Test thread

[satans_son]

He sat outside of the diner, waiting for Patsy. It still felt new, even after years of marriage. Marriage? Him? The son of the literal Devil? Well, one of the literal Devils. Who knew how many of the bastards there were, though he was working on finding out just that. He had a growing list of Hell's movers and shakers committed to memory and..right, this was supposed to be about getting away form that stuff for a time. Patsy would likely not tolerant too much "shop talk", at least at the moment.

Comments

[demon_sight]

As they settle in and the hostess leaves with their drink order, Patsy turns to Daimon with a smile.

"Now, then... where were... we...?"

Her voice drops off as she turns to stare at something behind Daimon, down in the aisleway.

Hovering flatware. Rising from the busboy's dish caddy.

That's not something one sees every day.

[satans_son]

Daimon raises an eyebrow at Patsy's expression. He turns around.

"The hell..are we the only ones seeing this?" He keeps his voice down.

[demon_sight]

A sudden scream from one of the other patrons answered his question as several other dishes began levitating off the various tables.

A blast of heat came from the kitchen as the staff jumped into the eating area, a blast of flamed pursuing them partway there. Kitchen knives also flew from the kitchen, soaring in circles near the ceiling.

Patsy sighed and rolled her eyes. "Just our luck to come to the one haunted diner in San Francisco..."

[satans_son]

"And I picked the place..I swear I'm like catnip to these things. Can you see anything else else aside from the obvious?" Daimon stood up. "Any spectral or pointy-eared bastards in sight?"

[demon_sight]

"No demons," she noted, then paused. "Hang on a second..."

She pointed. "There."

Several objects began swirling, orbiting the point she indicated. "Some sort of spirit."

[satans_son]

"Well that's slightly less irritating," Daimon said with a slight hint of relief. "I'm going to see if I can get some kind of reading on it."

Daimon silently chants a few words, a hand extended towards the spirit.

"Hmm, not evil per se, but definitely pissed."

[demon_sight]

Patsy pursed her lips. "How do you want to take this? Quiet, or showy?"

[satans_son]

"I think it may be a little late for subtlety at this point, babe. Judging by the people that tore out of here we're likely going to get cops in here soon." He extends his hand out, summoning his trident. "Spirit, name yourself!"

[demon_sight]

The swirling material thrummed, and several people ran for the door, only to fine the doors stuck fast; they refused to open.

Simon Purdy, the spirit echoed. Order or get put!

Patsy winced. "He's... an old man."

[satans_son]

"I was about to," Daimon said to the ghost. "Though you made a scene before the waitress could come back. "So, Mr. Purdy? What's on your mind?" Daimon went with a calm approach at the moment. He wasn't getting any evil vibes off this ghost and would prefer to do this peacefully before having to cast the poor bastard out.