For want of a throne [Behemoth/Blank/Invite]

She had done everything she needed to do here anyway, so she might as well put her feet up.

Asmodeus had ... some message for Mammon. Honestly, Behemoth wasn't listening, and just wrote it down for her own convenience. The demon had grumbled and complained but was forced to go to the Regal Necropolis anyway, a trip she hated. It was miles away, and she bored easily. Still, she got there in good time, and made her way through the red, broken city. She knew the way well, having wandered it for the first few years of her 'life', and while she wasn't that infamous, there were a few demons who remembered her time in the Necropolis and steered very clear of her; 'bardluck', the bizarre string of bad luck that plagued all her previous masters until their inevitable and gruesome demise, was thick in the air.

She had reached the Sanguine Palace and delivered the message (read; she made the paper she had written the message on into a paper aeroplane and threw it through the window) before deciding to take a rest before she made her way back. She couldn't be bothered to go to the Love Nest. No, she just wanted to kick back and relax a little. She wandered through the city for a long time...

... a long time...

"ARRRGGHHH! How pissing hard is it to find a fucking chair in this ballsack of a city?" She asked aloud, increasingly exacerbated with her fruitless efforts. Her eyes scanned the street she found. A long, dark hallway of stone, the red sky the ceiling. In the shadow, bright eyes, bared teeth, sharp claws. Who was this small demon to invade their home? Their district?! THEIR domain?! Behemoth simply looked around, then focused on one. "Oi! The one who's face looks like a shark's cunt! I need a chair!" Not the correct thing to say, as the demons began to slowly march out, weapons and fangs and talons at the ready. Behemoth shrugged a little, still frustrated, still waiting on her chair.

"rrrrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRR!!!!"

Every demon stopped, the point-dot eyes widening, before they retreated. Behemoth sniffed. Smoke. Flame. A stream of heat smacking into her back. The leather of her jacket and trousers becoming more uncomfortable. Her eyes drifted as her head turned. Shadows and fire, towering at twice her height.

"Huh. You didn't follow us from the Palace, did you?"

The barghest replied with a guttural growl, the snarl coming from its sun-like belly. The bony features hard, the eye sockets letting forth light, hunger and danger emanating from it. If only it had a tongue with which to lick its lips. Behemoth, so tiny, looked like an easy snack. She didn't move, or even particularly react. "Piss off back to mummy, alright, I've got shit to be doing." The beast roared to this, and stomped forward, now inches away from his snack, his mouth wide. Behemoth groaned irritably; this thing was not going to leave her alone.

"Oh fair e-fucking-nough! You want to play fetch?" With this, she drew her 'weapon', Inutile, the indestructible but small, trident-shaped lollipop. The barghest roared and slacked it's jaw, about to swallow the demon whole. "FUCKING CATCH!" Behemoth, in turn, hurled Inutile straight into the beast's mouth.

The barghest didn't know how to react as it leapt back. It didn't like strawberry. It didn't like strawberry at all. And this weird stick was cold! He had already swallowed it, but now it was jammed in his belly. He couldn't digest the cold thing! The beast retched, panicking. The red and orange flames turned a comical pink shade as it tried desperately to hack up the weird cold stick. The cold stick wouldn't go away, he couldn't digest it! It was going to kill him!

"Come on, give it back!" Behemoth shouted. In a spluttering, retching mess, the barghest obliged, a hacking cough finally ridding it of the horrible cold thing. It whimpered in pain, its stomach having lost some of its fire, that fire still being a bright strawberry pink. The barghest almost bowed to Behemoth, dropping to its legs, before simply turning tail and running home, deciding that it wasn't worth the trouble to try and take revenge if it meant eating that terrible vile thing again. Behemoth shrugged her shoulders, and picked Inutile back up.

"Right, that's done." She said to herself, before turning around.

A grin uncurled onto her face.

Clearly the display of the barghest simply turning and fleeing after being incapacitated had changed the attitude of all the demons who were ready to tear her limb from limb. Now they simply fled, leaving only one item in the very middle of the street. A red velvet sofa, gold-lined armrests fit for a king. A silk drape laid across it. Behemoth couldn't say no to the hospitality; it wasn't like the demons knew that Inutile wasn't a deadly weapon of great power, but a novelty strawberry lollipop as harmless as an actual lollipop. She simply fell across the sofa, her form splayed out, her wings outstretched, her horned head settling into the regal cushions. She took off her jacket, hanging it on a coat-rack that a demon very suddenly placed next to her before fleeing away once again, and she dug out a book; "Caravaggio: The Art of Realism". With that, she simply lounged, now knowing that her little display would mean that nobody would bother her for a while.

