Secondhand Scholarship

[plslemmedie]

Huh.

Ryu Rumi is the queen of demons. Sure, let’s see.

——

She has lived for twenty years under the Honmoon, the great barrier that kept her predecessor, Gwi-ma, and his hoards from taking souls. She dethroned him when she was still just a child, and now she rules with an iron fist.

Well, not quite Iron.

“Ruuuuuumi!” Jinu’s singsong voice came from the entrance of her study, making her glance at him for a moment.

“Hello, Jinu.” Rumi said. “What new headache do you bring me?”

Jinu scoffed in mock offense, placing his hand on his chest. “I don’t always bring a new headache! Maybe I was bringing you something to eat!”

Rumi paused, lifting her unimpressed gaze to meet Jinu’s. Jinu cracked almost immediately.

“Ok, ok, fine. I do technically have a new headache. But! It’s one that really can’t be taken care of without you!” Jinu cheerfully said.

Great. Another thing that requires her ‘complete and undivided attention’, just like always.

“And what, pray tell, might that be?” Rumi sighed.

Jinu perked up at her answer, knowing it would mean she is willing to deal with it. “Nothing much, just two mortal girls that fell into the demon realm.”

Rumi jolted hard, her ink well spilling onto one of the papers she was signing. With a glare, Rumi’s stood up, fixing the ink well without looking.

“Jinu, I swear to the Honmoon above that if you are lying I will have your tongue taken out again.” She threatened.

Jinu held up his hands, stepping back as Rumi swept from the room. “Promise! Their in the northern grove, they seem very confused.” He pauses for another moment, considering, before nodding. “They also were able to summon honmoon weapons-“

Rumi is already gone as soon as she hears the last two words, the rest of them lost in the rush of movement as she slipped between the gaps of air and dust. Stepping forwards, Rumi let her eyes open.

In front of her stood two young woman, both glaring at her with open hostility. One of them, the taller of the two with starkly pink hair, is holding a glowing gok-do. The shorter of the two is holding a shin-Kal, something that makes Rumi pause for a moment in surprise before shaking it off.

The three women watch each other for a moment, waiting to see what the other would do. Rumi breaks the silence with a loud sigh.

“Ok, why are you two in my realm?” Rumi asks.

The taller one narrowed her eyes at Rumi. “Your realm?” The disbelief is evident in her mocking tone.

Rumi tries to ignore it. “Yes, my realm. Why are you two here? The whole point of the Honmoon is to keep humans up there and demons down here.”

The shorter girls shoulders drop as she looks at Rumi in complete bafflement. “Wait, your Gwi-ma? You’re a lot prettier than I thought you’d be.” She slapped a hand over her mouth as she finished speaking with a small squeak.

A faint blush spread across Rumi’s face before she could stop it. She struggled to focus as she stammered, “Ah. Uh, ok so I’m not Gwi-ma. My name’s Rumi, can I ask your names?”

“Zoey! And this is Mira!” Zoey spoke before Mira could say something, drawing a heated look from the taller girl. Zoey withered a little under it, shrugging apologetically.

“Nice to meet you both. Now, can you please tell me how you got down here? I already have a nightmare of paperwork to deal with just because you two are down here.” Rumi’s voice drifted dangerously close to pouty, despite her best effort. Something about these woman was making it difficult for her to keep the usual mask up.

Mira speaks up this time, eyes narrowed. “We were sent here to kill Gwi-ma, to end his threat forever. Not… whatever you are.”

With a sigh, Rumi waved her hand, manifesting a small round table with snacks and three seats. The two hunters tensed up at the motion, but Rumi didn’t let her own hesitation show, instead sitting calmly in one of the seats and taking a bite out of one of the treats.

“So, you were sent here to kill the previous ruler of demons, Gwi-ma, but instead find out he’s dead. So now I want you to ask yourselves; do you want to try and kill the new one, or join her for some treats and drinks?” Rumi kept her eyes trained on the two. She was feigning nonchalance and could only hope that the two would relax at the calm air.

