Two

He was due a purification anyway, so Weft allowed himself a brief flicker of evil satisfaction.

Then he settled himself into classic gargoyle stake-out mode, unmoving. He could hold such a position, completely immobile and scarcely breathing, for forty-eight hours at a stretch.

Most of the others could go much longer. It made his professional pride sting, sometimes.

---

"Nice teeth," Baskerville called admiringly after the wuff. A professional acknowledgement, from one expert to another.

Suitov professed disinterest in anything outside his manuscript.

A board fell off the wall, revealing a surprised redhead. "I didn't think it would fall right off," Jaina said bemusedly.

A glance around the room didn't turn up anyone she knew well. Jaina had been just sure she'd heard Lance, but the angel had (unknown to her) fled the premises before she entered.

Wait, there was someone. "Ba-- uh, Baskerville?" she asked hesitantly. "Is that you? Who's in charge around here; do you know?"

With all the commotion that had taken place in the inn so far, noone had seen the two little reptiles sneaking in under a loose board. They would have remained completely unnoticed, had not one of them suddenly sneezed loudly and blown a large cloud of dust off the floor as he did so, causing him to sneeze even more.

Izzy quickly handed Micah a tissue and cast a glance around the room, hoping they hadn't interrupted something important. In truth she was a little scared; she'd come pretty close to being completely squashed when the wolf had started bounding around and she suddenly noticed, as she gazed upwards, how much bigger everyone else was. This could be dangerous.

Micah was more concerned with the fact he was running out of tissue space and he was still_sneezing_dammit!

Righto.

Carnil was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and he was liking neither. So he ran back out, bowled over the insane girl-woman and shifted. Elf-shaped Carnil dressed.

"Thanks!" he yelled back, absently. "I keep 'em keen on raw bones!"

Right! Dressed? Check! Pack? Check! Armed? "Checked!" Carnil held out his me'rah, and it slid out into a long pole with a very pointy end.

"Say, mate," he addressed the vaguely cool-looking guy in the leather jacket. "Don't suppose you've got heavy liquer 'round here, eh?"

"If you want to finish your conversation, why don't you just fly up after him?" Lucifer was asking Lance politely.

"Because it's not that critical," Lance mumbled in reply, turning on his heel and making to head back into the run-down old building. "Besides, in case you haven't noticed, there's something not right about this area. I'd rather keep my wings out of sight for now, thank you."

"Oh, that," Lucifer said, knowingly.

Lance paused, and turned around.

"What, THAT!?" He screeched.

~~~

Amber sat on the floor and blinked.

Did the ever so cute puppy just turn into a bishie? An...elf bishie? Did that cute puppy just turn into a bishie elf?

"OH MY GOD, THAT ADORABLY CUTE PUPPY TURNED INTO A BISHIE ELF!"

Carnil was in for it, now.

~~~

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN THIS AREA IS RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF A LIMBO!?"

Lance was doing his very best impression of a psychotic chicken; flapping his arms and screeching in Lucifer's face. Lucifer, to his credit, was remaining quite calm.

"Oh, calm yourself, Lance," he said, sounding almost amused.

"Calm!? Calm!? I can't be calm! What the hell are you on about? Are you telling me this--"

"This area is in a rather unusual location. Very transRealm. Not to mention the curses and all. Of course it eventually evolved into a limbo! Didn't they teach you anything in Heaven, Lance?"

"You tell me! You were there longer than I was!" Lance spat.

"That was a little harsh," Lucifer replied with a bland smile.

"Well it certainly explains why YOU'RE here, anyway!" Lance growled.

"Of course," Lucifer replied, adjusting his gloves. "I came to make sure any leftover demon spirits weren't going to cause trouble to the new Inn. There are, of course, leftovers from most species, angels included. Some of those were embedded here even before I left Heaven--it makes me feel so terribly young."

Lance snorted.

"Besides, I've been noting your soul hanging around a few others lately. Finally ditch your little dengel and vampire, did you?"

Lance swore at Lucifer. "Leave them out of this. And stop stalking me."

"Of course," Lucifer replied with a tilt of his head. "So, who are these people you're seeing a lot of lately? I suppose that twiggy little monk is one of them? You two seem...friendly."

"If you weren't the King of Hell and all, I'd slap you for that," Lance deadpanned.

