What was it that demons did in their free time? There where but many options, after all. For the young Jack Frost however, his free time pertained differently from other demons. It enjoyed contending to a shop in high hopes that he'd one day be revered on the same level of the ' Old King '. It was a story the playful demon heard all too long ago. Yet, remembrance of where and why seemingly faltered; this left Jack in a confused state. Where? And why?
Jack dismissed his inability with a soft shrug; further more deciding it wasn't important. The being soon went back to its own device. The creature lived in the vast wilderness of crumbled ruins. How it had formed was not so important – and moreover a thing Jack hadn't known. But no other seemed to be occupying it, thus the demon decided it was its own. Demons are not civil, or at the very least dismiss the ideology of being civil. There is nothing in it for them, therefore it's not necessary. This is often what leads disputes, and with these arguments comes brute force as an answer. In other words, Demons are always in a position in which they could lose their place. Jack Frost didn't like the mentality – and though he hypocritically would engage in combat all the same, the cold demon mentally states he is opposed to violence.
Its blue hat's zigzagged ends gently fluttered up and down, flaps slapping it's round face while it's jester attire looked to be pulsating with the wind. No, it wasn't wind. It wasn't even force. The white creature turned and poked its head out from behind a crumbled wall, void black hues gliding across the open patchwork of what used to be a sidewalk.
" It's no-ho-one. " demonic high-pitched voice sounded softly, mouth forming into a frown. Maybe. . . Maybe it really was the wind, Jack considered whilst putting its giant index finger against where its chin would be. Removing the possibility of another intruding, the demon turned back around only to find his location was not the same. Eyes widened, right arm raised as the air quickly chilled to the point that the cold air particles where visibly being emitted, eyes staring at what probably was the perpetrator. "Hee-Hold the eff up ".
The male was garbed in a valiant blue trench coat, similar colored pants and brown boots. But what caught the demon's eyes the most was his arm – it was covered in a metallic object. Whatever way you look at it, it was clear to the demon that this teenager was the one who disturbed his "peaceful" lifestyle.
"Ahaha! I did it!" He gleefully exclaimed before letting out a grunt and hastily jumped and rolled to the left as ice shards pelted where he formerly stood. Jack and the male's eyes met, and the two simply stared at one another for what felt like hours. However the demon's patience quickly waned, oversized finger pointing at the male before it spoke.
"Are you-ho the hot shit that d-hee-sturbed my slumber! "
"Uh, I – " The male quickly and hesitantly started before stopping. " Yes, yes I did. What are you going to do about it, little man? "
It blinked. It blinked and allowed it's annoyance to be shown in the form of a creepy eye twitch. But then Jack smiled. This took the man off-guard – he was expecting a completely different response, so it seemed. The male came to the conclusion that Jack liked his response, despite the aforementioned display of annoyance. As such he reached out for a handshake from the demon. "You want to join me, then? " Taking up the handshake, Jack proceeded to chant "He Ho" over and over again while its hand froze the newly chosen samurai. Screaming in agony, the man tried to jump away, but it was already too late. The demon spun around, and cast a ice ' spell ', Bufu to finish off the foe.
After deciding that the endeavor was over, it turned and finally took a long glance at his surroundings, only to find that darkness overtook all, light seemingly non-existent. Buildings surrounded him and the death bound samurai. Jack had not seen anything like this and to top it all off the sky was completely blocked by a bedrock sky. All the demon could muster up was a cry that sounded akin to his normally demonically cute sounding "Hee Hoo. " The creature's thoughts hastily jumped to a number of conclusions, sweat or whatever was akin to sweat formed, hand gently pressed against one of his white fangs.
That is until it cleared its mind of all unnecessary thoughts and focused on what was before him. Yes . . . the dead man. Moving near the corps, Jack lifted up the dead-weight, only to then remove the trench coat, and from there he went running in the direction that contained a large tower in which seemingly touched the bedrock sky. Though it wasn't long before the demon's former momentum halted, metal bars blocking the path or what Jack thought was a path. "Not cool-Ho! "
Still, it had but one goal despite the change – to be revered as a great. Perhaps the sudden change of scenery would aid in this . . . as would the oversized trench coat. Though that would require some major tailoring, regardless the frost demon balled it up as best he could, and wore it like a backpack.