Hey guys. Not much happens in this one but I'm just trying to get farther into the story to set some stuff up.

Sorry if Malina might seem OOC or if things seem like they're moving too fast. Or if any characters seem OOC. Still trying to get the hang of this. Feel free to shoot a message if you see any errors or inconsistencies. Or leave a review, if you liked it!

Anyways I don't any brand names, characters, yada yada. All I own is Ollie. That's it. Hope you guys find some enjoyment from this. And do forgive the shameless Battlefield 4 shilling. Started playing it again and I've many fond memories of it. :^)

Do enjoy. Until next time.

…...

"No! Nuh-uh! No damn way!" Ollie bellows, nearly choking on his half-eaten burger. "What'd she do next?"

Malina takes her time, swallowing the grease-riddled fries. "She ripped out his spine and beat him with it." She says plainly. Ollie blanches. Awkward silence fills the van.

"Man. Hell's pretty violent, isn't it?" He asks. She gives him a look of disbelief.

"...It's literally Hell." She deadpans. He barks a laugh.

"Yeah, fair enough. Man, I'd say to remind me not to flirt with your sister, but..." He looks at his arms. "I think she gave me enough of a reason, heh."

"It was stupid to get involved. Taker can get away with it because he's the communal meat dildo. You're not. And you're pretty scrawny" She says, eyeing him. He withers a bit at that. "But thanks for that, I guess. It'll happen again, though. Always does."

"No problem. Just... I NEED to get bigger." He asserts, staring off into space.

"Eh," She shrugs, scarfing down more fries. "Justice might be able to help you. She used to be the High Prosecutor." Malina mentions.

"Yeah, I just might." He says, throwing the car into drive and pulling out of the parking lot.

They sit in a companionable silence for a couple minutes, enjoying the scenery pass them by. Ollie breaks it. "Hey, Malina..." He trails off before his sentence gets anywhere.

"What is it?" Malina pushes.

"In Hell did you ever meet a woman named Katerine? Not a demon, a- when people die what are they? Souls? She died. Not too long ago."

She thinks for a moment. "Meh. Not that I know. Judgement would be the person to ask. She sentences all the souls who come through."

"Hmm. Haven't spoken to her, yet. Either way, I hope the cunt's having fun down there." He hums, voice laced with disdain. "So, how did my uncle manage to get demons to join a harem on Earth if Hell is so hostile?" He wonders.

"Well, he offered Pandemonica coffee. I left Hell for the Turn-Based strategies. Hell doesn't have any wi-fi." She shrugs.

"Eesh." He winces. "Can't imagine what that's like. By the way, thanks for helping me find the shit I was looking for."

"Whatever. I needed to get a new controller anyways." She shrugs. Ollie isn't sure he wants to know what happened to the last one. "What did you need aluminum powder for?" She asks.

A drop of sweat runs down Ollie's face.

"Illegal stuff. Don't tell Uncle." He states simply.

"Is it fun?"

"Very. It's... thermite." He admits reluctantly.

"What do you need to make thermite for?" Malina asks, eyebrow cocked.

"Oh, I don't need it for anything. I just like making explosives and stuff. I- actually I probably shouldn't teach you how to make it." He realizes, cutting himself off.

"Tch. Be that way." She grumbles.

"Hey, don't blame me. Uncle will have my head if he finds out I'm making Thermite, let alone teaching one of you to make it. I can teach you to make smoke bombs, though." He amends.

"You'd be surprised. A lot goes down at home." She shrugs.

"Pff. Yeah, gathered that. Only took, what, an hour tops?" Ollie jokes.

"Surprised it took that long."

"What, shit like that happen that frequently?" Ollie asks. "I thought Unc was overselling it."

"Eh, usually it's more like Cerberus tearing up the pillows or something like that." She shrugs. "Give me the aux."

"Go crazy, champ."

And so, they made their way home in silence. Malina too occupied with picking the next song, and Ollie too tired to interrupt her.

…...

"...So you see, now that we have the mixture, which looks like a grainy Caramel, we pour it carefully into the tube. Then," He gestures to the metal rod in his hand. "We use this to pack it down until it fills it to the top of the tube. Before it cools, we insert the fuse and let it cool off." Ollie finishes explaining as he goes, gesturing to the finished product. "And that's a smoke bomb."

"It's that easy?" Malina asks, surprised.

"M-hmm. Household items and a hot plate. Easy as." He declares, proud of himself. His moment of pride is interrupted by none other than Zdrada, lit cigarette in hand.

"Oh, hey Malinka. What are you doin' hanging out up here, is fresh meat here your new boy-toy?" She cackles, blowing an inordinate amount of smoke which billows through the poorly-ventilated attic.