Zoey took a step forwards, her eyes trained on one of the cupcakes, but Mira put a hand on her shoulder. “Zo, what happens if this is like the fade realm you told me about the other day?”

Zoey pauses, giving Mira a strange look, one Rumi unintentionally mirrors. “Wait, do you mean the fay realm? Mira, this is nothing even close to the Fay realm beyond the beautiful and definitely dangerous woman.”

Rumi couldn’t hide the way her patterns tinged pink at the compliment, and she pointedly looked away as Mira looked at her.

Hopefully she didn’t notice.

(She absolutely noticed.)

After a moment Rumi turned back, meeting Mira’s gaze. “So, tea and treats, or do you want to try to fight me?”

Zoey had her back to Rumi, but whatever she did drew Mira’s attention. Mira immediately flinched, like she’d been hit, but the way her cheeks were slowly coloring was a bit telling as to how effective Zoey’s strategy was.

“Fine! One drink, and you have to explain how you killed the king of demons.” Mira sat down, eyeing the drink warily before taking a small sip. She hummed, seemingly unconsciously, in approval.

Zoey sat down next to her, taking a big bite out of the cupcake she was eyeing earlier. Then, much to Rumi’s horror, she began to speak. “So! How exactly did you beat the king of demons? And are you the reason demon attacks have become so rare?”

Rumi took a moment to collect herself, fighting down the odd mix of revulsion and fascination that seeing the younger girl devour the cupcake gave rise to. “I ate him.”

Both girls choked at the same time.

“WHAT?!”

——

I dunno this popped into my head and I thought it was a fun idea. Rumi, not knowing she’s a half demon and managing to kill Gwi-ma, becomes the new demon king.

Mira and Zoey are hunters who never found their third, and were tasked with killing Gwi-ma in his “obviously weakened” state since the breach’s are so rare and only have a couple demons leaving them.

Jinu absolutely knows both of these things and is living for the drama.

[dremenec]

Pull me to the ground chapter 2

Two women step in when a guy gets pushy with Rumi at a bar. What happens after is meant to be a one-night stand, nothing more.

Beloved avoidant stray cat ryules rumi ❤️

[luna-azzurra]

Most writers don't have a writing problem. they have a finishing problem. and finishing is its own completely different skill that has almost nothing to do with talent. finishing requires you to be okay with the thing being real, being done, existing in the world where people can have opinions about it.

And a lot of people would rather keep it unfinished and perfect in their head than done and flawed and out there. an unfinished draft can still be anything. once you finish it, it becomes one specific thing with specific failures that specific people can point to. so you keep tweaking. you keep saying it's not ready. you go back to the beginning again.

And the years pass and you are a person who is always working on something and never the person who made something. and those are two completely different people with two completely different relationships to this thing they claim to love.

[luna-azzurra]

Quick Tips for Writing Descriptions

⟢ PICK THREE DETAILS MAXIMUM! your reader doesn't need to know every piece of furniture. Give them the broken clock on the mantle, the smell of cigarettes embedded in the couch, the water stain on the ceiling shaped like Italy. Their brain will fill in the rest. You're not writing an insurance inventory!!!

⟢ Use the senses people forget. Everyone does sight and sound, but what about: the metallic taste of fear, the way humidity makes your clothes stick, the phantom itch of being watched, that gross feeling when you touch something unexpectedly wet. GET WEIRD WITH IT

⟢ MOTION IN YOUR DESCRIPTIONS!! (Please?) don't just tell me the curtains are blue, tell me they're "shuddering in the AC blast" or "hanging limp like they've given up." Static description is a sleep aid. Make things MOVE

⟢ Your narrator's voice should COLOR everything! A depressed character won't describe the sunset as "beautiful mauve and amber streaking across the sky," they'll think "the sun's dying again, doing its whole performance art thing with the clouds"

