Scribbles and Drabbles

Notebook Drabbles 18 - 2

The conceige pushed Deven into the hands of the attendants before bowing out to perform his other duties. 

The baths reminded Devon of Japanese onsens. Group bathing with an area to wash off any outside dirt before entering hot, steamy water to rest and recover. Human souls reformed in the chapel before imp attendants gathered them up to be cared for and made whole again. Chest cold and aching, Devon let himself be towed with the other souls to the showers to be feasted on. The attendants didn't eat flesh; they consumed stress from skin contact. 

Recently consumed souls tended to be stressed.

Devon doubted he made a good meal while numbed out, but that didn't stop the attendants from doing their job. They stripped his clothes and wiped him down. Hot water rolled over him as they rinsed him off, and a towel wiped the sweat and dirt off his body.

He tried to take over, but his hands got slapped away as the demon focused on cleaning him. A second tackled his hair with a shampoo that smelled of melon.

Strong smells helped pull people out of dissociation.

He wasn't. His chest thumped slow, and his toes iced over, but he felt everything. The hot heat of the demons as they pressed against him, the soft wipe of the cloth, the gentle scratches of nails against his skin; he existed in the space.

Honestly, it was nice. More of himself returned as the heat sank into his bones and filled the hollowness of his chest. Despite the humidity, it was easier to breathe.

A bowl of water rinsed him off.

"All done," the demon declared, voice soft and gentle." To the baths."

Devon nodded, dizzy as he stood. Arms caught and cradled him with fond chuckles. They spirited him over to the bath, and the warmth engulfed him. One of the bath imps grasped him and sat Devon between his legs, rubbing his shoulders.

Maybe he was hazy. It was easy to relax into it. People chattered, their voices soft and low. Recovery time meant nothing too exciting. Some people were more sensitive than others, and one sob could trigger many more. As much as some demons enjoyed that, it didn't help endear them to their prey. They wanted the souls to trust them. It made them sweeter. Not to mention, the demons liked being trusted.

It took a familiar, indignant shriek to pull him out of the haze. His imping appeared, human ignoring the extra appendages, and headed straight for him. Hands grabbed at him to stop the imp from entering the water without bathing. It dodged them.

Black hair curled around his face, and his eyes remained the same vibrant red, the impling had a young appearance. Not quite a child, but not yet a teenager either. His tail shone an imp red while his horns were an oxyn black. It made a strange image.

Devon stood, ignoring the protests of the demons feeding to catch the beast before he got upset. The impling clung to him, his tail curling around him tightly. The other imps cooed at the sight, a hand or two reaching out to pet him. The imp snapped at the hands and tucked its head under Devon's chin, content in Devon's arms.

"Easy," Devon said, stepping out of the bath to move to the showers. His impling wasn't small, but he didn't weigh much.

Again, hands took over. Or tried to, as much as they wanted to bond with one of their young, he wanted none of that. Van snapped his fangs at them and slapped his tail in a dance Devon didn't understand. The imps cooed over him, and Van huffed.

"Devon," Van yawned, pulling Devon's hands to clean his hair. 

"Yes, darling," Devon said, obeying the numbness in his chest, which turned into warm fondness. Van was a bossy thing sometimes.