Chapter 03: Noonan's Bar

[Clock - 15:09 | 03:09 PM]

---

The exit point for the big hole was a rather inconspicuous alleyway covered in black moss and little pieces of the wall to the right that had a rather big human sized hole on it. There were also several pieces of bone spread around, and most of them were rather... big. As Atlas panted- seriously, holding on for dear life to someone was harder than he thought it'd ever be, but considering the sheer speed at which Waylon had gone, it was a miracle in and of itself that he managed to hold on to him -as his eyes scanned the alleyway, he noticed the scratches on the walls that looked old, some had moss growing over them while others looked more recent because of the dust and pieces of recently fallen rock right beneath them. "Uhm, nice place you got here… This is your, uhm, place right? Like, where you sleep sometimes, and sometimes drop some bones that look weirdly like human bones- Is that a door?"

"[Waylon Jones (Deadpan, slightly Annoyed): Yes. This is the alleyway I take for committing cannibalism- well, I'm not really human, so it isn't cannibalism… This is the alleyway I take to eat those who annoy me, which you're doing right now… And yes, that is a door, a door to a very special little place.]" The more he spoke like this- like Atlas was an idiot (let's face it, he is) -the more annoyed and exasperated he looked. Still holding onto Waylon's scaly crocodilian back and hanging from his back like a monkey, Atlas had to focus a little to see the sign by the door that read the following words [Noonan's Bar Emergency Exit - Waylon is welcome to use it as an entrance, everyone else, fuck off.] written with sharp red colored paint. "[Waylon Jones (Neutral): This is the place… Noonan must have something to help ya with that cut.]" He didn't even hesitate to push the door open and duck to enter the bar through the backdoor. The first thing that hit them was the warm air. It felt weird because Atlas didn't know he even was cold to begin with, and now that he was entering a place with a warm atmosphere, he realized… he was starting to feel cold and didn't even notice it, how?

"[Sean Noonan (Surprised): Ah, Waylon-]" The first face that greeted them was of an older man. He had a rather circular face, a thin and dark mustache that curled inwards at the tips like one of those cliche villain mustaches, and he was smiling. One of his teeth was a golden tooth, and he also had a beast of a machine gun behind him on the wall next to the various bottles of beer. "[Sean Noonan (Surprised): -huh, didn't know you had friends, Waylon, even ones so young... Where did you find the little guy? He doesn't look a day older than Pat when he tried to drink his first beer.]" Chuckling to himself, the man's piercing eyes focused on him- Atlas felt like he was being read, and to be honest, not in a shady (drag queen) way, but in a 'are you a threat?' way and he doesn't know which is worse. The staring contest lasted for a few moments before Sean simply hummed and looked away from them, seemingly giving him his silent approval.

"[Waylon Jones (Amused): Heh well he is kinda small for his age, but he keeps telling me he's 19 years old... I found this guy at one of my tunnels, he had been thrown down there.]" As he spoke, Waylon took a few steps into the bar and took a left- they had actually gotten into this small room that looked to be a pantry of some sorts, there were barrels here alongside other crates of bottles of beer and even some guns too. Atlas' brain made a mental note that guns and beer doesn't go hand in hand. "[Waylon Jones (Serious, Amused): Also, you gotta any of your stuff? The kid cut himself down there. Claimed he's getting some sick and nasty flesh eating disease or something... Only seen one person actually get that.]" Atlas' eyes widened and he let out an "ough" sound as Waylon placed him down on a stool as he stayed behind the counter, looking up at the shelf behind him and reaching out to get a leather bag with a red line drawn on it. He placed it by the counter and began opening it, inside Atlas saw a few cloth band-aids and a small sized first aid kit that was also taken out of the bag.

"...I don't think this is very sanitary, but I am out of options and don't really care." Making his decision, Atlas nodded to himself as Waylon sighed a little.

[<Clicking Clacking of teeth>]

[<Swaying of cloth>]

"[Baytor (Surprised, Intrigued): I am Baytor! (Oh, hello Waylon, I see you've brought us fresh meat.)]" Atlas turned around to see a being, about 3 feet in size, floating behind him. He almost flinched, almost, if it wasn't for the fact that he read him coming from afar! Also, his [Subtitles] were clearly showing him what the thing- Baytor was their name, apparently -wanted to say or meant to say when they spoke. "[Baytor (Intrigued): I am Baytor! (Well, as you've already heard me saying my name, I'm Baytor - Demon Patron of the Criminally Insane... Why do I even bother to talk when all they hear is "I am Baytor" over and over again... Ah, how deep a Demon Lord can fall)]" Clearly he was speaking like he didn't expect Atlas to truly understand him, and that was a little sad. The floating thing that Atlas could only describe as a mouth with a neck and arms wearing a cloth, turned around and picked up a broom, holding it with both hands that had four fingers each as he said to himself: "[Baytor (Sad): I am... Baytor... (Ah, should I have known about the after effects of wearing that damned Crown of Horns, I would've been able to speak still. Damned cursed thing.)]"