⟢ Stop with the mirror descriptions! :( "She looked in the mirror and saw her auburn hair and green eyes" NO. Banned. Forbidden. Find literally any other way. Have another character notice. Show through action. Slip details in naturally. The mirror thing is lazy and we all know it

⟢ Similes and metaphors: COMMIT OR DON'T DO IT! "like" is not a get-out-of-jail-free card. "Her anger was like a storm" is BORING. "Her anger rolled in with the methodical inevitability of a hurricane, and he was standing in a trailer park in Florida" now we're TALKING

[luna-azzurra]

Quick Tips for Writing Time Skips

°˖➴ SHOW THE EVIDENCE, not the time!! don't say "three months later" and have everything exactly the same. Show the evidence: the houseplant is dead now, there's a new coffee shop, their hair is longer, the season changed, the relationship shifted

°˖➴ People don't pause their lives!! during your time skip, other characters didn't freeze. They got new jobs, started dating someone, developed opinions, had experiences. When we come back, there should be GAPS in what your POV character knows

°˖➴ Anchor it with a CONCRETE detail!! "The last time she'd been in this room, there'd been snow on the ground. Now the garden outside was screaming with roses." Give the reader something tangible to mark the passage

°˖➴ What DIDN'T happen is interesting!! "Six weeks and still no word from him" or "Another year of birthday candles she didn't make wishes on" sometimes the time skip is defined by absence and waiting

°˖➴ Compress boring stuff, expand important stuff!! "The trial took three months" can be one sentence. But the five minutes after the verdict? That might be three pages. TIME IS ELASTIC in fiction, use it!!!

°˖➴ Characters should FEEL differently about the skip !! time passing changes perspective. Something that felt devastating last year might feel trivial now. Or vice versa. What seemed certain became a mistake. SHOW THE SHIFT

[brainstreams]

If your novel has been living in your head for months (or years) then this is where it finally becomes a reality. I have a detailed planner with character sheets, chapter planning, worldbuilding, word tracking—everything. All in one place.

Instead of thinking about your book, start planning it.

[queermystic]

Please help me and my Mom survive the Spring

Hi I'm Casi, I'm a disabled enby who is the only caregiver for my elderly disabled mother and we are Homeless.

We're staying in a Hotel because its really the only safe option we have. We have no family or friends who could put us up even for a night and we dont even have a car to live in.

Moms SSI and SSDI are our only stable income apart from donations and the small income I make from my art. I've been seeking further employment but there are more people than jobs in this town and without the ability to commute....

Mom has had rheumatoid arthritis since she was 13 and has chronic bronchitis. I've also got arthritis and asthma and an autoimmune disorder and HS which has been flaring painfully recently.

It was over 100°f four days this past week and it's only going to get hotter. We need to be safely in out of the elements.

We have our room securely reserved and paid for until Friday but its Spring Break Season and we're an "affordable" tourist destination so the hotels are booking up fast. We lost our room on Saturday and had a whole scary difficult situation of scrambling to find another room and getting all of our belongings from place to place. I would really like to not have to do that again anytime soon.

The room is $79 a night, I think itll be around $600 for a Week, not really sure what the taxes and fees all come out to...

Reblogs are greatly appreciated. The more people who see this the more likely someone who can afford to help will see this. Please know that literally any amount of support would be incredibly appreciated. Every little bit of help adds up.

Literally any amount of help would be so incredibly appreciated.

PayPal // Ko-Fi // Redbubble

[queermystic]

Oh freaking hell yall

They hit us with a $125 cleaning fee for the room we got booted from on Saturday [I mean. I tried to keep it clean but we're both disabled and they weren't sending housekeeping over to us so yeah it wasn't getting cleaned as spotlessly as they'd like] and they also wanted a $200 cash deposit for this room. I was able to pay the cleaning fee and $120 of the deposit but I still owe $80 for the deposit and now I'm broke all over again and Still need to scrape together enough to make it through this month until mom gets paid again. If anyone can help please please do. Please.

