Aussie Psychic/Hunter Rolling Through

[darksmokerising]

 That demon ruined my favourite jacket.

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[windblowingwesterly]

Well, that's unfortunate.

[Did it just get breezy in here?]

[darksmokerising]

Honestly. Unfortunate is such an understatement.

[She pulls out a bottle of Glenlivet from her trunk and fishes around for a cup she's stashed away in a bag. The aforementioned coat is on fire at her feet and she scowls as she stomps it out. And yeah, it was kinda...breezy.]

[windblowingwesterly]

I suppose so. Did you take care of the demon?

[He's never been much for smiting, but if it's still running amuck, he can probably handle it.]

[darksmokerising]

Ah. There you are.

[With two tumblers in hand, she boosts herself onto the trunk and makes a face. If she'd sensed a threat from her new companion, she might have acted on it but since there wasn't any, she was tired and her lip was starting to bleed and swell. Screw it. A drink was deserved.

Her knee hurt like a sonuva bitch and she was going to have to do something about the slice on her calf.]

Demon's not gonna be a problem for as long as it takes it to crawl out of Hell. [Her nose scrunches a little as she pours a finger of two liquor into a glass.] I'm guessing his friend might be along in a bit, though, if you feel like a fight. Otherwise, I was gonna drink a farewell toast to the dearly departed and hit the road back to the motel.

Care to join me in a toast to the fallen?

[She was mad about more than the damned jacket. The demon's host hadn't made it despite her best efforts.]

[windblowingwesterly]

I usually don't drink while I'm working... But for you, I'll make an exception.

[He accepts the second glass. He's no Dionysus, but he does like a good drink.]

when you forget to hit >> post

[darksmokerising]

I think [she says this thoughtfully, cradling her drink as she regards the jacket and the house she's exited ] that certain moments in life should have at least one drink attached to them, preferably in the company of others. Birth and death are the clear winners.

[Merlan sits cross-legged, her expression somber.]

May peace take Takamara Jiro, the man whose body was taken and his soul chained, to the land of his kin and the divinity of his choosing. May his family, too, find peace in this moment of his freedom.

[Though her prayer is quiet, she hopes it finds the proper ears, for not everyone believes in the same way. There is nothing left of the body, now, just ash swirling in the wind. His body will never host another demon.]