Alone Chapter 2: Let's not start that again.
One pleasant night Demona decided to take a flight and hoped it would continue to be a quiet night. As she flew over Central Park, she decided to set down and enjoy a little reflecting pool. Her thoughts drifted as she contemplated her image and past. (She was in an oddly good mood and decided to take advantage of it)
"Well, hello again, Demon." Someone said in a Scottish accent who was sitting on a park bench behind her.
"You were always good at lurking in shadows," Demona sneered.
"So, what brings ye here, M'Lady?" He was wearing his usual trademark, high collared leather trench-coat while Demona was wearing her trademark rags.
"What do you want?" she said with a growl.
"Nothing, I was enjoying the night until you dropped in."
"Forgive me for making assumptions" she snapped politely, "but your typical goal is usually to kill me."
MacBeth stood up. "And you are usually out to get vengeance when it was originally your fault!"
"Why you–!Rroww!" There went Demona's mood. She lurched forward at MacBeth, forcing him to the ground making her best effort to cause him pain, "What are you trying to say?"
"You destroyed yer clan by leaving me for Canmore. You couldna trust him and he did slay yer clan, you know that! I believe we've had this discussion before." They wrestled around some more as they argued.
"You didn't care about my clan! All you wanted was the approval of the English!"
"Where did you get that idea? You are making assumption again! You were listening outside that window that night, were you not? I have had long time to think about all of this but I never had the chance to really ask you about it." Demona dug her claws into MacBeth's arms. He punched her in the face to relieve her grip.
"Yes, you were discussing that the only way to save your clan was by destroying mine. And you would have destroyed my clan at the slightest whim." She slashed his face with her claws, causing him to bleed, and winced herself in pain, red marks in the same place on her own face appeared in her blue skin.
"Nay, never would I have done so. Ye remember that Luach argued to keep ye alive! Come, now yer memory is as good at mine!. Or do you still reinvent the past with all humans as evil and gargoyles so perfect!" MacBeth threw a punch at Demona which automatically made his own face hurt. "What made you think I would listen to my father-in-law over my son?"
"All you cared about were the humans all along." She threw him at a park bench, breaking the bench.
"Nay," he grunted, "I wanted to find a way to save both, 'tis why I said I had to consider all of my options. Don't you remember?" He came back and fought to restrain her while he yelled at her, "Come on, think Demona! It was Canmore who betrayed ye. If ye had not betrayed me to him, yer clan would have lived! Use some sense for once!"
Demona couldn't think of any other answer to that than picking him up and throwing him at a tree. Then there was that annoying pause while both bent over in agony.
"Look, Demona," MacBeth panted, "I understand you were concerned for the safety of your clan and you had been betrayed by your allied humans before, but that doesn't mean that's always the case. But that doesn't explain why you left me for a less trustworthy human. I have tried to see you're point of view, it doesn't make sense, why can't you try to see it my way!" Demona answered with a kick in the stomach, knocking the wind out of both of them. He tried reinforcing what he said before, "It was not I who betrayed ye, it was those hunters! Remember, their whole purpose was just like yours, getting pathetic revenge."
"And your fighting and hunting me all of these centuries is not getting 'pathetic revenge'?"
"I think 'trying to commit suicide' is a little closer." They wrestled until she was on top of him; he kicked her off and she fell against the pavement.
"Wow, that's sad! You sorry old man, you spent all of these decades, simply trying to commit suicide?" She antagonized as she waited a bit before she charged him again, thrusting him at a tree, a small, low, broken branch gave him a nice puncture wound.
"Well, old crone, I guess I -too- have made many foolish choices in my days." He pushed her into the pavement.
She exhaled quickly, "What are mine? Betraying you? That was hardly the most foolish thing I've done!" She leaped on him and they wrestled more.
