At some point in the evening, she found herself leaning back against the wall, facing the door to her apartment. She didn't know what bottle she was on, could have been the third, the fourth, her whole world spun in the worst of ways, making her feel queasy, but all she did was take another drink whenever she felt like something might come up. Alcohol poisoning? Pff, she was a demon, they couldn't die of an overdose. She could sit here and drink all fucking night if she wanted, and she damn well might just do it.
She slammed her head into the wall behind her with a growl. She didn't know why she'd been so stupid, thinking she should answer the phone, maybe finally tell them what happened; like they'd understand. Loona looked down at the bottle in her hand and swished it from side to side, watching the amber liquid within as it swayed to and fro, glistening in the light. The bottle raised to her lips so she could take another sip and the hound washed her mouth with yet more drink, barely tasting it before swallowing it down. She was starting to feel numb - the perfect state for this evening, she thought.
But of course, trouble came in threes, and her third bit of trouble hadn't yet arrived this evening. It wouldn't keep her waiting for long. There was a loud 'bang' on her door as a man-mountain-sized fist slammed into the wood. "Open up!" She could hear multiple voices on the other side... Of course they'd be here. They probably thought she'd called for help or she was hosting some kind of scheming meeting in her apartment. The whole place still smelled like sulfur.
Loona didn't bother answering the door, just raising the bottle to her lips to take another long swig. If they wanted to come in, they'd have to break the door down. They'd paid for the damn place anyway, it wasn't like she cared. They could lose their own security deposit if they were that worried about it.
There was more discussion from behind the door and then another loud bang followed by another call, another voice. She felt like that one was familiar. "We know you've had visitors, Loonie-" that was funny, they were using the name she'd told them, and she couldn't help the bark of a laugh that pried out of her, "And we need to talk to you."
She took another long pull from her drink and then lifted the bottle. "Fuck off", she called in response, and the bottle shattered against the back of the door as she flung it, splattering liquor and glass every which way. The hound pulled her knees up against herself and rested her arms across them, then lay her forehead across her forearms. Everything spun, she felt numb, and to be honest at the moment she didn't really care what they did to her.
Loona heard a muffled order given behind the door before the whole thing caved in with a heavy 'whump', and she heard the wood crack. She didn't bother looking up, she knew what was coming next. There was a second 'whump' before the whole damn door swung in on a crooked angle - one of the hinges busted loose and that'd given it enough travel for the shank to pull out and the door to swing in, barely hanging on by one abused hinge. The predicted man-mountain stepped inside, glass crunching under boots, followed by several more pairs of feet. "It smells like a bar in here", she heard someone mutter.
"Nobody asked you," she muttered under her breath, followed by a loud belch that drew a groan from the hound - it didn't taste very good going down, and it definitely didn't taste good coming back up either.
She didn't bother lifting her head up as a pair of shoes she thought she recognized came to a stop in front of her and crouched down with an 'I'm-too-old-for-this' creak and protest. Someone's hand rested in her hair and lifted her head up, and she just burped again into the face of the same old guy she'd remembered from before - if he was showing up here, she knew that this probably wasn't very good, but the truth was she didn't care. He let out a 'eugh' and swiped his hand in front of his face before he looked down at her. "You're drunk?" It wasn't really a question, or at the very least it was rhetorical.
"Dunno what'd give you that idea," she returned in reply, then looked off to the side to reach for another bottle - she wasn't even sure if there was anything in it. One of the kitted-up guards who'd accompanied the one she recognized stepped in the way and pushed the bottles out of reach, prompting the hound to peer up at him. "Hey, those are mine."
The man she recognized reached forward and grasped either side of her head, turning her gaze toward him, despite the protest of someone behind him. 'Reed, I don't think that's a good idea', she heard, but he just turned his head back and ordered a 'shut up' before she pulled her head away from him.
"Get your hands off me," she mumbled, then reached up to nudge his hands away from herself, slapping them idly away as she turned her head away from him again. Some part of her didn't want him to see her like this, but she didn't even really understand why.
He persisted, taking her head into his hands again. "What happened? We got a spike from your room, the whole damn place smells like sulfur-", she tried to pull her head away again, but his grip was firmer this time, and he didn't let her go, "And we arrive to find you like this?"
She struggled against his grip for a moment before she just gave up entirely, slumping against the wall. Her red eyes peered up at him blearily, trying to bring him into focus. "They tried to rescue me. Can you believe it?" she slurred, then pointed over toward her singed bed - someone was already there taking samples and readings from the scorched fabric.
This 'Reed' figure actually let go of her face at the news, rocking back into his heels as he took this in. "And you didn't let them? You stayed?"
The hound turned her gaze to him again, slumped against the wall in a mess. "Oh, thought I'd run away home? Told you. Nothing... left." She gurgled unpleasantly and closed her eyes. She could really use another drink.
From the doorway came a second figure. "I told you she was nothing but trouble, Reed. I'm calling it now, we collect what we need and we send it back where it belongs." She recognized that voice - one of the ones she'd heard arguing against her at her hearing or whatever the fuck it'd been.
