"Bloody hell."
Another wave of nausea hit as he hunched over the lake. If I ever get tempted to drink again, so help me...
He puked.
"Ugh..." Azazel stayed in his current position, imagining fish becoming drunk from his vomit.
Of course, he knew better than to down nearly two bottles of wine, but when the woman he finds most alluring attempted to get him drunk, could he say no?
Another wave.
I will most definitely say no next time.
As the demon was wallowing in his self-pity, George was already up, preparing for the trip to Serdona. He had almost completed preparations, with Granny observing his every move.
Granny had unlocked the cottage finally, so Emma made it back inside. She seemed to have woken up before Azazel removed himself from the ground. It was rather difficult for him to get up after the booze left his system. He vaguely remembered her trying to get him up, but he was unsure.
I nearly got laid, but instead I was dead on my ass.
He felt as if the opportunity would never so easily present itself again. A drowning was becoming more appealing by the second.
More waves.
I am a vomit machine. Add it to the resume.
Natasha had walked by when she went to collect some wood for her next project, but for once, she decided not to approach Azazel. She didn't want to get trapped between a body of water and what spewed out of his mouth.
Meanwhile, Zeus and his band of undead orcs were fast at work on a trio of cabins, so Britannica had more beds for its locals as the population would continue to grow. They already had plans to build more once the first round was completed.
But to the demon, nothing really mattered, because he couldn't stop blowing chunks into the large body of water.
More. Would it ever end?
When Azazel was mostly confident he wouldn't just spread more stomach contents on the ground, he hobbled from the lake to the carriage. He flopped his body into the back with the supplies. His head was limp as he lay in there with his eyes closed, masking the sun's rays with his arm. His head was pounding something fierce.
Why is everything so bright in the morning?
George stood there for a moment, staring at the demon, before shrugging and climbing on the bench up front.
I think a slab of metal is poking me in the ribs.
He flinched.
It is most definitely poking me in the ribs.
"Have a safe trip, George," Granny said as she pecked the top of the hulk's head.
"...."
George nodded at his tiny grandma.
As Azazel felt movement, he thought he would end up puking again. He was not ready for this. He thought about asking to postpone the trip for a day, but he decided that between last night and that possibility, there would be nothing left on his manliness scale.
Of course, what mattered most was growing the kingdom. I will tough this out.
It seemed like hours had passed when he finally decided to roll over and adjust the position of his head. When he did so, he felt something soft underneath him.
"Mm..." He mumbled.
Azazel shifted his hand and placed it on the soft object beneath him. He couldn't tell what it was. He ran his fingers up under some fabric, which was probably protecting precious metals.
This feels rather interesting.
He heard a faint laugh. It was a soft laugh. It definitely wasn't George.
Azazel's eyes shot open. He looked up to see Emma. It wasn't a pillow.
He left his hand there.
"It's okay," she said, petting his head.
He remained silent. It may have been for the best, as he would just end up fumbling his words.
Azazel sighed, and then it hit him. His head was on her lap, and his hand was under her skirt. He smirked mischievously, moving two fingers up her thighs.
"Stop."
"Okay," he muttered. He moved his fingers back. I should not push my luck.
"Why are you here?" Azazel asked her curiously.
"I didn't want to leave you in such a pathetic state," she grinned. "And until Zeus has his own cabin, I really don't want to be home right now. I think Grandma proved she can take care of herself."
"Understandable."
I wouldn't want to be alone in that cottage either tonight. Imagine the things one would have their ears assaulted by.
Azazel quickly shot up, hunching over the side of the cart.
Another random wave.
"This is embarrassing," he said as he slid back down into the cart.
The manly meter was completely shattered at that point.
"Sorry," Emma said in his direction. "It is my fault."
"I could have said no," Azazel responded.
He folded his arms against his chest. He glanced at Emma. She glanced back. He gave her another glance. So did she. Again.
It kept happening.
His heart started beating rapidly.
Azazel allowed himself to make one bold move per day. He leaned forward, attempting to kiss her. He was quickly pushed away by small arms.
"You smell gross."
"At least you are honest," he snickered.
She frowned.
He frowned.
They both laughed.
"This is better anyway," she smiled.
"Is it?"
"It is!" She beamed. "I can make sure you don't say anything stupid to anyone important. We both know George won't speak up."
"...."
George looked back at her, then looked forward again.
Emma pondered for a moment, seemingly lost in thought.
I wish I could tell what women were thinking.
Obviously, he had always been terrible at that. It was how he died in the first place. Maybe if he hadn't married that woman, he wouldn't have died.
I wouldn't be here, though. I do have some sick necromancy skills. Speaking of which, I haven't checked on them in a while...
Azazel dug in his pocket and took out the ball, shaking it. The deer, bunny, and a random orc appeared, all in increasingly decomposed states.
"Why did you do that?"
"Curiosity. Now, I don't smell as bad."
"You still smell bad, just now as terrible as them," Emma noted.
"I forgot to give Zeus back one of his orcs," he chucked as the orc went and sat by George.
George didn't look amused.
"What even is that ball?"
"Oh, this?" Azazel motioned at the ball. "A corpse container. Or rather, one of the two things I came here with."
Emma tilted her head. "How did you bring it here?"
"I grabbed it before I died. I think I was searching for a non-existent weapon." He chuckled.
"A toy?"
"Yeah, it doesn't actually do anything."
Emma was amused. She had learned a lot since last night.
"What was your name back then?"
Azazel may have sweated a little at that question. "You don't want to know."
She frowned.
"Seriously."
I don't want to tell her my real name, for I and her brother share one. That would be something. And she may even start calling me by it.
Emma was grinning.
She would definitely call me by it.
Azazel watched as the deer jumped off the front of their cart, getting trampled by horse hooves and the wheels of the cart. He was sure the deer had no fighting chance against the enemy it faced.
"Goodbye, sweet deer!" Emma waved.
She kind of has a sick sense of humor.
Azazel smirked.
"What?"
"Nothing, my kitten, just admiring your charms," he said, pleased.
He looked toward the back of the cart, noticing the deer in several chunks on the dirt road. He could smell the scent of its death from his current position.
That deer is definitely not coming back.
Emma reached over and grabbed the BokeBall. She shook it, watching the undead disappear.
"I was getting sick of smelling them," she admitted.
She handed the ball back.
Azazel placed it back in his pocket and noticed his MP3 player. He handed it to her.
Emma inspected it and then held it up. "What is this?"
"May I? He asked. When she nodded, he leaned forward, putting an earbud in her ear.
"Press the front," he instructed.
She did as instructed, and her eyes went wide. She turned her head toward him slowly, as if she had been possessed by a demon. Well, literally possessed by a demon.
Azazel took it back and placed the bud in his ear, realizing why she had such a reaction.
I really shouldn't have Maximum the Hormone playing on full blast for her first introduction to modern music.
He flipped through the music and found an orchestra piece, which would be a bit easier to digest.
Azazel handed it back. She reluctantly put the bud back in her ear, but smiled when she heard it wasn't the devil himself singing his lullaby any longer.
"That's better," she nodded.
It must have been, because she left it in for awhile while the demon rested his eyes.