-$80/ $600

[noodlejaq]

gd AU doodles

[kat-in-a-bin]

Mini (completed) polytrix art dump!

[langdons-divorce-papers]

Office Drone Rumi

Rumi stepped out onto the wet pavement, the air still thick with the moist entrails of yesterday’s rain. Her office rested a few blocks down in the business district of Seoul. She dreaded the walk down, the danger that lurked in the alleyways that she cut through to make it on time. Yet there was something about it, the cold crisp of air that snapped in her jaws with the shortest of exhales. The handful of minutes she spent under the neon spotlights of Seoul were the only ones that she felt like a real being. Not like the office drone that moved on an accustomed auto pilot, laughed at jokes from higher ups she found distantly amusing on a good day. A piece from a set of numerically employed dominoes, meant to topple as her employer pleased. No, Rumi knew herself more in these grasps of time in between than in a cubicle. The routine was simple. Clock in, smile pleasantly to her superiors— in rank she reminded herself, simple words on the top of plaques that dictated everything— and talked politely to everyone else. Not too much though, that would make her chatty, and people didn’t like her being chatty, considering Rumi wasn’t all that good at it. Grab a cup of water, and lean over it like it was coffee. People liked coffee? It was bitter, Rumi hated the thing with a passion but people liked it. Turn down the brightness on her screen, always too damn bright, the monitor practically set out to melt out her eyeballs. Click on a document, stress over emails that a client sent because they never had all the specs, a few “oversights” that had Rumi toss and turn in her pre-planned grave (mahogany casket with a cushy interior unlike her bed). Send an email to her coworker all the way in America that she won’t get an answer back from til halfway through the day unless the guy had stayed up to catch up on a deadline. So fifty fifty really. Take an early break when everyone is too busy hunched over their electronic boxes to pay her any more mind than a fly on the wall. Grab a protein bar from the vending machine, not the peanut butter flavor she liked but the middling but acceptable standard granola. Stare out the window and look at the crowds that flocked to the streets and think about how fun life would be if she was anywhere else. Listen to violent jazz with the volume cranked up, switch to heavy metal halfway while she practiced her dirty look in the faint reflection she got from the window— Celine said hers didn’t look good enough and someone would rob her blind given half the chance. Rumi would sit down back down in the cramped cubicle (even if the thing was three yards wide she'd still feel the walls press down into her elbows) and grind out more reports and lines of code for a company that was more interested in a product three projects ahead, and pray that her current boss wouldn’t be overtaken by another boss who most likely would scrap the code because it wasn’t their code. Not that they did anything to make that code but shit, did they really care so long as their name was on the top left of the email chain?

At a certain point her brain would shut off, and she completed tasks with the same amount of foresight that one gave to breathing. She would work until the sun had risen and fallen, and if she wasn’t done them she’d work a little more to make up for whatever thing she lacked. Since she had to lack something, otherwise why she work here? The walk back was never as nice as the walk there, no thoughs left to ruminate on. Not at that point she found anything to think at all. The idea just made her tired really. She found a small respite in the cafe a few minutes west of her apartment. Between a few clothing chains was a small almost rickety building. Rumi almost had the impression that given the slightest breeze the brick and mortar would topple like a house of cards.

