"This is your final chance, half-breed. You will not defy us. You will not fail." They were strange shadows against the darkness, all broken angles and bizarre hunched limbs, their faces obscured by slithering waves of evil and hate that would have choked and eaten a lesser being. In the bowels of Hell there were demons with cities, civilizations and culture, countless races and types with their own varied ways. It was in the deepest parts, where only a few creatures dwelled, that the ancient "true" demons lived, animalistic beasts whose indecipherable, alien minds spun over atrocities that even the languages of their lesser kin had no words to describe. The horrible shades that spoke were not among them, but rather the ones that served under those who served directly under the great ones. "You have long been our assassin and served competently. Only this saves your life. Your recent insubordination will not be tolerated again, Hassae Hero." A young man stood in the half circle of demons that surrounded him, coughing to interrupt their anger. "You spit less when you say it. It's pronounced 'Hah-zey Halo." "Your name is insect! Tool! You are nothing but dust to be shaped and then thrown away!" Venomous flames streaked across the room. The half-demons were barely accepted even as slaves, thought of as target practice by most. But their lineage often gave them an entirely different set of strengths and weaknesses from purebloods, making them fit for unusual tasks, if you could find the right one. Hassae had been exploited for centuries for his disarmingly different personality and ability to kill in ways the average target was not prepared to defend against, but his human half made him both rebellious and inquisitive, something the masters could not endure. "You shall not fail this task, or we shall ruin you! You will die, your children will die, your name smeared across history in a bloody streak of slanderous lies and then forgotten! You shall not defy! Go!" "So this time, I'm NOT supposed to nail the daughter on the way out, or...?" "GO!" The half-breed shrugged, and then casually left to go about his business. ****** So first thing to get out of the way; I defied them. Man, those guys love their voice. Ruin me? I don't even HAVE children. At least I don't think I do...I'm honestly not sure how that sort of thing works with my kind. But I was tired of playing assassin for them, I mean I'm more than that. I'm no murderer! I'm just an ass who likes to kill people! That's totally different. So I had to get the Hell out of Hell, but that just left me bored in the world of the living. Until they started sending demihounds to flay me and whatever. I'd been to the surface before, I just needed some shelter. Heroes! Yeah, I'd killed a bunch of them over the years, they seemed like real nice people. I found a big group and called sanctuary. You can still do that, right? So a bunch wanted to kill me on the spot, but the majority had some honor code or something, and felt obligated to take me in. So now I live with the heroes and help them with some things and everyone loves everyone! I'm not going back no matter how many times the Sentinels try to kill me.
Are we there yet?
Emotion Control: Superior
"So she called and told me to never speak to her again, right? I mean, all I did was complain in front of the class that her big giant circus fat lady underwear was clogging up the washing machine, and she totally freaks. I need that water for my showers, you know? And she's like, what do mhrgmphu-" "Swallow the damn chips!" Glorywall hissed at him, trying to keep his voice from rising. One of Khazan's many banks was being robbed, and he had gone to meet the police at their line of cars outside the building. It would have been idiotic to leave Hassae alone at his house, but ever since arriving there he'd produced a bag of chips from nowhere and proceeded to loudly eat them while gossiping about his day at a school he wasn't even enrolled at, never actually swallowing, just putting another chip in his mouth every two seconds until his words were just muffled gibberish. Without ever pausing in his anecdote, Hassae crammed the entire bag between his teeth and bit down, popping the bag with an infuriatingly loud snap and sending a salty hail of potato shrapnel in all directions, before swallowing it all at once. "-and then his pants exploded! So what are we doing here?" "I told you, this bank is being robbed." "Aren't you supposed to go hit the people in there or something, then?" "We can't rush in before we know the hostage situation...and...where did you get those?" The half-demon was holding a pair of badges, spinning them in one hand and watching them shine. "Are you kidding? They're everywhere, just look around." He held them over his eyes. "Look, I'm the Black Fly!" Glorywall rubbed his temple and sighed, wishing to himself that the day would end. Just a few more hours of this and his turn would be over. "Would you just return those? And whatever you do, don't..." He groaned and didn't bother opening his eyes as he heard the familiar crunching sound. "...don't eat them..."