"Where 'it' belongs is currently full of fuckheads," the hound muttered as she rolled over onto her side and then heaved - with nothing to wash the rising bile down she didn't have a choice, and her maw opened to spill what had to be at least a pint of liquor across the floor, drawing groans and even a retch from one of the myriad people in her room.
Both Reed and this new figure pulled a piece of his shirt up across his nose and a kerchief over hers, respectively, as they watched this... display. "Clearly whatever experiment this was supposed to be has failed", the woman said through the muffle of the cloth covering her nose. "This whole apartment reeks, and not even from whatever it's attempted to drown itself with. We have evidence of honest-to-goodness demonic activity."
"Did you hear what she said?" He gestured back toward the retching hound who was currently dry-heaving on the floor. "They tried to take her home. She stayed. If anything that just proves that whatever's happening here is working." Reed swung his hand emphatically toward the canine who was currently not making her best impression upon the gathered figures in her room.
She could hear someone in the hallway ushering off or shooing away people who'd come to watch - probably from all the noise they were making and the gathered figures that were likely making quite a scene. For her part, the hound just wanted a shower - and another drink - but she was pretty sure she wasn't going to get either thing that she wanted at the moment. Loona tried to slowly push herself to her feet, but it was a lot harder than she anticipated and she actually almost fell onto one of the guards who startled and shoved her away, leaving her to smack into the wall with a growl - in a matter of moments there were multiple weapons leveled at her.
Loona just flipped them off and stumbled to her bed, then pushed away one of the technicians before she flopped herself down and put her head in her hands. "I just want you all out of my apartment. I'm not going anywhere. Fuck off back to wherever you come from already."
Though Reed held a hand out to stop her, the woman stepped forward, her hands on her hips as her indignation overrode her disgust at the smell. "Excuse you? Your apartment? If I am correct, and Reed will correct me if I am wrong, this is our apartment. And if what my nose and eyes tell me is true, then not only have you broken our 'trust' in you such as it is by consorting with other demons, but you have trashed it as well. Broken glass and it stinks like Hell itself. This was a waste of our time and money, all because you," she jabbed Reed in the chest with a finger, "Had a soft spot for the 'oh no my dad' sob story. It's a demon. Whatever you think actually happened, it lied."
The hound's drunken brain took a moment to actually process what it was she was hearing, but a soft growl rose up through her chest. Reed shouted a command that she didn't hear as Loona's hand rose up and she snapped her fingers. This woman wanted to think she was a demon? Well, Loona would let her. The snap caused several things to happen in rapid succession. The first thing was that the woman's hair burst into flames - Loona'd been able to smell her hairspray from here, and it lit up nicely. The second was the shocked expression on Reed's face - it was worth it almost for that alone. Seeing the normally expressionless(at least as much as she'd known him) face light up in shock and surprise at what was happening brought her no small measure of glee.
The third thing that happened was not quite so nice. One of the man-mountains tackled her onto the bed - quite frankly she was surprised she hadn't been riddled with bullets - and almost immediately began smothering her in punches and blows with some kind of stick. Not only had she not been expecting it, but even if she was, Loona had never been a proper fight in her life. Sure, there had been scrapes back in Hell, but Blitzo or Moxxie or Millie had always been there to drag her out of the messes of her own making. Here, with her liquor-slowed brain as her only defense, what small amount of fight she managed to put up was almost immediately buried under yet more impacts, and it was almost merciful when the lights finally went out and there was no longer anyone at home.
She honestly expected to never wake up again. Half-remembered dreams were chased from her head as the hound pushed down against the floor underneath her, and she realized she had no idea where she was. There were boxes back here with her that shuffled every time whatever she was inside of moved or shifted, and she could see her bass poking up out of one of them - one of the strings had snapped, the motherfuckers. As she turned, her head seemed to whip around at less than half the speed of the rest of her and she almost vomited on the spot. However, she managed to control herself and climb to the front of whatever this was - it was either a small truck or a very large van - where she could see the back of two heads bobbing along as the van moved. "Where the fuck-"
She was cut off as a gauntleted fist slammed into the grating, crashing down onto one of her fingers that'd stuck through the mesh. "Silence! You're being moved."
"Motherfucker!", she screamed as she scrambled back and fell onto her rear and back, almost immediately shoving her finger into her mouth to suck on it. It'd split open under the blow and she was pretty sure he'd cracked one of her claws. There weren't any other windows back here to give her any kind of indication of where she was going, and she was pretty sure that she wasn't going to get an answer out of the fuckers driving her onward. At least not until they were good and ready to give her one.
Loonie put her hand to her head and tried to think, tried to remember what the fuck had happened, but all her hungover brain could drag up was that she'd... set someone's hair on fire. "So fucking stupid", she muttered to nobody but herself as she curled up against one of the boxes in the back of the van. She knew this was only the latest time she'd let herself get far more fucked up than she ever should have been, and the second time she'd done something monumentally stupid as a result. She wasn't sure she wanted to find out what the third would be. Maybe - if they didn't drag her out to a forest and shoot her to send her back - maybe it was finally time to try to do something different.
This was far too much thinking for her poor, aching brain, however, and she closed her eyes to wait and see where she'd arrive at next. After what she'd done, she was pretty sure that wherever she ended up, it wasn't going to be anywhere near as pleasant...