"Augh- hack! Put that shit out in here, you fuckin' nuts?" Ollie chokes, the harsh smoke irritating his nostrils.

"Or what, bitch boy? You'll hit me with a chair again?" She smirks.

"I-I won't make it so fuckin' easy this time." Ollie stutters nervously, stepping back, lowering his stance defensively.

"Lay off, Zdrada. You don't want to piss off Taker again." Malina defends.

"Maybe that's exactly what I want Malinka." Zdrada jokes, snuffing her cigarette out on the wall. "But whatever."

"Eh, I had to repaint anyways." Ollia mutters, easing up and taking a deep breath.

"So, what are you nerds up to in here?" Zdrada asks.

Ollie glares, irritated. "Why are you even here?"

"Ugh, Taker told me he wouldn't bang me until I made nice, so I'm sorry or whatever." Zdrada groans, offering a halfhearted apology.

It takes Ollie a second to think of what to say, if he even accepts her apology. "Just don't maul me again. You can go now." He dismisses, turning back to his project.

"Just wanna' see what you losers cooked up, don't leave hanging you fucking tease." She urges.

He sighs, exasperated. "Smoke bombs. Now go." He orders. To no effect, needless to say.

"No way, I wanna see it!" Zdrada laughs, reaching for it.

Before Ollie can pull it away, she snaps her fingers and ignites the fuse towards the bottom. It ignites the mixture almost immediately, billowing smoke as a bit of flame sparks out of the top like a flare. The tube burns hot, leaving angry red patch on Ollie's hand. "Agh! WINDOW! WINDOW" He howls. Hurriedly, Malina throws open the window and Ollie carefully tosses the smoke bomb onto a patch of dirt so it doesn't ignite the grass.

"Woah, shit. I didn't think it'd burn that fast. Coo-" Zdrada starts, but unbeknownst to her, she lit two fuses. The one on the bomb, and Malina's.

"Are you fucking kidding?!" Malina shouts, outraged. "Are you trying to burn down the house!? Look what you did!" She gestures to the now slightly-charred skin on Ollie's palm and fingers. The skin bubbles slightly in other places.

"It only took you fifteen seconds to fuck up right after apologizing! Typical! Fucking typical!" She rages.

"It was an accident Malinka! Damn! Get off my back!" Zdrada tries to defend herself. Malina isn't having any of it.

"I don't have time for this, fuck!" Malina yells, grabbing Ollie by the elbow and dragging him out of the attic. Frozen in both fear and pain, he finds himself in no position to resist.

High on adrenaline, he finds himself in one of the chairs in the kitchen. Malina places a bag of ice in his hand, and it simultaneously irritates and soothes the burnt flesh. "Can't believe I have to play nurse..." She mutters. "I'm gonna' go look for Azazel, stay here with Justice." She demands.

As the adrenaline wears off and the stinging, searing pain starts to become more apparent, he does notice Justice sitting at the table.

"Damn kid. I don't know what you were playing with but it must have been nasty." Justice remarks, small smile on her face. It'd almost be comforting if his every nerve in his hand was in agony.

"Mm." Is the only response he can manage at the moment, focusing on trying to keep himself quiet. 'Goddamn fuck me dead, bastard whore!' He wails internally. 'This is worse than my fucking back piece.' He decides talking might be a good idea. At least to get his mind off the pain, as unlikely as that seems. "All fuckin' Zdrada's fault..." He utters through grit teeth.

"Yeah, I know. Malina told me to watch you until she finds Azazel. Didn't wan't Zdrada to bother you." Justice says. Well, who better than the Ex-Head Prosecutor of Hell? "Gotta' say, Zdrada must have it in for you." She remarks.

"Seems that way..." He trails off, before he remembers his talk with Malina earlier. "Hey, Malina says you can help me get in shape. That true? Could use the help if you don't mind." He asks. She ponders it for a moment.

"Well, from what the others say, you are kind of frail. Suppose I can help but it won't be easy." She agrees.

"From what they- oh." Ollie stops himself short. "Right. I'd appreciate it. I had worse, how bad can it be?" He jokes, gesturing to his hand. Not that she can see it, of course.

"Sure. Can start whenever you're ready." Justice states.

"Well, probably not today." Ollie chuckles.

"What fucked your hand up, anyway?" She wonders.

"Eh, was making smoke bombs in my room. Zdrada lit one in my hand. The tube didn't catch fire but the mixture inside burns hot as... well, maybe not as hot as Hell but too fucking hot to hold." He mutters, feeling another spike of pain flare through his hand.