The sign, plastered on the other side of the window in a generic font read some equally mundane name (too lazy to do that rn). She liked the iced chocolate well enough— and the grinds smelled alright for a bitter drink from hell. Mostly it was for the girl who ran the counter. Who smiled at Rumi's haggard appearance, a polite greeting that edged on something familiar. The woman busied herself with the various knobs and taps that seemed almost nonsensical in number and feature. It was easy to let her eyes relax and drift off as she watched the barista go, a hand already wrapped around her wallet. She had a certain bounce to her step that Rumi found herself mesmerized by. Quick, but often overshot her path to a machine, her hand grazed the handle, she under poured and would have to double back to the counter. Wasn't like Rumi minded the wait, if she were more audacious she'd say she enjoyed the view. In due time the drink would slide over to her side of the counter, the two would smile. One out of some customer service obligation and Rumi would awkwardly attempt her best rendition of an internal scream. She settled down next to a window and sipped on her small respite. A bolder Rumi would have asked for the girl's number, flirted, or even made more sounds than was strictly necessary. As it was, she didn't even know the barista's name. Name tag pulled off, wouldn't be the first one to avoid being first named by generic Gary #4. Understandable, but woefully inconvenient for Rumi. She groaned, head pulled into her hands, palms pressed firmly into her sockets. Pathetic really. She would tuck it in between her first and last name if the spot wasn't taken up by pushover, though she's sure pathetic pushover would roll nicely off the tongue. Rumi would throw away her cup and walk home. Usually that is. Right now she can't bring herself to stand up, be it exhaustion or dread, or the gentle humming that filtered through her ears. She'd stay here. Even if only for a little bit longer.

[babynapa]

hourlies

[fuckthisbloganditscurses]

Happiness Will Come To You.

[12goblins]

when tho

[fuckthisbloganditscurses]

When You Least Expect It. Probably Late March

[wizardshark]

reblog for happiness to come for you in late march!

[zigxortega]

[zac--efren]

I reblogged this last year and I hung out with blink-182 backstage on March 30. Reblogging again because it worked the first time.

[scientiablr]

honestly, last year one of the best days of my life happened in late March

[alanaisalive]

The other night husband and I were watching a documentary about the yeti where they were doing DNA analysis of samples of supposed yeti fur, and every one of them came back as bears.

Anyway, the next night we watched a thing about some pig man who is supposed to live in Vermont. People said it had claws and a pig nose but walked upright like a man. Now, I happen to know that sideshows used to shave bears and present them as pig men. So every piece of evidence they gave of this monster sounds to me like a bear with mange.

So now the running joke in our house is that everything is bears. Aliens? Bears. Loch Ness monster? Bear. Every cryptozoological mystery is just a very crafty bear.

Bears. They’re everywhere. Be wary. Anyone or anything could be a bear.

[iguanamouth]

oh shit

[throughshadow-to-the-edgeofnight]

[alanaisalive]

As the OP of this post, I’m going to threaten that if this gets to one million notes by the 10 year anniversary on 1 June 2026, one year from today, I will get a lower back tattoo of the loch ness bear monster.

[docd666]

Y'all know what to do Tumblr.

[dm-tuz]

Darkest Dungeon Monster Manual - The Farmstead

You can find the pdf containing all 23 monsters statblocks, as well as their tokens, in the drive link!

Courtyard Part 2 should be the next update. I was a bit swamped with keeping up with patreon and this was relatively straight-forward!

[dm-tuz]

I am going back through my archives to post and collect content that I might have missed. Indeed I never posted a compilation of my remastered Slaughterhouse Horrors here. So here you go.

You can find the full PDF for free on my patreon!

Check out patreon[dot]com/dmtuz for more content!

[tigerwolfdemon21]

Creole latina Zoey masterlist part 2

Cook + Eat Outdance Needy Mira Disrespectfully Buff Rumi 2 Not the time, guys Shi-woo Sean No longer cool Introducing your awkward introverted parents How Zoey unintentionally woo'd Mira Explaining what Creole Latina mean Zoey's Mom Cha Cha Slide Wedding Mira, destroyer of bathrooms The joys of children Languages Celine's personal growth Can you use this AU? Rules of the Bayou Where Zoey got her taste in women

Masterlist part three

[ap0ll0mutt]

I made myself cry editing chapter six for tough as nails so enjoy this hellscape thing i started.

Part of her wanted to scream to the heavens about the absolute shit show that was her entire life at this point. The other half was… occupied.

Namely, and of course firstly, with the lesser creature hanging out of her mouth.