"I'm not disagreeing about your leaving, but other foolish choices: betraying yer castle and clan to the Vikings which caused your beloved Goliath turned into stone for a thousand years..." That enraged Demona to no extent. She growled and dug her claws deep into MacBeth's side and then kick him into the pool. His various wounds started turning the water red. Wet MacBeth continued "...you became scavengers and prey just because of your hatred toward humans and refusal to ally with any. Ye destroyed yer new clan too." Demona stood on top of MacBeth, making it difficult to hold his head above water, even in a shallow pool. "And then there was that time Thailog beguiled ye into making ye think he loved you!" Furious for that mockery, she pushed his head under the water with her tail. When she herself started to become light headed, she let him out of the water; she did not share his suicidal dream.
"And besides," he coughed with his voice starting to have a tone of humor in it, "yer still in love with that, what did you call him, human-loving-weak leader Goliath!"
She pulled him out of the pool thrust him toward the sidewalk. "You were the one that married that shrew." Now it was MacBeth's turn to be offended, no one insulted his beloved Gruoch. He kicked out her legs, causing her to drop to the pavement; next he kicked her head with his heavy boots; they shared a nasty headache.
"Demona, believe me when I say that it was never my intension to hurt you.. Well...then. We were friends, for thirty-seven years! I would never betray ye, I would have always been loyal!" She grabbed his leg and caused him to fall to the pavement, where they both lay briefly, in agony, as they caught their breath.
"So, what you are saying is that you never intended to betray us?" She said bitterly between grunts of pain.
"Of course 'tis what I have been saying, 'tis what I've always been saying!" he panted.
They both lay half dead on the sidewalk in silence for a moment. As they caught their breath, they tried to think of good comebacks.
As MacBeth lay on his back, in too much pain to move, he gave an unwelcome exhausted laugh, "I remember, back a few years ago when I first found you again, the Wyrd Sisters tried to convince me to stop the fight, telling me that death never got anyone close to me in my life anywhere. I guess I never learned. I never stopped trying to kill ye, and I haven't gotten anywhere."
There was a unexpected sigh from Demona. "They told me it was all a cycle of vengeance... and I needed to stop it... I denied it." Demona said dazed.
MacBeth cocked an eyebrow slightly. He then took a deep breath as he slowly and painfully tried to turn over "Your prejudice against humans has made it hard as well. 'Tis just like the human prejudice against gargoyles, they don't believe that you're not monsters and worth at least the same respect as any human." He grunted as he tried to push himself off the ground. "I agree that you deserve a lot of respect. Ever since you saved me as a lad I had more respect for you than many humans."
Demona's eyebrow cocked in confusion. She wasn't entirely sure how to take that, or how she wanted to take it. MacBeth finally pushed himself up onto his knees. Demona sat up quickly, and posed herself in a defensive position, preparing for another attack from him, though she could sense he was as tired as she was. He didn't make any move, he was too tired. Demona broke the silence, "I thought you were on a centuries long quest to kill me, not make small talk with me." She watched him closely.
"Eh," he sighed. "my priorities changed." She gave him a dead glare which he didn't give the pleasure of a response. She relaxed, convinced he was in no mood to go on this evening.
The truth was his priorities had changed. He didn't have a lot to do because his employees were complaining about hours and being given insane tasks, so he often tried to avoid a confrontation with them. He often found himself alone with nothing to do but to think.
There was an uncomfortable silence between the two. MacBeth grunted awkwardly and painfully as he pushed himself off the ground and onto his feet. Demona just watched him like a hawk but with an eyebrow confusedly raised. As he rose, he slapped his hand onto Demona's shoulder, "Well..." he composed himself with a grunt, after a second he said, "Same time next week?" He looked at Demona as if he expected an answer. After a second, he started to walk away from her. Demona watched him walk away with a look of mixed confusion and disgust on her face. As he disappeared from sight, Demona sat there for a while longer, not sure what to do next.
A sunny day, a great day to get some time outdoors. It was one of the first days of June and school was out. In a crowed park, he was shocked to pick out a familiar face. Of course he knew that face well, he had searched for her for centuries, even though the human face had fooled him before.
He decided to take on a new adventure. He wanted to play the how-long-can-I-talk-to-Demona-before-we-try-to-kill-each-other game. He said sarcastically, "Can I buy ye a drink, Lass?" She jumped. She hadn't expected to hear that, and certainly not from him.