"Glad Azazel can just heal this good as new. I been burned plenty of times and going to the burn unit is probably the worst way to spend an evening." He mutters.

"Any stories there?" She asks, interested.

"Well... none that are any fun, no." Ollie shifts in his chair, uncomfortable at the subject.

In the nick of time, Malina arrives with Azazel in tow. Thankful for the chance to change the subject, Ollie perks up. "Oh, thank God."

"Don't thank God, thank me." Malina grumbles, cheerful as ever. That is to say, not at all.

"Oh my, that looks bad." Azazel says, shocked. Hurriedly, she removes the bag of ice.

"Unh!" Ollie winces, jumping at the touch. She utters a small apology, and sure as God's got sandals, the pain fades. Before his eyes, his skin turns a healthy color once more. Disturbed at the sight, Ollie averts his eyes.

"There, all better!" Azazel beams.

"Thanks, guys. I owe you." He stands, flexing his hand. "Hope this isn't gonna' become a regular thing, though... Have to teach me how to do that sometime, Azzy."

She giggles. "Well, first you'd have to die and go to Heaven."

"Yeah well, something tells me that dying isn't so unlikely at this rate. Going to Heaven definitely isn't happening." Ollie jokes, though the tone in his voice is far from jubilation.

Brushing it aside he turns to Justice. "So, guess we can start tomorrow if you're free?" He asks, offering his hand for a shake.

"Sure thing, just come find me when you're ready." She agrees, but doesn't take his hand. He stands there awkwardly for a moment, before Malina cuts it.

"She's blind dumbass."

"Shit! My bad." He groans.

That was the day Ollie learned something. Maybe not all demons were THAT bad.

…...

Maybe demons were as bad as he thought. Because it certainly seemed like Malina was enjoying watching him get shit on in every match he got into. "Bastard!" Ollie shouts, throwing his controller onto the bed. "Why is everyone still playing Tekken able to whup my fuckin' ass?!"

"Maybe you just suck." Malina snorts, taking a sip of vodka, straight from the bottle of course.

Ollie snatches it from her, taking a big swig of it and coughing. "Urgh, yeah that's definitely a part of it."

"Then why are we playing it?" She grouses.

"Most of the games I have are FPS games. Figured I'd pick something we both might enjoy." He huffs, passing the controller to Malina. She takes it, but exits the game, scrolling through the game library.

"What else you got?" She wonders, scrolling through somewhere around 210 games.

"HM1 and 2, uhhh I got Battlefield 4, 2042 even though it's shit, Call of Duty, Cyberpunk, plenty of shit." He lists off. "What're you thinkin'? I know you don't like Shooters but Battlefield 4 is still really good, even if it's dead. I mean, you can still find servers but everyone plays Golmud Railway and that's pretty much only good for sniping." He explains. "Unless you have the DLCs, which I do."

"Ugh." Malina groans. "I'll try it. But if I don't like it, I'm going to make you learn how to play Heroes 3."

"Deal. Deal. I'll find a server for you."

"You weren't kidding, there's like 1,000 people playing." She says.

"'Ey, it ain't that bad. Can still find a few servers. Kinda sad to look at, though. I remember playing this in high school and trying to find a server that wasn't full." He reminisces fondly. "To better times?" He offers a cheers, bottles raised. She grabs another from a case.

"Well, not like I've had any better times but whatever." They clack the bottles together. "Cheers."

"Cheers. This one's to Eight Beers, the mad bastard." He tips the bottle, giving it one more good pull, emptying it.

The next hour or two consists of much of the same banter. As the hours pass, they get increasingly more drunk, Ollie trying and of course failing to match Malina drink for drink. Something about "Demon metabolism", Malina mentions. Shot by shot, the night continues. They run through most of the BF4 maps. Operation Locker, in all its clusterfucking glory. Zavod 311, camping the factory basement.

"H-hey Malina." Ollie slurs out, considerably more drunk than Malina.

"Mm."

"Thanks feeer helpin' me earlier. Summa you guys're alright." He laughs.

She offers a grunt of affirmation. "Whatever." She admits, voice so low his drunken ears barely pick it up.

"Urrgh. It's soo late. I wonder if Azazel can help cure hangovers." He clutches his head."

"Nope. I tried it once. Doesn't help."

"Oh." He mopes. "Fuck, I wish I stocked up on RedBull."

"You should probably go to bed already, you're fucking wasted." Malina advises.

"Ooooh alright. Sure." He agrees, falling down clumsily across the bed. He curls up behind Malina, who is surprisingly still playing.

