure I'll be able to pick the rest up as I go. So, you're a bunch of Gods and Immortals, huh? If I hadn't seen how easily you shrug off a wound I might have called you madmen, but...I guess anything's possible. Colour me intrigued."

He got to his feet, sheathing his sword having placed it on the ground when he knelt before Isaan, and bowed his head slightly. He knew the coming weeks, months or even years of training would be difficult as he entered into a world he knew essentially nothing of. Awaiting his first orders as a member of this strange band of Immortals, Corinthius remained standing in place with his hands clasped firmly at the small of his back.