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Los Angeles - Nello's Home
One would be forgiven for mistaking this most humble home for a library, or even a museum. Ancient trinkets, tomes, and scrolls lined the dark, wooden walls with the scent of parchment clearly lingering with stubborn intent. Each step brought a slight creak to bare, despite Nello's slight weight, his feet bringing him past the countless stacks of books and artifacts neatly rowed throughout the home. One could almost consider it a fairy tale lodge, something taken from the pages of a story, or a movie set in a mystical sanctum of knowledge. This was Nello's childhood, his life, the young teenager moving with purpose as the otherwise many hinders were a common addition to the architecture, for him. Like a wisp dancing through the darkness blanketing a thicket of trees, Nello's weightless movements echoed a motion of grace as he turned, twisted and lowered himself in response to the many obstacles appearing only inches from his frame. "Baba?" The boy's voice pierced a dim coating of light laying its shape across the Ishtar living room, "weynak?" Nello continued, asking for his father's whereabouts.Â
"Probably nose-first in a book, somewhere," Nocturne offered with a roll of his pristine, white eyes glowing brightly within the shadowy interior. They were as if diamonds reflecting the light of the sun they shunned with an undying hated.Â
"Mmh..," Nello responded, accompanied by a soft sigh. He proceeded through the house as his thoughts traveled. The boy's father spent most of his time in the man's study, but when the possessed creature noted his absence, Nello's attention shifted to the circle on the floor. It would be fair to chastise him for not noticing it, beforehand. However, the body clearly visible in front of it, caused the boy's heart to fall into a pit in his stomach. "D-dad..?" A shivering, trembling voice trickled out of Nello's thin, grey lips, his legs growing weak as the situation dawned on the teenager. Gulping, the boy attempted to move closer, noting that the circle was drawn in blood, several curious symbols situated in a position to form its shape. Surrounded by books on spellcraft, rituals and the occult, Nello was able to note that his father had been reading about the occult quite a lot, lately.Â
Up until this point, that is, where he laid, unmoving and cold like the darkest winter night. Though the man's hands were cut and displayed the obvious reason for where this most morbid art had sprung, it was not that which appeared to have snuffed the very life essence from his body. Indeed, the once healthy middle-aged father seemed to have been drained, sucked dry, as if his very age had been ripped from his being and left the man a shriveled corpse. An addition to the many ancient artifacts in the home, to say the least.Â
One could safely claim that for Nello, the world appeared to stand still, his gaze fixed on the husk before him. Nocturne's words flew past the boy, despite the shade's hands finding home upon his shoulders with the spirit's bright, diamond eyes meeting Nello's own. Shock, it was a term this teenager had never been able to understand as well as he did, at this very moment. It was only when he fell to his knees that the teen's trembling frame managed a whimper, before another, tears forcing themselves out of his dark eyes. "Nello!" Nocturne's attempts were finally breaking through, "A seriously powerful presence has been here. We need to fuck off, now!"
Falling on deaf ears, Nocturne's warning passed the boy by without managing a single motion from the teenager.  "Wh-what happened..?"
"That's a binding ritual!" Nocturne pointed at the blood drawn circle on the floor, "your dad summoned something from Tamura, and fucked up. He failed the spell, and it ended up killing him!"
"D-dad..," Nello tried, reaching out for the man before Nocturne clenched his fingers around the boy and pulled him back to his feet.Â
"Whatever he summoned is still here! I can feel the power, Nello, it's fucking insane. We need to leave, we need to leave right now!"Â
Paralyzed, gripped by fear, shock, and absolute chaos, Nello was unable to move. His wide, grief-struck eyes met Nocturne's, unsure of what to do, or how to act. Though instructions had been laid out for the boy, he was forgiven for displaying symptoms of overwhelming turmoil. A slap to his face was, however, enough to snap the teenager out of his paralysis. "I..," came a weak utterance, before Nocturne phased past the boy, tugging him along.
"We can cry somewhere else!" The spirit finished, finally able to drag the boy with him, and out of the house. With wet cheeks, Nello ran. He did not know where, and he had no destination to speak of. He simply ran, unable to see five feet in front of him due to the mist coating his eyes. What would the police say? What would the investigation yield? It was clear, and documented, that Nello Ishtar was an ultra, an inhuman creature to stain this planet's surface with his presence. With no other culprit, who else could they blame? The nature of his father's death was anything but natural, and as Nello continued to run, his legs growing tired beneath the beating sun, he finally dropped and plummeted into a vacant dead-end alley on the streets of Los Angeles. The smart option would be to get the police, but they were not suited to deal with this, and those who were, would clearly blame the ultra who had been living with the victim. Crawling towards the wall, Nello balled up, hugging his knees as he began to cry. Though a pair of spectral arms embraced him, allowing this situation to find a stable rest within him would demand time. He could not return home, and he most certainly couldn't let himself be taken to an orphanage. What remained? Albert? Considering the murder of Nafir Ishtar, Nello would be a highly attractive attraction for both the media, and the authorities. Albert was likely the best option, despite a reluctance to put the man in such a position.