Today was starting to be a good day.

Febuary 3rd, 2:06 PM

It had been a good day so far. Blank had shifted over early in the morning and spent the time establishing the perimeter around where his flat was in the real world. He'd only had to kill a few but he'd re-donned the eyepatch for easiness sake. He was beginning to get a headache in the distraction of Soul Energy.The crimson sky was foreboding as always as Blank noticed a particularly pathetic looking Barghest scampering around. He had no great love for the beasts but it was unusual to see one looking so downtrodden. Slipping forward from his perch, Blank dropped from the roof of a four storey building and landed in a small crunch of cobbles (or bones, he didn't bother checking) and started approaching the Barghest. The snarling beast seemed intent on redeeming itself of the earlier defeat until Blank booted it firmly in the side. Whimpering once more and cursing it's luck, Blank hunkered down and looked at it curiously
"Someone really beated you" he noted in his usual slightly stilted demonic. The dog seemed scared for it's life and Blank disobeyed his training as he stood up and waved it away, no mood for killing terrified puppies.

As the Barghest fled, Blank removed his eye-patch and let his Soul Energy eye look around. He smiled briefly and reached a hand into a pile of tombstone like bricks before yanking suddenly and producing a small imp like demon who was at least capable of speech
"Letmego, Letmego!"
"What beated Barghest, tell!"
"Hell's teeth, your infernal is awful EEEEE" this last was caused by Blank holding the thing up before his eye, most demons in Necropolis knew what that eye did.
"The dark skinned woman! We should have known better we-"
"Behemoth? Hmmm" Blank tossed the imp away and started walking in the direction he'd seen the Imp come from. He could see one stronger trail of energy... following it, Blank slipped his eyepatch back on, didn't want to give the game away. As he approached an alleyway he stopped and peered around.

The regal throne sat in the middle of the street, the utterly relaxed pose and the spread wings. She hardly looked like a behemoth but a quick stroke of his chin gave Blank time for thought. True Demon forms often barely resembled their mortal forms, assuming she was an Arch-Demon (hasty, he hadn't really seen her yet) he should run now. But if she was just a major subordinate he could do some real good before he went home for the afternoon. He took a second to look again, noting her black skin and general appearance. The demons in the area seemed to be kow-towing to her... that just made him curious.

He'd heard of a Behemoth, said to be incredibly deadly and that plenty had died around her... this could well be her. She fit the physical description anyway, but she lived in the Blight he thought? Why would she be in the Necropolis? Setting his jaw and tensing, Blank rounded the corner and stared her down with his single eye
"Behemoth! Is truth what saying they?" Blank took a second, cursed to himself
"She'll speak bloody English, everyone does. Behemoth! I hear tales of people being killed around you is this true? Who is it you've killed?" because Blank was at least observant enough to note that he hadn't heard any tales of her killing Demon Hunters. Maybe he should hear her case. Though he wasn't stupid enough not have his Devil Eye: Cannon ready to fire...

Febuary 3rd, 2:06 PM

"Behemoth! Is truth what saying they?"

Behemoth looked up from the Caravaggio book. "Is what in the what what?"

"Behemoth! I hear tales of people being killed around you is this true? Who is it you've killed?" English? ENGLISH? Few demons ever started off a conversation with English. Behemoth's eyes locked onto the human with the eyepatch. He stood a small ways-away, the short hair flapping in the small wind. Behemoth gritted her teeth. Humans. Demon hunters. Behemoth wasn't a fan; the first demon hunter she worked for was definitely the worst of all her previous masters, and she didn't exactly feel bad about killing him. Her opinion of them didn't improve over time. But she also didn't exactly feel like fighting. Maybe she could just get him to go away. Besides, it was nice that there were tales of the vast trail of bodies behind her, even if the majority of them were accidents.

"Fuck off already, will you?!" She screamed, before hurling the book she was reading straight at his head, before her motor-mouth began to go off, a wave of obscenities readying itself in her throat. "I've killed lesser demons! I've left elite demons screaming and bleeding like haemophiliacs on their fucking period! I've killed fucking demon hunters by ripping out their fucking hearts and ramming them up their dickholes until they spunked their own blood! I've killed your mother by burrowing into her stagnant diseased cunt! Now bring my pissing book back and go rub an AIDS-ridden hedgehog onto your cock until you're left with a fucking vagina! I've got shit to be doing and I don't need some prick with two fingers in his butthole coming over and asking me how to piss properly!" On either end of the street, even the demons who had stayed to watch now left, blushing red and thoroughly embarrassed by Behemoth's vile language.