As her heart calmed, her face grew to a mixture of confusion and anger. "Alright..." Her thoughts flashed so fast that they didn't even make sense to her. They flashed all the possible reasons MacBeth would make such an offer and none made sense. If she believed anything MacBeth said the last time they met, it was that his priorities had indeed changed, so She gave in, with an unusual curiosity.
MacBeth invited her to walk with him as they drank their drinks. MacBeth continued his game. "So, how do you spend you days now?" MacBeth perked up some of that small talk that you really don't want to make but your force yourself to anyway.
Demona gave out a kind of disgusted cough/laugh. She looked at MacBeth with her disgusted look but got a calm look in return. So she cleared her throat, changed her expression and said lovingly sinister, "Why are we so friendly?"
"I had to learn a few manners as a King, you know." It was odd, MacBeth thought, especially to be talking to her like this after he had foolishly fallen in love with the charade Demona had pretended to be back in Paris.
"How do I spend my days?" She repeated, "Oh, same old, same old, some anti-gargoyle humans found out where I live...those pesky..." She clenched her fist and her eyes turned red. She relaxed and smiled sarcastically broad, "and you?"
"I'm a teacher now."
"Really? In what?"
"European History."
"Wow, imagine that," she dripped with disdain. He laughed quietly.
"But school just let out about a week ago, so 'tis been rather slow." He shrugged casually.
They walked a short bit without saying anything.
Before MacBeth completely forgot what was going on, Demona said suddenly and surprisingly unsarcastic, "I've been thinking about that... 'discussion' we had gotten into... earlier...I've been trying to think about...it all...using common sense."
MacBeth said nothing, though some smart comments came to mind. He was so shocked to hear this from her that his confused lips wouldn't have let him say anything anyway. The situation became... uncomfortable.
"Well, it's getting toward evening," She cocked her head sarcastically and continued in a in-case-you-didn't-know tone. "I should be getting back, nice talking to you." Demona said as friendly as ever. As MacBeth watched her leave, he thought about how weird that had been and decided to go do something boringly normal.
Demona didn't have any employees anymore except a secretary. The last time she had workers for her firm, NightStone Unlimited, she found out she had Hunters among them and therefore cursed herself for having trusted humans again. She hoped the secretary was as naive as she seemed, but still, they had gotten in a fight that day. After that, she knew it would be a long night. Tired of the quiet of her mansion, Demona hoped that maybe she could get a chance to talk to Angela. Demona and Angela had talked a few times over the years but the meetings were usually not very smooth and the last time she visited before the battle of Eris, Demona and Goliath had gotten into a fight and she tried to kill him again. It was possible Angela probably wouldn't be happy to see her. Demona hoped that since it had been a while, they might give her a chance.
Demona landed in the Erie Tower castle court yard and was immediately greeted by her welcoming committee, lead by Brooklyn, who would never stop holding a grudge on her.
"Hey, you ain't welcome here!" Patch, the new maroon gargoyle shouted.
"Let me see my daughter, gargoyle-wannabe. I come with no agenda and unarmed, though probably quite foolish."
"You're darn right it was foolish," Brooklyn threaten.
"Should I go find a white flag and wave it around for you?" Demona mocked, "I just want to talk to Angela. You guys can keep a close eye on me, I won't try to kill Goliath this time." Demona pleaded.
"What do you want to do to her?" Brooklyn argued.
"Talk to her," she enunciated, "she's my daughter, is that reasonable?"
"Just talk?" Lexington didn't trust her. "Like last time!"
"Come on guys," Liberty, the new little optimist in the group, didn't know Demona very well, even a thousand years before. "It's been a while, give her a chance?"
Brooklyn growled, "Besides, she's not here."
Demona was disappointed, "Where is she?"
"She's out with her husband." Lexington told her. Demona was shocked to hear that. She knew that Angela and Broadway have had a relationship for a few years, but she didn't know more had arisen out of it. She was hurt, that she was never informed.
"Well, tell her I came to see her," Demona said angry.