These little faceless things reminded her of imps, or something equally unbefitting of the term assigned to the things that actually went bump in the night. These little creatures stole life force with grasping desperate fingers and part of Rumi wondered if they knew how much easier that was to take from animals.

Soul stealing was such a trivial game. Something relegated for weaker demons and whatever little underlings they managed to torment into submission. Humans marched their way to damnation with such ease all on their own it left the practice almost hilariously devoid of need. Though it did free up the rankings whenever one of them pissed someone off enough to get smote out of existence. Left a bit of wiggle room.

Not that the wiggle room would ever be for her, no she was content where she was. Perfectly human aside from the horrors, of course.

Paimon had stated with bemusement at every request when she had been young and learning that she would be free of his influence if she wished once she died a mortal death. Debt paid, or whatever it was. The phrase he’d actually used had been ‘blood let and blood consumed’ but she wasn’t going to pretend she could mimic the syrupy slow way the prince spoke.

No she was just one of those underlings; a well loved and doted on one but one nonetheless.

Which of course cycled back to her horrible stupid idiotic life. In no way should a human have been able to see her let alone address her. Then again, she supposed even as she fought to swallow the lodge in her throat, this particular human shouldn’t have been able to see the faceless that she’d been consuming either.

There were very few things that actually fed her. Blood and bone, human of course, but those things were rare and she didnt like picking it from her teeth or claws. Little goblin esc creatures that tasted of suffering and coalesced into fine cold sand in her throat? Much more ideal. Human food too of course, though she had to eat so much of it to feel full it may have well been useless.

Which was how she’d found herself here standing in a wet alley during monsoon season half out of her human skin and half into the demonic; staring with everything she had at a shorter black haired woman who stared back at her mouth hanging open.

How in all the circles of hell was this woman even looking at her? Plenty of people saw her human skin every day, fuck some people saw her feline form but no one could ever see her like this. Their eyes would slip over, bounced like a flat rock on a smooth lake. So Paimon help her if she just stared back with all four eyes.

Maybe her legs were still mostly human but she could feel both of her long thin tails slowly waving behind her. Her upper half was fully other, all four forelimbs having been focused on jamming the faceless down the wide open sharp tooth lined feline mouth. Her talons and teeth flickered in the single street light above her; the obsidian unmistakable for anything else.

Supposedly. Rumi, for one, had noticed long ago that humans barely recognized the world around them let alone the little facts and tidbits she collected every single day.

Because Paimon didnt deal in souls. No they dealt in information; information that despite her best efforts were never interesting to the proper humans around her. Boring mean creatures that so many of them managed to be. Rumi was young, as it was often pointed out to her when she tried to complain to her friends (coworkers?) and she would find humans interested in her hoard some day. They all had. Humans that didnt mind a little weirdness exuding off of their lovers. Humans whos thirst for knowledge brought Paimon’s faithful sniffing out their doorways.

Not her though. 25 years and she’d only ever been an annoyance to the humans around her in the most wildly frustrating way humanely possible.

Yet standing in front of her, still gaping, was a particular strange (interesting) human who’s eyes tracked her black obsidian tipped forelimbs as she dropped the upper pair and kept the middle raised to link her talons over the bridge of her muzzle. Humans liked it better when they looked less imposing didn’t they?

So she shut her mouth, hid away the sharp teeth, clasped her claws carefully over the bridge of her muzzle and closed the second set of eyes. This was all probably very alarming for that girl. She was so brightly dressed Rumi couldn’t imagine that this was a normal day on the office for someone who seemed so wholly untraumatized -

Tink.

Something warm clinked off her chest and it brought Rumi’s head down; all four sharp ears flicking towards the source of the sound. A knife. A little blue knife. Had that human flung a knife at her?

Cute. She hummed, mostly internally because humming out loud like this always made the black surface of her body clink in a way that frightened people. Still, it wouldn’t do to leave something that pretty on the ground. Rumi had never seen anything like it, outside of the pulsing blue lines of the Korean people’s protective ward. It lit blazing curiosity in her chest, she reached for it without thinking.