Without a movement from his head, Blank raised a hand and caught the book deftly, his improved spatial awareness working even with the eyepatch on. As Behemoth began screaming at him he looked at the book, seeming to pay her no mind. He had no idea what this was, a book on manifesting as a human?... Nope, it was about an artist. Well, that's... unexpected. He looked up in time for the brunt of Behemoth's ranting.

Blank's reaction was fairly typical as he stood still and didn't even seem to react to the torrent of abuse being unleashed upon him like a stream of hatred hooked up to the internet. He'd been pretty well-conditioned to this but with a finger rested on his chin contemplated the exact words she'd used. He knew she hadn't killed his mother, since she'd been dead 21 years and even if she HAD been the one to do it, his father would have solved that before now. That was even assuming she knew his mother was dead, Demons were fond of threatening parental care-givers to get reactions.

The order she used was curious, Blank thought as he walked towards her, book in hand and tapping his chin with the corner of it. She went lesser demons, elite-demons, demon hunters, you'd think she'd stick to just mentioning demon hunters rather than listing the rest, and the implications of them being last was that they were rated at the top. Well, he was flattered but the last one didn't convince him well and as he held the book loosely he seemed to be contemplating something
"What's the ratio? Demons to Hunters" his face was impassive but inside he was pondering. Considering he'd only heard of Behemoth killing 'somebodies' the identity of those 'somebodies' seemed quite important. If she was just a demon who killed demons he wasn't about to get off something helpful. He was holding the book hostage until she gave him a straight answer.

Behemoth couldn't help but not stand still, the demon hunter simply walking over. Book in hand, tapping against his chin in curiosity. Behemoth knew that she didn't look too intimidating; it's why she changed her name to Behemoth rather than 'Hennimore', which she now merely used as a surname. Finally, when he was within arm's reach, he posed the question, his face still and calm.

"What's the ratio? Demons to Hunters." He asked. Behemoth didn't move for a second. A bit of a smug question, as if he was sizing her up, holding her book to ransom until he had a firm clue. Trying to judge how dangerous she was. The street remained still and quiet, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife, one figure waiting for an answer, the other waiting to reply...

... Behemoth poked the demon hunter in the eye.

"It's a good enough ratio." She remarked, taking her book easily out of a distracted, weakened grip, before she placed her hand on his chest and pushed the man lightly back, falling back onto her sofa. "If you're going to be a salt-watered cunt about it and try to keep my book away from me, don't stand two fucking feet away." She placed her horned head back into the comfort of her cushions, her feet lazily resting on the armrest opposite. She looked the hunter up and down once more. He didn't look much, though looks were very deceiving. She was proof of that.

"Now leave your clothes and wallet here and get lost and I might be spare you the fate of my second master, who was a demon hunter I should ask, otherwise I'll rip your spinal column out and ram each disc so far up your tight arse that you'll choke on each fucking one!"

He was being laid back, as much as he could be but the poke wasn't a wise move. Behemoth hadn't noticed it but while he'd moved and it had certainly looked as if he'd been poked in the eye, Blank was spatially aware of nigh on everything within his personal space and had improved reflexes. He'd reclined backwards so the fingertip stayed a millimetre away the entire journey, his eye was still fine. He was less than amused by the attempt though. He'd not been paying attention to the book either as she snatched it and placed a palm on his chest to push him away. Blank carried on, allowing the push as the grey skinned woman returned to her seat and seemed to be eyeing him up. She'd probably be at least slightly surprised as he moved his head back again and rather than clutching in agony at his injured eye he seemed to have a somewhat steely glint to it.

The previous air of relaxation was gone, the knife like tension from Behemoth was met and accepted by the Demon Hunter. He was curious about her killing other demons, he knew the feral ones did it when no humans were forthcoming but this one was clearly sentient (if fond of cursing) and seemed more intent on provoking him. Either she was confident in herself or she didn't think much of him. Maybe he should have listed off his kills first. She asked for his clothes and wallet and Blank found himself smiling unintentionally, as he slipped a thumb under his eye-patch, the faint glow of red from under it letting his nickname precede him.
"Haha! Clothes and Wallet? Ahhh, sorry, allow me to make a counter offer" taking off the eye-patch let the obviously charged eye shine briefly in the alleyway. It was to Blank's benefit, he didn't know how fast Behemoth was but the alley was pretty narrow and he was standing pretty close. With a tremble of the air the shot launched like a wall of force. It wouldn't tear a hole in her but if she didn't find someway to avoid it it'd certainly hurt like being hit by a truck. The shot touched the sides of the alley, loose stone being ripped free by the vacuum, the only real escape route would be above or below, expecting above, Blank stepped back and kept his eyes alert. The red glare of the soul energy in his cannon meant he couldn't sense Behemoth's presence, did he nail her? He could feel a second shot charging but it'd be a few seconds.