"She recovered from her wounds and all " Liberty offered in a peaceful gesture "but she still get lightheaded a little after sunset." Liberty told her.
"Well, then!" Demona's eyes turned red with anger, she liked having the gargoyles think she hated all of them except Angela. Demona lurched off without saying anything more. After she was away, she began to cry. Why hadn't she been told about her daughter and Broadway? And "husband," such a human word. Her own daughter, getting too humanized, raised by humans... Did anyone bother to tell her anything anymore? If Avalon sunk, would anyone let her know? If a booming population of gargoyles was discovered in central Africa, would they let her meet them? If Goliath was killed, once her lover, would anyone tell her? She grew very angry toward the clan, more so than normal.
Demona felt offended, a bad night getting worse. If she returned to her mansion, the boredom from no one to talk to would probably cause her to think too much, in the end her anger would cause the destruction a few too many valuable objects in her house.
She kept flying, until she saw MacBeth's castle. She couldn't believe she was even considering but she decided to stop in. After the conversation they had about a week before, he probably would only think it -more- weird for her to stop in than his spontaneously talking to her at the park. She felt like...she needed someone to talk to...someone who'd actually understand...
Worried that he maybe feeling suicidal, Demona decided to stop and get some pizza as a peace gesture. By dropping in, Demona scared the poor pizza out of his wits; this helped her feel better.
Demona swooped into MacBeth's property, avoiding his predictable defense grid. She came to his front door and with a single kick, pent up with frustrations, broke it down with a satisfying blow. MacBeth's security alarm sounded, but before MacBeth could get up from what he was doing and attack the trespasser, Demona had already made her way to the kitchen and grabbed a couple sodas from his fridge.
MacBeth barged in the door and, gun ready, froze. "Demona!"
"Mind if I take your last Vanilla Coke?" She walked past the stunned Scot and into his dining hall. "I hope you don't mind pepperoni." She flopped the Pizza boxes onto the table. She sat down, making herself comfortable and throwing her legs on top of the shiny clean table.
"What? No attempts or devious planning to take over the world?" MacBeth said with mock disappointment. Hesitantly, he settled himself down on the other side of the table, gun still out. There couldn't be anything in the pizza that could harm him without harming her, so he assumed it was safe. He wondered what kind of sleeping potions she might be able to use against him as he took a bite of the pizza. "What do I owe the honor of this unexpected visit?" He asked cynically, casually opening up his Dr. Pepper Demona had picked out for him.
"Oh, no reason" Demona gave a fake shrug. "felt like trying to cause you trouble." Demona didn't look like her mind was in her words. MacBeth just watched and ate, anxious for what spontaneous thing could happen next. Then it happened. Demona said suddenly, quickly and with teeth clenched, "Insufferable clan! I went to go see Angela and they..." she made a jerky movement with her fist, "rejected me." She paused, her head sunk, "and so did Angela." She thought for a bit and said, "and besides, my secretary is also threatening to quit and I felt like I needed someone to yell at."
MacBeth nodded in agreement with a sarcastic this-is-logical expression on his face, "I know what you mean, I feel the same way without my thugs who quit a little while ago."
A silenced passed between them when suddenly Demona stood up and threw her pizza at the wall. " Does anyone care for gargoyle values and traditions anymore!" She shouted. "'husband'" the word haunted her. "I bet they had a full human wedding too." She clawed MacBeth's walls and began to pace around the room angrily, making sudden jerky movements and often breaking things. MacBeth just watched in amazement, not sure what to do, and fairly entertained as he sipped his drink. "How could Goliath let her do that? Has he given up on our past so easily? Or is he just trying to forget our bond so quickly by insisting that our daughter be married in the human way!" She picked up a very nice looking vase and got ready to throw it. MacBeth stopped her arm before she could throw, took the antique out of her hand and replaced it with the ceramic plate his pizza had been on. When he left go of her arm, she threw it against the wall with a delightful shatter.
MacBeth analyzed, "And what is the gargoyle method of marriage?"
