Family issues

A wet, bloodstained jacket was thrown carelessly to the ground, before its owner steadily sank into a chair. “Home sweet home...” the demon sighed, loosening his tie and smiling in relief. Students were getting harder and harder to find, and they got more and more stubborn with each century. Or that was what he claimed. The truth is, Voltaire was simply getting older.  He may have been immortal at some point, but ever since his soul had bonded with the watch he was gradually aging; Those last hundred and fifty years have particularly worn him down.  

Bowler hat lazily tilted over his drooping eyes, he sat there mulling over the past events, occasionally letting out an amused chuckle, until he started to drift off to sleep. He was just about to enter a deep slumber…

Unfortunately he was interrupted by a sudden crash from the next room.

“What in the world..?” he soon got off the chair, grabbing his cane and silently heading to the room. He slowly creaked the door open.

Piles of books have fallen down in a heap; several vials of precious and rare potion ingredients lay broken on the floor. Voltaire tsked at the mess in disapproval. He would have to clean this mess later. His interest however was soon caught by a man dusting off a long muddy brown coat while muttering… colourful language.

A very familiar man.

“Oh no…”

The other man looked up at him with a mischievous grin. “Tha’ any way to treat family? Woulda thought better of ya, Volty.”

The older man was rubbing his temple in exasperation, before looking up at the new arrival with a forced smile. “What brings you here, my… ahem… dear cousin?”

But the black haired man wasn’t paying attention; He was too busy looking around the small study, letting out a long whistle in the process. “Got yerself one hell of a place there eh?”

“Devon.”

“I wonder if ya wouldn’mind  I borrowed some of thes-“

“Devon.”

“ Righ’ righ’… well.. I’m sorta in a bit of a pickle here… ”

Voltaire’s smile suddenly widened maliciously. “You wouldn’t perhaps be asking me to teach a lesson to someone would you? I have been having a rather slow business.”

“wha’..?” Devon looked in confusion, before realising what Voltaire had really meant. “Oh no, no, nothin’ like that!”

“Well then, what is it?”

“Well… remember that ol’ club I manage?”

Voltaire nodded. “Yes, yes… ’The Hell hole’, was it?” he leaned on his cane. “What of it?”

“Umm…and… ya know I have a weak spot for gamblin’, righ’?”

He smirked. “I remember you were not incredibly good at it either.”

Devon shot him a scowl before continuing. “Anyway… I was with the fellas and we was playin’ a round of cards… I was losin’… And filthy drunk ‘course... ”

“Of course. Go on.”

“I had nothing’ left to bet.. And I.. uh..”

“Yes..?”

The gambler shifted around and nervously scratched his head. “I had the deed to the place... And well… ya know…”

There was a few moments silence. Suddenly Voltaire roared loudly in laughter, causing the poor man to jump in shock. “You… you lost your.. Your club?” he managed to gasp between laughs.

“Er… yes.”

He once again burst out laughing, wiping tears from his eyes and holding on to his cane with all his might to keep himself from falling.

“So I’m stayin’ with ya.”

And everything went quiet.

“What?” Voltaire managed to say through a stiff smile, his pupils turning to slits.

“Errm…” he backed away. “I ‘ave to stay somewhere…righ’? and I though’ ‘Ol Volty wouldn' mind helpin his lil cousin Danny, we’re family‘…”

Voltaire just stared at him with the same blank smile, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.

“…Volty? Voltaire?”

“No.”

The raven haired man looked at him in shock. “Wha?!! Bu-”

“No. Get out. You are nothing but a nuisance.”

After a few moments of gaping at him like some helpless fish,  Danny started walking over to his cousin with an unexpected sneer. Being considerably shorter than the hatted man, he stared up to him. “Now now… ya wouldn’ want somethin’… bad  to happen to ya would ya?”

Voltaire scoffed. “You know very well I cannot be killed. Least of all by you.”

A sly smile crept onto his lips. “Oh really? Then I suppose ya won’ be needin’ this?” he held up something…and Voltaire’s face paled when he realised the scoundrel was holding.

His pocket watch.

“How-?!!”

“Dragon hide mate.” the ex-manager gleefully explained to the for-once-flustered demon , pointing to a scaly hand. “Coated with phoenix blood. Endures several degrees of demonic temperature, won it off some vampire bloke in the club.”

“Why you little-” he lunged forward, snarling with disturbingly glowing white eyes, only to abruptly freeze in horror. Devon had placed the pocket watch on a table and was holding a knife in the air.

“You wouldn’t.”

He grinned evilly. “Oh but I would…Now let me stay.”

“I believe I told- WAIT !” the knife was just inches away from the pocket watch, which was protesting with wild vibrations. Devon only grinned. “Well?”

He let out a long breath of defeat. “So be it. You may... settle here for a while.”

“I knew ya wouldn' let me down. And jus’ta be sure…” Devon tucked the watch in his pocket.

Voltaire groaned.  “What the devil  have I gotten myself into…?”