[b]"Stupid fucking kid...think you can do that shit and get away with it!?"[/b] the man without a face asked as he beat the small child, his large fist smashing against the child's face and shattering the cartilage in his nose easily. Too afraid to cry, the child sits there as the man pummels him, the wallet that he'd stolen falling from out of his pocket hitting the concrete of the alleyway. How could it have come to this, the kid wondered. He'd been poor all his life, been sick all his life, been hungry all his life, so why? Why did whatever God there was just ignore him when stuff like this happened? Ah well...not like it'd matter anyways. His nose was broken and bleeding, and he could feel that one of his ribs were cracked or broken from the pain in his chest, after the man had kicked his chest. He'd get to ask God all kinds of things, it seemed like. Like why he seemed to hate the poor.

[h1]...Wake up[/h1]
And then, the rats came. Dozens, no, hundreds spilling out of the gutters and various grates leading down into the sewer system. Unknowingly, the child activated a power he'd had all along, albeit a bit too late. The man was gone, and so too would his life leave. And so, the rats, knowing only that he was their master, huddled around him in a warm, and calming embrace. That was the first time he'd been hugged.


Jolting from his sleep, Creighton broke into a cold sweat and stared at his palm for a moment, before looking up. Looks like he'd overslept. Not like it mattered when you were a hermit. Pulling his tarp off of his body, he stretched for a moment before his back popped. Sleeping on the ground sucked, far more than anybody could imagine. Not like he wasn't used to not having a nice, soft pillow by now though. Rising to his feet, Creighton yawned and walked over to the nearby tree he'd found the day before. Climbing up it after stumbling a few times, the raggedy and sleepy demon looked out over the area and...saw light. Eyes going wide, he cursed under his breath and said: [b]"Mantle!"[/b] after which a thick, tan leather coat formed over his dark grey shirt, the collar of the coat having a solid mass of dark brown fur, that writhed slightly as he breathed in and out. Staring out over the area, he spotted the group's campfire and wondered: [i]"...Exorcists? Thought I gave them the slip back in the Phillipines...can't be Fallen Angels. Damn ex-bible-thumpers wouldn't be caught dead anywhere that didn't serve them 600 year old wine. Could just be campers, but..."[/i]. Blinking once, his eyes glowed with a strange, hollow pink light. [i]"...Definitely some kind of barrier around here. I can't think of any campers that can make something this big. I need to check this out...Ruthie, Winfield. We're heading out."[/i]

At the verbal command, the masses of rats on his coat divided into two packs, slowly converging their flesh and fur into one singular body each, one missing its right eye, and one missing its left eye. Squeaking slightly, the two obediently followed behind their master as his body passed through a bright green magic circle, his form shifting into a rat almost identical to the ones he'd had before. Scampering down the mountainside with his two guards, he eventually reached the barrier and passed through it, no doubt setting off the alarms set. [i]"Things get hairy, we bail. Can't risk getting caught now...not even by other demons. No place is safe for a stray."[/i]