"Depending on which bodypart you had in mind, I might let you," Lucifer replied with a smirk.

''Micah, maybe we should get out of here'', Izzy whispered to her brother.

Micah sneezed again, causing his whole body to shake. ''I don't care what we dno'', he mummbled, ''as londg as mby dose... atchooo!'' He blew his nose again loudly. It sounded more like a fog horn than a little reptile sounding his nostrils.

Izzy became very worried. Her brother wasn't usually this bad with dust. The only things that provoked this sort of reaction from his immune system were dogs, and she couldn't see any of those. She though perhaps it was the wolf, but noticed that he wasn't here any more. Micah sneezed again, and she heard a wheezing gurgle from his lungs.

Panicking, Izzy glanced around and saw an old bottle lying behind the bar. The neck was just wide enough to squeeze through and the insides were, thankfully, not coated in dust. She pushed him towards the bottle, forced him through the entrance (''Really, Micah, I didn't know you'd gotten so much wider'' ''It's dnot bmy fault if I'mb to ill to dnexercise'') and handed him another tissue.

Micah recovered a little, his eyes stopped watering and he realised where he was. Irritated and more than a little humiliated, he began to complain and made towards the bottle-neck.

''Stay where you are'', Izzy said, and nodded towards the tissue, ''That's my last one.''

Baskerville perked up. "You kidding? There are all kinds of bottles left over here." The writing on the labels was long gone, true, but who was averse to a little adventure?

The geeky-looking male looked over at Micah and Izzy with characteristic new-species fascination.

Baskerville leaned gingerly over the bar - he of all people knew how fragile it was, you do not trust a human-shaped hellhound with your HSS detail - and brandished a dark red glass bottle at Carnil. This had no label at all.

Apologies for lack of carriage returns on evil keyboard... [[Switched each "//" for returns.]] Thank you! *pounce*

Carnil scurried over and grabbed the bottle. "Thanks, mate, yer a life saver." It needn't be stated that the elf meant that quite literally. Keeping the girl-monster at bay, he pulled the cork out with his teeth and took a swig. Score! A heart breaker!

He grinned.

"Hey little girl, do you want some strawberry milkshake? It's nice and sweet!" It was also of the alchoholic variety, but that also didn't have to be stated.

Jaina shot Carnil a wry look. "You'd better mean that thing on the floor, not me," she informed him in all-too-pleasant a tone. After a moment's deliberation, she grunted and jumped the bar to explore the stores. She emerged minutes later, rum in one hand, cola in the other, and a glass of questionable cleanliness twirling on her thumb.

Jaina waited a second for someone to stop her. Old habits of raiding bars die hard, though, even when surrounded by people of unfamiliar appearance. Besides, one chap had already ignored a direct query -- she must have mistaken in thinking she knew him -- so she felt securely beneath notice.

"I do! I do! I do believe in fairies!"

Carnil grinned in a somewhat manic manner. He didn't deal well with female-related stress.

"Also, I meant that awfully sweet thing on the floor." He shook the bottle at the wee thing. "Yummy yummy!"

Amber, fortunately, was not intelligent enough to realize she was being condescended to.

"OH MY GOSH, ARE YOU OFFERING ME A DRINK!?" She squealed, latching herself around Carnil's neck and sparkling at him with ten-strength.

Izzy had climbed to the top of the bar, which felt a little unstable, but could surely hold her tiny weight.

Micah had finally stopped sneezing and took a moment to look around through the blue-green glass.

His bottle was resting on a shelf behind the bar, kept only from rolling right off by a dark red bottle, half full of something that smelt very sweet.

The room was occupied by rather curious specimens. He could see Baskerville clearly, but, due to the distortion caused by curve of the bottle and the fact that his eyes were a little blurry (he'd found a little puddle of yummy liquid which he'd completely lapped up by this point), it took him a while to realise that the red bottle had disappeared and his own vessel was slowly rolling towards the edge of the shelf.

He jumped to his feet and scrambled towards the bottle-neck, slipping as the surfaces spun around him. He reached the exit but, as before, got stuck half way through.

By this time, the bottle had picked up some speed and was racing down the slope of the shelf.

His tail thrashed wildly inside the bottle as he tried to squirm his considerable gut through the opening. Looking up, he spied his sister.

