Far From Angelic


Intermission/ Short One: Demon Call

"Dick Grayson..."

"I find human names weird!" Diavol swung carelessly on the chandeleir, his tail wavering dangerously near the light. Bruce was twitching with annoyance. The demon had managed to stay for a week and already had come with plenty of close calls to breaking the antiques. Bruce knew that Demons were slightly destructive, (the understatement of the year) but he thought that they had control over that. He found out, they did not. Especially ones still in training, he mused. Diavol wouldn't give anything else about himself other than he was a demon. He didn't say what type or any of his backstory. Which, led to Bruce being a little bit frustrated. Since Diavol would be staying in the Wayne Manor, they would need to come up with a whole new 'persona' so that Diavol would be able to live in Gotham freely. The problem? Diavol didn't legally exsist. There were no birth records, no certificates, nothing. But he didn't expect anything less, he was a demon, after all.

"You need one if you're going to stay with me." Bruce commented idly, staring at the boy's obvious athletics.

The demon pouted and curled around the chandeleir like a cat, the tail swinging angrily. "I still don't see why Diavol is such a bad name."

Bruce pointed out. "Your name means 'Demon.' People don't name their children 'Demon.'"

Diavol's aura darkened in annoyance. "But…"

"We made a deal, follow the policies."

The darkness around Diavol sharpened to an almost blinding darkness. Diavol hissed. "I know about deals, human!" His tail crackled. "I'm a demon, for damn sake!"

Bruce glared at Diavol. "Don't swear."

SMASH! The lights disappeared and the glass slammed into the ground. The windows' light turned black, and the sound of the chandeleir falling resonated across the room. An eerie cackle with an angry tone echoed across the room. A soft hiss came from his right and Bruce jumped away from the couch as he heard a tearing sound against the couch. He dug his hand into his own pocket and brought out a small flashlight and quickly turned it on. Multicolored-eyes met his own as he narrowly sidestepped an incoming punch. The only thing visible were Diavol's eyes as the two fought in darkness. Bruce delivered a palm-heel into Diavol's eyes and kicked out at the substance in front of him. The substance disintegrated before becoming solid again and launching at Bruce. The vigilante grabbed the somehwhat-solid arm of the figure and twisted it behind Diavol's back. Diavol screamed and squirmed before Bruce brought him down into a pinned position.

"Fine, Fine! I'll choose a da- er, a darn name! Now let me go!" Diavol squirmed as he argued with Bruce. 'Potential' Bruce thought. "It'll be Richard, darnit! Let me go!" The lights in the room slowly brightened and reveal a trashed couch and a fallen chandelier. Bruce stood up, letting go of Diavol. Bruce caught the punch that was directed at him. Diavol pouted and his tail crackled before he relaxed his hand. "Richard 'Dick' Grayson-Wayne."

Bruce looked at Dick again. "Fix the couch."

Dickl sighed and pouted again before waving his hand at the couch. The couch turned a deep blue before reverting back to a flawless state, as did the chandeleir.

"You could always buy a new one…" muttered Dick, kicking his feet at the ground.

Bruce shook his head and sighed. This demon thing needed to get under control.