"It's more a private thing, an agreement made between the couple." She answered his question quickly, not putting much thought into it nor letting it disturb her pacing.
"Then how do you know that you daughter didn't just do that, but they use a more human word to refer to her mate?" He suggested.
Demona threw him a glare, letting him know that she didn't ask his opinion and threw herself down in a chair, digging her claws into its arm and didn't say anything for a while. MacBeth just ate some more of the pizza which Demona had not taken a bite of.
Demona's mind wandered rapidly in thought. Suddenly and randomly she asked, "What do you think the Wyrd Sisters want with us?" MacBeth's eye's widened suddenly at the randomness of Demona bringing up the fays who had originally cast the spell, binding Demona and MacBeth together, centuries earlier.
"Maybe they just use us for their own entertainment," MacBeth suggested sinisterly, the thought did strike him as entertaining...
Demona scoffed, "Maybe they will let us have a life for a while," Demona said too optimistically to really even hope for that, "maybe they'll take the spell off and kill us now."
"Well, Goliath said they used us in getting the Gramorum and as pawns for the Archmage. Aire there more things they need us for? Or did they just leave us to live this endless..." He dared not use the word 'lonely', "...monotonous existence?" After another long pause, Demona got up suddenly and left. "Feel free to stop by any time!" MacBeth called after her. He stood and blinked for a second and then started cleaning up.
It had been a little while since he saw her, but when he saw her the next time, it was too hilarious a situation to pass up. She was out in public at the harbor. It was an overcast day, threatening to rain, so the beach was not crowded. She was wearing her ordinary rags, which fit in here on the shore, but what cracked MacBeth up was that she was suntanning, or at least she would be if there was sun. She was relaxing on a cot, reading, with sunglasses and a sun hat... not something MacBeth pictured her wearing any time soon. Since he was bored, had no one to talk to, not to mention nothing better to do, he decided to delight in the event he found so humorous, but then, we can't say much about his sense of humor, can we?
"Hello," he said, to her, trying to keep a straight face. She didn't notice his tone because by the time she realized who was talking to her, she gave out a sudden laugh of her own. She hadn't seen him in clothes other than his usual high-collared black trench-coat since they were in Paris together. She had never seen him in a friendly green, Hawaiian shirt before, nor would she have ever pictured him in such.
He gave an embarrassed chuckle when he realized what she was laughing at. MacBeth was surprised to see how nice she looked when she was in a good mood. It reminded him suddenly of a woman he once loved which made him suddenly very uncomfortable. He tried to hide it and asked, "What are you reading?"
Demona smiled in an sarcastically perky way, "MacBeth." MacBeth gave a look of disgust as he tore the play out of her hands and started looking at it. She started mocking him, "My, you certainly do have this thing with death, 'a never ending cycle'." It started to rain very lightly, not enough to make anyone move. "And you were certainly brutal on Duncan."
"One moment," He defended from her harassment, "ye were there when I killed Duncan, it was aither me or him, he tried to slay me and my father before that...and I stopped him from crushing you while you were stone, you realize!" He defended.
"I know," she grumbled as if she were trying to explain the joke. She tore the book back.
"...I never did like him."
"Duncan?"
"No, Shakespeare. You see, I met him during a time when I was researching Gargoyles centuries after most of the records of them had been destroyed. I asked him to include your kind in his stories along with Oberon's children. He had a rough draft but he ruined it. He made gargoyles sound like drooling, bloodthirsty animals, ignorant and with no character, which I knew was false."
"I would have thought you thought that I was a snarling, stupid animal?"
"I have not forgotten when we were friends. I knew all gargoyles could think and deserved more respect than that. In any case, we got in a fight and so he decided, instead, to ruin my reputation."
"Uh-huh?" She said with doubt. It started to do more than drizzle, but both were too proud to search for cover.
"Studied gargoyles huh?" Demona said with a sincere interest that caught MacBeth off guard.
"I did not find much. I guess the part I found the most interesting was how little information was left. 'Twas as if the human race was trying to forget they existed."
"It worked, until now."
