Thread: A Dish Best Served...Dead (Yoshie x WorldEater)

RE A Dish Best Served...Dead Yea, him and I . . . we got a history. I know how he works, he said as he took the napkin. The place was obvious, an old hiding spot Rat used to use when things got hairy. Of course, Rat was not the type to stay in one place and he didn't know how much Mikan knew of Rat. Names, after all, were very misleading things. Nevertheless, when Winry touched his hand, he gladly pulled it to his lips, giving it a soft kiss before he let her rest it on his shoulder. I won't be long . . . I won't be dead either . . . just don't expect to taste me yet. With one last wink, and a nod to Mikan, a vortex of purple chaotic energy ripped itself to pieces as a maw of terrifying teeth lined the edges. The very room shook terribly, causing the glasses to shake and the tables to move and without another second to waste, he bolted for the portal as it closed behind him. Be wary of my servant. Do not push him too far for he may find himself unable to accept you. The purple energy remained in the room, writhing and feeling every inch of its existence as a mere corrupted essence of his self remained to stay around. On the other side of the world, rested a very small individual . He, like Slake, had black hair, short enough to where it barely reached his ears. His single shirt should not have saved him from the cold, but Rat was not human to say the least. Red eyes glowed from his eye sockets as he searched about in the darkness. Though pantless, the boy trudged around with his bare feet seemingly unaffected and all this during a snowstorm. Wind and snow sloshed around and onto him, attacking the boy as best as it could, but for whatever reason, the creature pushed on. This was Rat and this was where Rat lived. Where had he come from? Why had he come to this world? None truly had an answer. The dark gods had many servants and spawn, but Rat simply did not fit their categories, nor did he fit within the demon hierarchy. Where he did fit, however, was within an old circle long forgotten. The Watchful End, a group of seven bound by a code to balance . . . something the history had been faded after all. All rumors pointed to him being a part of that seven and so had the one known as Slake, but that man was no where in Rat's quiet little mind. Just when he least expected it, something came from the dark as Rat turned to face his opponent. His inhuman senses prevented any from simply walking up and sneaking behind him . . . but this was no sneak attack. He tilted his head as he watched his back, the familiar energy called to him, but he did not answer. He simply waited until he could see the face. How ironic that it would be the very face of Slake. Hello, you are here. he said in a cold, endless emotionless embrace. What are you, friend? Slake watched his red eyed compatriot, or ex-compatriot, and simply watched with a glare. Slake wasn't too tall, but even he was two heads taller than the emotionless little Rat. The truth of the matter was that Rat looked like a child, despite being probably older than he was. Of course, by this point, Slake was not interested in history or whys and hows he had already gotten details long in days past when things were simpler. No longer . . . no longer. Been a while, you little shit. You miss me? Rat tilted his head as his neck cracked and twisted as he continued to give his emotionless gaze. Oh . . . you are Slake. I remember you. Slake grit his teeth, spitting at the ground before glaring at Rat. You've been awfully busy I do not know what you are talking about. Slake laughed, Save it for the fucking judge . . . save it when I break that useless little skull of your's in. My servant fights, Yul'Turon said, shuddering at the feeling, So long I've waited for my power to flex . . . so long its been since my single servant has accepted his fate. A silence came before he talked again. Do you know why his name is . . . Slake?