"...Sing me a lullaby." He laughs. He hears what he can't discern as either a scoff, or a small laugh from Malina.

"Don't push your luck, dumbass."

"You gonna stay here fer a bit?" He asks.

"Still vodka left, of course I'm staying here." Malina huffs, as if it wasn't obvious.

"Mh. Ok. Have fun." He mutters out, groggy.

It is to the sounds of Malina cussing out frag spammers that Ollie drifts to sleep that night.

It's the most content he's felt in years. But that might just be the Vodka talking.

Whatever the cause, he sleeps a dreamless sleep that night.

…...

He of course awakes to the same sounds early in the morning. At first, Ollie doesn't find it strange. Trying to ignore his terrible nausea, he snuggles deeper into his pillow, hugging it close to his face. He does find it strange, though, that his pillow doesn't feel as soft as before. Of course, the intense hangover makes his head ring, and in moments he finds himself awake.

And once his eyes peel themselves open despite the crust that has formed, he finds his arms around Malina's midsection. Strangely she doesn't seem bothered.

He flinches, leaning back against the wall. "Urgh, shit s-sorry Mal. Didn't know you were still here."

"Eh, I was gonna leave after I finished the last bottle, but you grabbed me so I just kept playing." She huffs, blasting a team with the DAO-12.

"Y'coulda' woke me up, I wouldn't have minded." He offers, rubbing his eyes.

"It wasn't a big deal. Besides, I've been on fucking fire all night." She says, as the round ends. Conquest Large on Shanghai, 57 kills, 3 deaths.

"Damn, okay." He yawns, clutching his head. "I feel like shit."

"Taker came by and dropped off breakfast. Said to go find him when you we're up." Malina says, pointing to the plate of Chocolate pancakes and a glass of juice on the nightstand.

"Balling." He says, rolling one up and taking half in one bite. He melts at the sweet relief of a sugary breakfast after a night of drinking. "Aah." He moans. "Uncle knows how to fuckin' chef it up." He finishes the second bite, taking another one as he chugs down the glass of juice.

"Help yourself to whatever, just turn my shit off when you're done." He requests, making for the door.

"Whatever."

The sugary breakfast and hot shower having done wonders for the throbbing pain in his skull, he emerges from the shower feeling like a new man. Or at least, one with a much more manageable headache. Plodding down the creaky old stairs, he finds an amusing sight. That being Cerberus- Cerberuses? Cerberi? The three dog girls bounded in chains on the sofa, currently being scolded by Judgement. Much in the fashion one would scold a normal dog, now that he thinks about it.

"Bad! Bad girl! How many pillows do you have to chew up before you learn?" She chides, though it doesn't seem to affect the three all that much.

Or are they one person? He's not quite sure, he'll have to remember to ask at some point.

"Mornin' Judgement." He greets, yawning.

"Oh, good morning, Ollie. Taker is in the backyard." She mentions, before returning to her ineffective punishment.

"Thanks." He says, slowly but surely making his way across the stuffing-strewn floor. He steps through the door, and the sunlight reminds him of the reckless drinking he partook of last night. Shielding his eyes from the sun, he steps down the stairs. Sure enough, his mountain of an uncle is stood by the fence overlooking the woods. Clad in his signature glasses and red dress shirt, no less.

He turns at the sound of the creaky old door, noticing Ollie in all his disheveled glory. "Oh, good. You're up. Come here." He waves over.

He makes his way over, stepping over the many fresh-dug holes in the sod. "Mornin' Uncle. You wanted to see me?" He asks, leaning against the fence.

"Yep. First off, how are you settling in? I heard about what happened yesterday."

"Oh uh, Zdrada notwithstanding, pretty okay. Malina and Justice are pretty nice. And Azazel. Haven't seen much of the others, though. Besides, y'know." He explains, staring off into the distance.

"That's good. I hear you and Malina are getting along well?" Taker asks, in a tone ordering on teasing.

"We both like video games. Only person besides Malina that does is Azazel, and she said she was busy with her 'studies' or whatever." He huffs.

"I heard she stayed up all night with you playing shooters. I'm surprised. She's never spent that much time at once with anyone. And she hates shooters." Taker emphasizes.

The only response Ollie can muster is a low-energy shrug. "Dunno what to tell ya'. We just get along I guess."

"Either way, I'm just glad she gets along with someone." Taker says, rusting Ollie's hair. He shakes loose from his grip, groaning. "Oh, right. Sorry."

"Meh, s'fine." Ollie shrugs. "So, what'd you need me for?"

Taker looks in the direction of the garage for a moment, before looking back at Ollie.

"Let's take a ride, kid."