"So, are we waiting for demands or something? I can help with that!" "No you can't." "Sure I can, I used to work with making people sell their souls for whatever they wanted, I made offers all the time!" "You quit that job!" Hassae stared at him blankly. "...what job? Hey look a megaphone!" "Don't you DARE!" But he was already gone, nimbly vaulting over cars and officers like an excited child. He could move amazingly fast when he wanted to, and by the time Glorywall got there he had already used his affiliation with the Sentinels to get a hold of the megaphone. "Hey robber guys!" The police who were scattered across the street all turned their heads. "Cmooooon, come out of there! What do you want? Money? Fame? Sexual favors? Hey, it's mine! Sto-gimme!" There was a brief scuffle and then silence as Glorywall wrenched the megaphone out of Hassae's hands. "What is *wrong* with you? Will you stop offering 'sexual favors' to everything that moves?!" "As opposed to what, things that don't move? You're such a pervert." He flicked his hair indignantly, taking no notice of the hero's grinding teeth. "I don't maintain this figure just to waste it, you know." "Maintain? You shapeshifted that body and it's almost physically impossible for you to gain weight. Just...please stop hitting on everyone." Hassae tilted his head slightly. "You're not jealous that I'm not hitting on you, are you?" "NO." Glorywall sighed and rubbed his forehead again. "I'm not interested in men. I've told you that EIGHT TIMES today alone." "...wow, you and your wife have nothing in common at all. You'd think she'd marry someone who could appreciate her bottomless love of-" "What?!" The half-demon blinked and stared into space for a moment. "I forget what I was talking about. In unrelated news your bed sheets are kind of burnt, we should pick up new ones when we're done here." He was shoved into a sitting position on the ground behind one of the police cars. "You sit here, you don't move, and you stay quiet. Got it?" "Kay." Glorywall turned angrily and tried not to yell at the nearest officer. "Has the situation changed while I've been busy." "Not really. Nothing but...um...some guy running up the steps right now." The hero whirled to find Hassae gone, and sighed again.
Energy Body: Ultimate
Hassae practically skipped up the steps in front of the bank, turning near the glass doors at the top to wave at the police who were shouting at him to get back down. "HEY! This is a bank, I'm gonna get some money for those sheets!" He squinted through the doors, and then called back down to the crowd. "I think this place is getting robbed, shouldn't you guys do something about that?" He was answered by a gunshot from behind, the bullet punching through the thin door and then his right shoulder. The police started to move, but Glorywall waved them back, saying it would be fine. "OW! My arm! You guys suck!" His arm was smoldering rather than bleeding, small tufts of hellfire threatening to spread and burn his clothes. Hassae took a step toward the door and was suddenly coated in flames, his body growing and changing into a winged nightmare of fire and acid. A flurry of shots followed the first but were brushed aside or melted as he smashed his way inside, towering over the masked thieves who fired from behind desks counters and overturned tables. "Insignificant human wretches!" His voice had changed entirely, a foul, thunderous noise that rolled out into the street in burning waves of ancient hate. "Begone from this place or be disemboweled by the ravages of Hell! Begone, or I shall totally key your cars!" There was an awkward silence as the robbers stared at their attacker. "And your SOULS!" Hassae tore into the walls like paper, sending the thieves scrambling to avoid falling wreckage, and out into the waiting arms of the police.