Maybe on another night where she wasn’t still so hungry Rumi would have had a stronger mindset to just leave the knife alone. Not tonight. There was still food on the loose, she could smell those pathetic little creatures mulling in the darkness; though they stank of fear now. Interesting. They hadnt feared her at all.

The sensation when her talons lifted that little blade was akin to a hearth fire. The soft licking of heat up her demonic body’s etched stone surface in the most soothing of ways. The funny part was it warmed her human skin too; something that never happened with hell fire. What it did have in common, apparently, was the sudden odd sucking feeling that told her she had two seconds to activate at least some of her magic.

To the woman, Rumi hoped she didnt move all that much in the air when what was left human about her popped out of existence. Though, looking back up to observe the particularly curious human it seemed like she was fighting back some secondary emotion behind raw confusion.

Now fully feline outside of the rock hard carved surface of her skin and hovering five feet off the ground Rumi did the polite thing and brought her hind legs and one set of the fronts tight to her body where they didnt look so awkward dangling. The set that connected at her ribs couldn’t fit like that but she liked to talk with those so it was okay. Right?

“What is this?” She asked, hopeful that she could trick some information out without having to offer anything in return. The little knife spun between her claws with a pleasant speed and the sound of it clinking nicely against the stone of her brought another happy hum out of the demon.

“Uh- How are you touching that? What are you?”

Ugh. So much for no transactions. Rumi hoped beyond hope she wouldn’t ask for anything hard. She was already still hungry.

“A demon” She supplied, very helpfully might she add. It was polite to offer up a little something before making deals. A signal that she was trust worthy! The knife dematerialized from her paw and with a quick glance she could see the human had it again. No, she had six of them now dangling from her finger tips.

“I mean yeah but why didnt that hurt you?” The woman asked slowly, head tipping as she took silent measured steps forward.

What a silly question. Why would a simple knife hurt her? She was made of obsidian. It would take a lot more than a silly little steel blade to do anything to her let alone a knife that felt like barely restrained magic.

Magic was a fickle thing, she desperately wanted to explain her talons all but vibrating with the urge. It only harmed what it was directly pointed against and that magic felt old in a way that was nearly humbling. Actually it reminded her of something.

“Oh!” And Rumi purred, pleased to have figured it out on her own without having to offer up anything actually important. “It’s connected to the protective ward, isn’t it? It feels similar” Her purr built up louder at the shocked look on the smaller women’s face. Guessing paid off sometimes, especially when your would be deal maker has the poker face of a drunk casino gambler.

Though with that tidbit decided and as badly as Rumi did want to hover here and learn more… The yawning desperate hunger was starting to beat at the hollow walls of her body. More faceless consumed were better for everyone really, right? Would that be a fair way to end this little game of cat and monster?

“Mmm thank you for that knowledge.” She finally offered extending her middle paws forward to flex her talons politely in the girls general direction. “I’ll have to repay you at a later date but I am starving.”

This woman it seemed was not good at goodbyes if the way she sputtered was any indicator. “Pay me back- what? For what?” And Rumi couldn’t help the small concerned noise she let out in response to that. Had this poor human been done over by another demon with less reverence for the rules? She sincerely hoped whoever had done it had met the end of their own deal as punishment. How crass.

“Goodnight” she finally offered, entirely uncertain how to comfort this girl and assure her that it wasnt her fault someone had taken advantage of her. They were punished, Rumi was sure of it. Nothing slipped past her lord. But for all her beliefs and big internal talks she’d never been good at the personality side of this entire thing. Better to just whizz off and let someone else do the hard part. They’d be sent eventually; Lord Paimon saw everything she did and he would make this right.

It was her only thought as she focused a little bit of effort and blew out the light high above their heads. It was the easiest escape route; humans and their horribly weak night vision being what it was. A downed light and a tiny hit of extra magic would get her out of this very curious situation and she’d find the girl again later to repay her for her easy answer. Win win.