"Yeah, now that Goliath's clan is out and are heros, some Gargoyles around the world have been revealing themselves."
"It would be interesting to hear their story." Demona said distantly. "What did you learn about gargoyles?"
"I guess it always fascinated me how many different varieties there are. I mean, us humans, we vary between different shades of pale orange and browns. But I love how colorful some gargoyles are, with different wings and horns."
"But we all have black eyes," she said. MacBeth looked at her eyes for a second, they were delightfully green, a bit unrealistic perhaps, but her being human was the work of Puck's magic in the first place anyway. He looked away suddenly as a wave of embarrassment came over him.
There was silence for the next while. They mainly just let the rain fall on them as they both kept their eyes on the harbor. The sound and smell was relaxing. As sunset fell, Demona stood up to prepare to go into her metamorphosis.
"Eh," MacBeth hesitated and stepped away from her. He remembered last time he was near her when she went into metamorphosis was in Paris, and the pain she had to endure was terrible, he did not particularly want to share it with her. At that distance, the pain MacBeth bore was easily bearable. For some reason MacBeth felt guilty for Demona's pain, it was the first time in nine centuries, maybe because this time he hadn't inflicted the pain.
MacBeth stuffed his hands into his pockets and gave out a bored sigh. Demona just gave him a glare. "Hungry?" He asked suddenly. She blinked in confusion. "Come on," he continued, "I make a mean lasagna, and if that doesn't kill you, I'll poison dessert."
Demona laughed. "In that case, let me give you a lift. I'll pick the least convenient place to throw you off."
He grasped his hands tightly around her neck as she took off. The two did not say much except the occasional discussion of items they saw on the flight back to MacBeth's castle. For some reason the flight wasn't exactly difficult to get through, not like sitting through a class period where you are assigned to work with someone you really hated. More like if you were working with that someone you hated after not seeing -anyone- in over a week.
As they flew near an apartment balcony, a drunk man sat lazily. When he saw the winged figure, the hillbilly grabbed his gun and shot at Demona.
Demona screeched like a cat as the bullet pierced her wing. MacBeth groaned with a phantom pain that struck him. He always thought it was weird that he would feel pain when Demona was hurt in a appendage humans didn't even have. Demona took shelter on the apartment roof. MacBeth went to the edge and was ready to jump down the fire-escapes to the man's apartment.
"Where are you going?" the injured Demona asked.
"I am going to turn him into the authorities."
"I can take care of this myself!"
"Come now, 'twould be my pleasure." MacBeth insisted forcefully. And with that MacBeth left Demona on the roof before she could say anything more.
MacBeth dropped on the landing where the drunk still searched the sky for gargoyles through the scope on his rifle.
"Ye are under arrest for attacking gargoyles who are protected under the government," MacBeth lied.
"Hey!" was about all the man could say as he pointed at MacBeth, who was still just in his damp green Hawaiian shirt.
MacBeth pulled out his wallet, flashed it without giving the man a chance to see he had no police badge, "this way," he started wrestling the man out the door. The man might have been bigger than MacBeth, but he wasn't stronger. For a man who was physically in his 60's, MacBeth knew how to stay in shape over the centuries, after all, he had to be as strong as a female gargoyle. He walked him to the police station where he told them that the man had tried to kill a gargoyle. Since the police in Manhattan were probably the biggest human fans of the gargoyles, he had no trouble getting them to take him. MacBeth left before they had a chance to question him. He was glad he didn't see Elisa there, he didn't want to have to explain the situation to her.
As he left the station, the rain had slowed to a drizzle by then, he began to walk home when he slipped on the still damp road as he crossed the street. A speeding car couldn't stop in time. But, just in time though, Demona flew down and picked him out of the street. Again he was on Demona's back, flying to his house.
"You saved me?" he was confused, that hadn't happened for over 900 years. Demona just shrugged. "'Tis not like he could have killed me." MacBeth rubbed his sore knee.
"Well," Demona said in an unsure tone, "I told you I'd give you a lift, didn't I?"