He debated moving outside the alleyway, he liked open space but given how rusty he was he wasn't convinced he could use his old evocations, if he only had cannon then sticking to enclosed space worked for him, he could easily fill a clean line with the blast and it was harder to dodge. He wondered if he should maybe calm down, the eye-poke had set him off but in all fairness, despite her mannerisms, she hadn't made a serious attack at him yet. He pondered what to do next...

((OOC: perfect arena for cannon, bwahahah, I tried to leave room for dodging so it didn't auto-hit though :) ))

"Haha! Clothes and Wallet? Ahhh, sorry, allow me to make a counter offer."

"So long as it's hilarious." Behemoth began, before she looked up. A glowing eye where an eye-patch was before. She had less than a second to react, and she chose to simply grab Inutile and raise it to right in front of the demon hunter's eye. With a great shudder and rumble, the attack sent Behemoth's throne sailing backwards. Loose tarmac was ripped away, the buildings themselves shuddered, and her throne stopped just short of the end of the road. Fortunately the indestructible qualities of the trident-shaped lollipop did its work, and Behemoth was completely unharmed. Her wings acting like sails, the throne rocked backwards as she sat back up, waiting for the throne to land on its feet. As it did, the sound echoed through the silent street.

A crack of the neck, and a clatter of the chelae on her left arm as they slid against one another.

"Fuck you, dude." Behemoth said, her tone more irritated than angry, though she began to march forward again, picking up her jacket off the floor and putting it on. "Fuck you in your rancid arse."

Very suddenly and quickly, she barrelled forward, closing distance fast, before she brought her claw upwards in a huge slash, aiming for the demon hunter's chest. She then stepped into a fencing stance, her claw outreached and her lollipop ready to use if he used that eye cannon again. She began to advance and stab with practised precision and speed, initially aiming for his shoulders, before going for his thighs, then steadying into always erratically and unpredictably changing her target, her pattern impossible to discern.

"Would you just piss off already?!" She snarled through gritted teeth. Two wild swings to his head, before a stab low. "I just want to kick back after a hard day of work and read my book and some castrated cunt with the clap tries to avenge some shit-eating snot-nosed demon hunters who he doesn't even know! Most of them were fucking accidents anyway!" Another wild swing, this one for his stomach, before a stab stopping just an inch away from his neck.

"If you want a fight, go find someone else, I cannot be arsed with this pig-shit!"

Blank wasn't a great judge of personality but he was at least somewhat baffled by the response (though more so by her method to avoid being blasted into the stratosphere, the trident must have split some of the soul energy so the bulk of the blast hit to the side, it was ingenious, if unintentional), why was she angry at him? She quite literally started this, he was only here to parlay and confirm a few minor details, he knew Demons could be unpredictable but this took the cake. The rush and claw swipe were unexpected but the opening move was familiar at least, Blank slid his feet back as the claw swiped up, he felt the blades slice thin lines through his T-shirt. Not a complete rip but enough to say he couldn't half ass it with this one.

The fencing stance was at least a minor pain in his 'rancid arse' as he attempted to adopt a neutral stance for easier dodging, hands low, almost in his pockets. The claw stabs were precise and nimble, Blank's weaving was also partially formulaic at least for the beginning, slipping his shoulders so the tips missed and stepping back to avoid thigh stabbing as the demon advanced. He had a few more slip-ups with the random flurry, a thin line of blood on one fore-arm as he had to block rather than dodge an attack. But even as she attacked she was saying something which held Blank's hand and prevented him from countering. She seemed genuinely upset he'd interrupted her. It was bizarre, but the little details she dropped were interesting. The hunters had been accidental mostly? Did that mean she wasn't actively trying to kill them.