''Help!'', he screamed, his little legs flapping hysterically. ''Izzyyyyyyyyyyy!!!''

Izzy turned just in time to see the bottle reach the end of the shelf, launch into the air, hang there as if suspended for a few brief seconds and hurtle towards the floor, landing with a loud smash.

Baskerville let out a loud cheer. This was high comedy! Hunkering down, he informed the reptile "You should be on the stage, mate."

One greasy, gamer-looking chap finally noticed Jaina indulging in a spot of bar-raiding. "Hi," he said. "Drinks're - oh, it's Jaina, isn't it? On the house."

He pushed his relatively newly-acquired glasses up his nose, and added to the room at large, "We're not open yet, and I've no idea how you lot found this place, since we're not even advertising, but whatever. We don't have anything in. If you brave the existing stores we won't be responsible, though. My associate here is tending bar."

Bask looked up at him. "I am?"

"You are." The disguised Suitov went back to the conduit-clearing he was doing under cover of reading a Wet Wolf goryteller's handbook.

''Say, mate, if you're tending the bar, how about getting me some more of whatever was in there?'' Micah said to Baskerville, licking his 'lips' and pointing with a clawed foot towards the tinkle-splintered glass behind him, wobbling precariously as he did so.

"Uh, yeah, I'm Jaina," said the puzzled redhead. "How do you know that? I thought I was keeping a low profile. Guess not.

"And I don't know how I ended up here. Lots of times I try to go someplace with a touch of bad magic, and I end up at something completely different. At least this time there are no llamas in sight."

Somehow Carnil managed to juggle girl, bottle and weapon without killing anyone with his me'rah. He dropped it just to be safe.

"Yes! You'll love it! Now drink!" He stuck the bottle into her mouth.

"The limbo isn't the only thing around here, of course," Lucifer was saying, while Lance ignored him and walked back towards the building. Lucifer tagged along like a well-bred puppy.

"There are a variety of curses and things hanging around as well. But I've little interest in those, you see. I'm just here for the spirits."

"Of the soul variety or the alcoholic variety?" Lance mumbled with irritation.

"I have a decent tolerance for both," Lucifer replied as the two stepped back into the Inn.

~~~

Amber had swallowed a mouthful of the alcohol before she knew what had happened.

Amber was not equipped to deal with alcohol.

That "THUD!!!" was the sound of Amber passing out on the floor.

~~~

"Oh," Lucifer said blandly, gesturing towards the unconscious Amber, "Isn't that your little stalker?"

"Aw, hell," Lance muttered.

"I'm currently hiding from certain evil undead creatures," Suitov said, "but I'm--"

His attention was distracted at this crucial juncture by Lucifer's entrance.

Carnil remained oblivious.

"Well!" he said cheerfully. He gently set the young lady to the floor, and picked up his weapon. The me'rah was already sliding into its inert form as the elf reached for it. Carnil hooked it to his belt. He hummed a happy little tune as he walked jauntily to Leather Jacket. "Something 120 proof, mate, if you can find one. I feel like celebrating."

Carnil found a few loose coins in his pocket and dropped them on the bar. They gleamed.

Something went poof in the attic.

As could be predicted, poof was followed by oh, not agaaaaaaaaarghCRASHTHUDJINGLEFLOP.

Well, almost. Something like that, anyway.

Sebastian was semi-reclined upside down in the middle of a pile of junk, his legs resting on a crate while his head and upper torso were leaning against the floor. His eyes were pearly with water: a crowbar was hung from a nail higher in the roof, and just as he might have guessed, it was just above him and looked to be ready to fall any moment now.

Otherwise, the situation would have been quite hilarious.

His hat said jingle. In hindsight, the king of fools ought to have reconsidered a few times before stea-- BORROWING a court jester's costume, as the bloody hat made him sound like Yule Day on two legs. The fact that he looked absolutely ridiculous was another con, but on the other hand, he quite fancied the pants.

(Whatever this said of Sebastian's character was best left unsaid.)

The half-elf, too busy staring upwards (nicecrowbarpleasedonotfall) had all but forgotten that he still had his loot with him. A platinum sceptre, courtesy of a king. And the gits didn't even know what it was for... idiots. Though he had to admit, he hadn't expected it to transport him here. Wherever 'here' was.

"Oh ----ing..."

Something heavy could be heard falling on the attic floor.