"Well, that's two favors now, giving me a lift and saving me the trouble of the pain of being hit by a car, then going to a hospital and having them be surprised that I survived and then trying to explain it...thank you...What's the catch?"
"Has that happened to you a lot over centuries?" she asked, ignoring his last comment; a conversation for the flight was struck up, "no one was ever there to notice that I had survived after someone tried to kill me over the years..."
Almost to MacBeth's place, ahead of them they noticed some winged figures. As they drifted closer, Lexington's familiar under-arm-wing-silhouette became apparent. Demona ducked in the shadows of a nearby building.
"Don't tell me you are afraid of them," MacBeth mocked.
"No..." Demona stated in her usual angry voice, "I just prefer to avoid a dealing with them right now." She breathed in and then out and said in a calmer tone, "besides, if they saw us together they'd probably think it was some plot and would stop at nothing to bug us to death." When the other gargoyles had past, they continued the flight saying nothing.
"Is your wing alright?" MacBeth asked when they arrived at his place,
"It'll heal during the day." She replied simply.
"But...but you have no wings during the day." Demona just laughed at his confusion and they headed into MacBeth's place.
"When did you learn to cook Italian food?" Demona continued to try to be polite...this was better than finding something else to eat at home and she doubted Wendy's would serve a gargoyle even if they were open this early. She sat down to eat in an easy chair in MacBeth's living area.
"You were in Italy in the late-1400's I think it was?" MacBeth said. Demona nodded after thinking for a second. He continued, "I just missed you later that century. I fell in love with a family who's mother was a great cook. They took me in and I felt welcome for the first time in a long time..." he trailed off. After a pause he gave out a sigh.
Demona looked up from her food with such understanding it shocked her. She asked, though already guessing the answer, "What happened?"
MacBeth took in a deep breath, "They died in the Plague."
Demona knew that feeling all too well. "What's the point of living like this?" Demona said suddenly, breaking the calm. She put her plate down angrily, "I mean, we just out live everyone we care about, see all of them die!" she gave a soft catlike growl. "We've tried everything, there's nothing left to live for. This isn't sane! There's a reason beings are given a limited life span!" She yelled, eyes red, cheeks hot and a tear streaked her cheek as she picked up her plate and frisbeed it at the wall.
MacBeth gritted his teeth at the memories. He sighed again and said softly, "What is the point? Is it really worth it?" MacBeth got up and it was his turn to pace angrily. "All the magic we could learn after a millennia... even conquering the world would never make up for all we've lost!" They both pondered this for a moment. MacBeth took another couple of paces and sat back down. They both glared at the floor for a few moments like it was the carpet's fault for everything that had happened to them. When MacBeth had regained his cool he said, "We should think of things we haven't done yet...I don't know, see the world?"
"Sounds dull," Demona said, clenching her fists with the anger that had not yet subsided.
"I hope you don't want to kill yourself...Well, I'm sure there's something you have to live for. I've grown fond of my history students, for example. Once schools starts again, I'll enjoy working with them. Of course I have to change school districts every five or ten years or so because they think I should be getting to retiring age, and then I have to forge new documents every once in a while to prove that I'm as old as I looked..." He said that angrily, obvious that as much as he enjoyed teaching, living a secret immortal life was more aggravating than it was worth. MacBeth got up and leaned against the wall, deep in thought. His mind wandered as he calmed, "Teaching... helping a child grow...like my own son" he spoke in a melancholy, distant voice, "Those were the days... what about Angela? Wouldn't you like to see her grow up?"
"From a distance." Demona growled.
"Give the clan some time." He tried to reassure her, "Seeing the light in the eyes of a child when they have learned something is a true gift. You will see it in Angela and your grandchildren."
"And my great-grand children..." Demona growled
"I'm sure we'll find some way to make this life work out..."
"You'd think we'd have learned something by now?" Demona said angrily.
"We could just kill each other," MacBeth offered.
"What, when I was just starting to enjoy abusing you?" Demona scoffed
Before sunrise came, Demona took off. It wasn't a lighthearted discussion, but they were glad they had it . They were glad they could let it out although neither would ever admit it.