At the stomach swipe, Blank jumped over it, pondering how at this angle he could kick her head relatively easily but even though the intention was visible he didn't do as he landed and stayed nonreactive as she thrust the tip to within an inch of his throat, speaking as soon as she'd finished
"I don't want to fight either, though you could do a better job of not provoking it. I came because I was curious, if you don't want to talk I'll leave." it was no skin of his nose, he wasn't honour-bound to kill EVERY demon he met. He waited dutifully for the tirade of abuse this would garner, pretty confident that he could fire a small shot of his cannon far faster than he could the big ones, fast enough at this range to shoot her in the head if she did try and stab him in the throat. He might die from the throat injury but she'd bite the dust too. It was up to her at this point, was she serious about not fighting?

The demon hunter was certainly good at dodging, Behemoth had to admit to herself. The only odd thing was that he didn't seem to fight back, even when he had the perfect opportunity to kick her in the head. However, when she had finally got him with the tip of her claw to his throat, he spoke.

"I don't want to fight either, though you could do a better job of not provoking it. I came because I was curious, if you don't want to talk I'll leave."

Behemoth bit her bottom lip initially, simply dropping her arm as she stepped away, her eyes almost bugging out, unable to say anything. "I could do a better... I..." The short demon paced back and forth a little, calming herself a little, though her following tirade gave away her frustration.

"FUCK'S SAKE!" The stones rumbled almost as much as they did when the demon hunter had used his eye cannon, while Behemoth was simply preparing for more vulgarity. "Jesus cunting Christ! I'm the one to started it?! Me?! You fucking demon hunters are all the fucking same, nicking people's fucking books and picking fucking fights and then acting the fucking victim when I defend myself, like they're fucking ants fucking screeching as the fucking badger they were crawling on paws at the little fucking fuckers! First guy, the one who wasn't an accident, he thought it'd be fucking funny to fucking pull my fucking shirt up like he fucking owned me, try to cop a fucking feel! Why was he fucking surprised when I ripped his heart out and rammed it up his fucking arse?! I should've taken the lesson, realise that all of you bastards are just gigantic fucking machomen wandering around fucking Inferis presenting great fucking dick measuring contests because they can't fucking get their fucking lives on the fucking surface right!" She began to storm back and forth angrily, her feet slamming into the ground, each stomp harder than the last. Her gaze turned back to the demon hunter.

"Oh, no, don't fucking leave! You better not fucking leave, you've got me fucking going now! Because remember, I started this shit. You wanted to answers, you're fucking gonna fucking get some fucking answers!" She said, her claw pointed straight to his face, though now more accusing than aggressive. "Maybe it'd finally smack some fucking sense into you! I don't usually get this worked up but BY LUCIFER'S FUCKING PUBIC LICE you gits rub me the wrong way some times! I was fucking cheering when the next one drowned! He was a right twat, stupidest cunt I've ever fucking worked for! He tried to fucking swim to the Spirelands! I didn't stop him, though, oooooooh fuck no, I was a fucking demon, 'fucking untrustworthy' he called me! Bet he fucking wished he trusted me about the fucking iron serpents!" Her only hand gripped tightly onto one of her horns, her frustration rising.

"Yeah, you're always fucking picking fights with demons who don't want to fight, or demons who you shouldn't fucking fight at all! Even when you get it right, none of you can avoid fucking damaging somebody else's shit! Not so much a bull in a china shop, more like two bulls fucking each other's arses with china fucking condoms, while fucking rodeo cowboys ride them around, swinging cats by their fucking tails in a cunting wind tunnel, with china plates getting flung down it at 90,000 fucking miles per fucking hour! Do you not think it'd be timely to check who you're fighting? Jesus' fucking non-existent cunt, do I need to slap fucking badges on everyone so you know when to start blasting?! A big tick on one person, a cross on someone else?! Are you all so fucking dense?! No, wait, my fucking mistake, couldn't do that, that'd be too bloody confusing; you'd see the cross and go 'oh, X marks the fucking spot, better see if I can't kill the 50 ton monstrosity who's already frustrated because of his catastrophic fucking erectile dysfunction!' By of the fucking archdemons and their various circles you guys are either insane or stupid, but you're all alike in that you're fucking useless!" After letting everything in her throat out she simply slumped back into her makeshift throne, inhaling and exhaling rapidly, before her eyebrows began to stop furrowing, and rise once more, the anger seeping away.

"Ok, I'll admit it, that actually felt pretty good." She said softly, her mood shifting almost immediately, giving Inutile a long lick before pointing it to the demon hunter. "Go on, it's strawberry."