Natural Weaponry: Standard
"So every week someone new lets him live with them until a suitable permanent house is found?" "Pretty much. They just can't find any one person or place that can stand him for long." One of the officers walked up the steps with Glorywall, as the bank robbers were arrested behind them after fleeing into the open. "After today I-" "HEY!" Hassae burst through the one portion of the door that hadn't been broken yet, gnawing on one of the velvet ropes he'd found scattered around. "You wouldn't believe how much money is just laying around in there!" He waved a sack of bills. "Tacos for everyone!" The crowd simply stared, aside from one person who cheered and was promptly smacked in the back of the head. "Hassae, put it back! We came here to keep that money IN the bank!" "Wha? But...tacos!" Glorywall snatched the bag and handed it to the policeman he had been talking to, dragging Hassae away like an impatient parent. "Come on. We're stopping at the store on the way back, so be quiet." That quieted the half-breed's whining instantly, and he raced ahead to wait at the car. Glorywall's identity was not a secret, and since he couldn't fly or run fast or any of the other convenient modes of travel some heroes had, he simply drove to and from his destinations. It hadn't taken long to be decided that leaving Hassae Hero with someone who maintained a secret life was a bad idea. Changing out of his costume in the car, Glorywall drove to the store as promised, much to his dismay and Hassae's delight. Along with his rather unique state of mind, Hassae's metabolism had also been hit by his abnormal parentage. He could starve to death in about eighteen hours, supposedly, and as a result almost never stopped eating. It forced whoever was caring for him to buy food every day, often several times, and it was never a cheap experience. Once surrounded by aisles of food, it often took super powers just to keep him from eating things right off the shelf, biting through cans and clawing open boxes.
"Hey, I think the checkout lady is checking me out." "She's looking at you because you bit open a bottle of ketchup and drank it. And then ate the bottle." "Oh. Really? Do you think she's into-" "I don't care!" Glorywall struggled not to make a scene inside the supermarket, his eye twitching. "It doesn't matter what she's into, because you are NOT going to hit on her, understand?" "Fiiiine. We should get fudge. Do they sell that here?" "Look." The hero dug into one of the bags in his cart. "I got these when we passed the candy, those everlasting things. Got it? Make them LAST." Hassae took the bag and smelled it, then swallowed it whole, wrapper and all. "That was terrible. Is that what passes for fudge now?" The trip lasted as long as Glorywall could endure, until finally he dragged his burden to the counter and paid an exorbitant amount to compensate for what Hassae had eaten along the way. He made a decent living, but over this one week his savings had been, quite literally, eaten. Even during the ride back with a bag of groceries in his lap Hassae couldn't stay quiet, spraying food shrapnel with every word and gagging overdramatically every time something sharp poked his throat after eating the jars that things came in. Glorywall stayed silent, constantly reminding himself that it was only until the end of that day...
When Hypergem arrived that evening to take Hassae for his turn Glorywall looked like a coma victim, exhausted and disheveled on his couch. The house badly needed to be cleaned, and from the looks of things, repaired. The visitor started to speak, but was momentarily distracted by some of the oddities scattered around. "Why is there a bloody potato stuck to the ceiling with a fork?" "Sometimes it's best not to ask." Glorywall seemed entirely unwilling to move, save a brief point at a doorway. "He's in the basement, eating cat treats. Take him, please." "You don't have a cat..." "Best not to ask." Hypergem shrugged and only just began to move when Hassae thundered up the stairs, a section of plumbing with bite marks and drawings on it in one hand, his shoes dripping wet. "New guy!" He tossed the pipe over his shoulder and ran up to him. "It's boring here, can we go now?" "Uh, okay, Gl-" "Yes, go now, please." The two turned to leave, Hassae called back as he went. "The basement is a lot more wet than it was before I thought you might want to know since it smells funny okay bye!" He closed the door and walked circles around Hypergem. "Are you married?" "Um, no, I felt my life is too dangerous to bring a family into." "Uh huh. I...heeeey." Hassae paused to sniff at the air, triumphantly pointing to the right. "I smell crime in progress! No wait, that's pie..." He turned and pointed straight ahead. "That's the crime, over there!" Without waiting for a response the half-breed broke into a run. "I call shotgun!" "But we're not driving to...get away from the gun shop!"