Bailey Cunningham | Aim

This is Aim's 'How's my driving post'. If you have questions, concerns, would like to offer criticism regarding his characterisation, or want to plot, feel free to contact me via IM/Email (info can be found on the profile page) or leave a comment here.

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(( During the Highways Incident ))

One might think that with how often Aim slips away from his duties, that Hell is the last place he want to be. But that's not true. Hell is home in a manner of speaking as is the topside world. There is one place here, however, that he truly despises and abhors. It would never cross his mind to go there and yet here he is.

Sitting at the bar of Lucifer's very own Lux in Los Angeles, the demon is ordering drink after drink, knocking each one back with purpose and not once does he even feel tempted to glance at the piano. The itch in his fingertips grows stronger.

'You lied. I believed in you and you...'

[Voicemail left for Berith and Belphegor]
At Lucifer's lair... I don't know how... but I want to... Help?

Minions. Mouthy minions. Talking too fast to make any sense and that's one sure way to end up as a pile of ash. However, even those piles of ash seem to be mouthing off which should be impossible, but that's Hell-pondlife for you. Two minutes later, another minion pops up. This one, though, doesn't waste any breath on words - couldn't if it wanted to because it's 2IC. Just grabs the wayward, unwilling King and drags him home. Once there, the demon slaps his lord and master's suit of armour on the slender frame, points at the harnessed Viper and signals 'trouble; big trouble at the northern borders'.

As far as 2IC is concerned, it's Aim's duty to clean up whatever trash decides to spill over the borders of their much too vast territories. It's the stupid King of the Fabulous Hair's dominion now and since the stupid King is the one who claimed all that shit, he might as well make an effort to keep it tidy. Because 2IC won't lift a finger unless their original piece of wasteland is threatened. Everything else, his dumbass majesty can take care of himself.

[Belphegor]
Sending the doom crickets was completely uncalled for! Thanksgiving, food and drinks on me, at Berith's humble abode. Bring your own pants, though. His Grace Duke Berith refuses to share his clothing.

[Aim isn't too happy about being sat on by a several hundred pounds heavy beast and having to inhale the fumes it has for breath, while Berith bitches, making him feel like a worthless piece of shit like only Berith can, but there is one thing that continues to puzzle him even after the hellhound has taken off again.]

Have they always been this big? I've never seen one that big!

In addition to this ad, another two appear in different newspapers. With Satan raging through the remains of Hell like a mad bull, Aim is not in a particular hurry to get rid of the broken crown. Nobody wants to go home while Big Daddy is there, after all.


Ministers, We have an idea!


[Berith]
The grumpy yet inexplicably sweet and deliriously dulcet sound of voice, sunshine, I miss it so~

In the classifieds sections of a Texan newspaper, a curious ad appears which doesn't make any sense if you're not one of Hell's own.

For sale: 1 prong.

You never call anymore, Mams. What's the matter, old girl? Surely, arthritis wouldn't dare getting cosy with your grabby little hands?

Zepar's messengers are always welcome, only this time they are welcomed by the Viper... which is more than happy to return them. Carrying the legionnaires in its belly, it slithers up to the Party Duke, obviously happy to see him and curls up at his feet for a nap.

( Delivered to Belial )

( Delivered to Belphegor )

( Delivered to Berith & Zepar )

( 1Sentence )

It's just a chair and not even a very good one. Missed the grand Vegas show, missed... No, that's it.

Starting the clock again.

Listen carefully and you'll hear it hiss. Sand is shifting, turning wet with blood. Still, nothing will grow here.

Wake me up before you go, sunshine~

Off to see the wizard~

Before he vanishes, Aim leaves a pile of chocolate gold coins on Kane's kitchen counter as a symbolic gesture. However, one of the bags contains real gold coins.

Never thought their kind needed day jobs. Never thought much about them at all actually.

Apparently, I've picked an artist who has an obsession with butterflies and who doesn't sell his work, judging from the all the paintings cluttering what little extra space this extra-small place has. Wonder what they're worth...

How are my King Peen and my Permanently Pantsless Wonderboy~?

[OOC: Private notes by Aim's second-in-command]

The winged pest defeated my duke. We have lost all territories and are returning to the world below.

We will be taking 543 souls with us. It was not a complete loss.

He will not be pleased if when he regains consciousness.

Now that was an unexpected development of events. Unpleasant? Maybe - maybe not. We'll see. Going underground for educational purposes.

Uphir, sunshine of my life, I might have to impose on your time in a couple of days~

[Desmond]
I suggest setting up a couple of protective measures once your little gems return. Guards maybe? The prize on your head is rather impressive and not everyone is as indifferent towards orders from below as I am.

[Private]
SD 100%
MN 100%
NE 93%
WY 75%

Found the perfect location for tomorrow night. Would you like to be picked up or are you two able to move on your own again?

[Private]
MN 97%
NE 86%
WY 51%

I have no idea what this means. Should these letters and numbers mean anything to me? I think he's depressed. He hasn't been depressed since 456AD and that is... so cute. If he keeps that up, he can take them all back down.

One of them made a 'flag'. It's not very flag-like but...

What am I doing?

[OOC: Private notes by Aim's second-in-command]

MN 87%
NE 71%
WY 32%

Taking three at once and guarding the one we already occupied with only the Fifth is tiresome. His Grace refuses to pull up the Third, though.

Why? What purpose does having it on stand-by serve? Other than driving me insane.

Back to... whatever. Missing a bunch of the small ones or maybe they didn't come with us. I'm sure I saw them around, though. 2IC is suspiciously quiet. Something's up.

Oh, this pizza tastes like strawberries, no, chocolate, pears... peach pie?

Berith, what on earth did you put into that turkey?

Belphegor, that tie was definitely mine. I know because mine is gone. What do you need two ties for anyway?

Pretty duke~, some of yours dragged some of my laundry lackeys back down. I'd like them back at your earliest convenience.

If anyone plans on travelling to South Dakota for whatever reasons, hand in your visa applications here.