((OOC: Behemoth says the word 'fuck' or variations of such 57 times in this post. Hope Blank isn't too shocked XP ))

There was probably a not small amount of irony in Blank's calmly accepting the quite thorough tongue lashing that Behemoth was doling out. For all Devil Hunters being the same he seemed to be doing well in bucking the trend. He did have a few observations at the beginning as she seemed to believe him an aggressor for things like catching the book she threw at him (it would have been dumb to simply hand that over) or him reacting to an eye-poke (given the patch you'd think she'd know that'd provoke him a tad) but he didn't say anything, he felt this rant may have been a long time coming.

He did observe though, and paid attention to the stories she was telling. He couldn't fault her, for the most part, assuming (possibly foolishly) that she was telling the truth, he couldn't judge her for her actions. Death by ignoring was hardly something he could hold her responsible for. He kept his cool the whole through as the alley practically shook with profanity, he could swear the bricks themselves began to turn red from the blushing they were experiencing. As she took several steadying breaths, a load seemed to have been lifted. Who knew Demons had such stressful work lives, he almost felt bad for asking her but weirdly pleased he'd made her day better. As a peace-offering she offered her... weapon. It's a lollypop. She split your cannon with a lollypop. Well, that was always a good sign you were out of practice. He did, however smile at the offering

"No thanks, but I appreciate the offer" Blank wasn't really sure what to make of this, at the very least he didn't see a reason to start trouble with her. She may be foul-mouthed and more than a little prone to provoking a fight but she didn't seem genuinely malicious maybe just... unaware of how to play well with humans. He wasn't relaxed exactly but he did slide his eye-patch down again, holstering the cannon as it was. He could still fire it, but he saw no reason to let her know that.
"I can't speak for all Hunters, but I like to know why I'm fighting someone. Demons are made of evil spirits but that doesn't mean you're any worse than the humans still alive and I don't kill them on sight either. At the very least, I don't want to fight you. I'm mildly curious about a 50 ton monstrosity requiring an erection, and more than a little worried where it's aimed, but I'm assuming it was a made-up example" ugh, he hated talking, talking was so time consuming and difficult and if you spoke out of turn the person got pissed and he just didn't want to deal with that. Hopefully, since they were on decent-ish terms he could maybe talk to her about who, in her opinion, DID need killing, if just so he could compare it to his own list.

"No thanks, but I appreciate the offer"

"Suit yourself." Behemoth said, before giving Inutile another long lick. The demon hunter seemed a little more passive than before, with Behemoth simply indulging in her strawberry treat.

"I can't speak for all Hunters, but I like to know why I'm fighting someone." Behemoth looked up curiously. He was still here? Demons are made of evil spirits but that doesn't mean you're any worse than the humans still alive and I don't kill them on sight either. At the very least, I don't want to fight you. I'm mildly curious about a 50 ton monstrosity requiring an erection, and more than a little worried where it's aimed, but I'm assuming it was a made-up example."

"If believing that keeps you happy, it's probably for the best." Behemoth said, before looking around the street. "So, why did you go looking for me specifically? Sure, there are plenty of demons afraid of me, but that's only because of the rotten luck that I seem to bring around. Some of them even think I'm cursed! Ha!"

Blank's usually unexpressive face looked glazed over with horror as Behemoth all but confirmed she hadn't made it up and his imagination struggled with this new reality he found himself uncomfortably aware of. She seemed a lot calmer now, he wondered if maybe his means of approach had given the wrong impression, maybe he was more intimidating than he gave himself credit. He tapped his chin idly until he noticed she was asking him a fairly relevant question: Why had he gone looking for her? He pondered trying to tell a pleasant lie about how he'd heard tales of her strength, how he was hunting down powerful demons but seeing her peaceful ways had changed his mind. But because this is Blank he opted for honesty as the best policy

"I heard some demons shouting about 'Behemoth' and it sounded like a strong name. A few were saying they didn't want to die. I'd heard the name before but it was always 'people' died rather than human or demon so I didn't know if you were a champion of human slaying or a demon-devouring cannibal. Or, as it turns out, neither. That must be some luck you have..." Blank scratched his head at the idea of luck SO BAD it was almost a physical force to the Demons. He wondered if he should just go, he'd been something of a nuisance to Behemoth here. Well... he may as well be well-mannered
"My name's Blank. The demons in the Necropolis usually call me Devil-Eye. I don't know if you've heard it before. It was nice meeting you" Blank gave a friendly salute before he turned and began walking calmly away from the demon. He still had his guard up, of course, but it wasn't the guard of someone expecting a back attack. Looks like he practiced what he preached...