Waylon and Sean were speaking to each other about something, but Atlas was completely focused on the demon thing, and he felt a bit of pity for it- He could speak, but nobody could truly understand him, making him sound completely insane to others, after all, he was only saying his name!

"Uhm... I can understand you?"

He shouldn't have said that. He should not have said that.

Why? Well, because as soon as he said that, Baytor's neck twisted in a whole 180° and looked in his direction. He tilted his head to the side and stared at him open wide mouth: "[Bayto (Surprised, Doubtful): I Am Baytor? (Truly? You can understand what I'm saying? Then repeat after me young one - She who sells seashells by the sea shore while shunning sunscreen shall slowly succumb to the smoldering sun's sweeping slaughter.)]"

"She who sells seashells by the sea shore while shunning sunscreen..." Atlas had to slow down a little, so he wouldn't just stumble upon his words llike a three year old: "Shall slowly succumb to the smoldering sun's sweeping slaughter...?" He was a little unsure if he had it all completely right, but he went with it anyway! "Yeah, I think that's what you said- Baytor, was it? Never met a demon before, even more so one that was once a Demon Lord."

[<Excited little demon noises>]

"[Baytor (Excited): I AM BAYTOR! ([sub]Oh[/sub]. [sup]My[/sup]. Satan! It's so fucking good to finally speak to someon that can understand me! Oh thank you young one, I've been itching to speaking to someone for soooo long you've got no idea- Anyway, how are you? What's your name? How old are you? Would you like to make a deal- not for your soul, obviously, we can make an infernal contract where we ca lay down the terms and conditions of the contract but I am willing to give you almost everything I have if you spend at least 30 minutes of every day speaking to me for Satan's sake-)]" he went on and spoke a bunch of words that started to blend into each other as the words of the demon got faster and faster- Presumably, Waylon and Sean were only hearing the little demon go off in a constant "I am Baytor" over and over again each time his speech growinng faster and faster.

"[Sean Noonan (Surprised, Concerned): Wow... I have never seen Baytor speak this much before, and neither have I seen him get this excited before.]" Sean looked at him with raised eyebrows, and Atlas kept his best and most believable innocent face... That was instantly broken apart by the old man's scoff: "[Sean Noonan (Slightly Annoyed): Who did you even bring to my bar, Waylon? Is this kid one of those demon dealings too? Never seen someone speak to Baytor like this before, not even that James Blood guy or whatever was that guy's name.]"

"[Waylon Jones (Slightly Surprised): Oh damn, didn't think the little guy was one of those magical people. Heh, I thought you were just bullshiting me by telling me things I wanted to hear, guess you were serious, huh?]" Waylon looked at him with eyes a little narrowed before he shrugged- he fastened the cloth bandage, tied it, and cut the excess off with his sharp claw like he had done the same several times before in a practiced manner. He began to put everything back into the box- while Atlas was speaking to Baytor, he had been bandaging his wound, he didn't even feel the alcohol that was put on his cut to clean the cut off of bacterias and whatever that green shit on the bottom of the sewers was. "[Waylon Jones (Slightly Excited): So, Demon Whisperer, where and when does our empire begin?]" He turned around, placing the brown colored leather bag right from where he took it on the shelf.

"Well..." Atlas had to ignore Baytor for a moment as he started to, in detail, explain how every single plank of wood on the floor had a name and had once drank the blood of a sinner and the name of the sinner: "It depends, Waylon... Can I call you Waylon?" Said big crocodile man simply huffed and gave a short nod: "Well, Waylon, what do you think you need to have an empire?"

"[Waylon Jones (Uncertain): Uh... Money. Money's definitely one of the things needed to make an empire... And land, land's also something needed.]" Waylon lifted two fingers, a bit of alcohol dripping from his sharp claws as he counted the two things he could think of that were needed for an empire.

"Well, those two are needed as well." With a smile on his lips, Atlas had already made a small short term plan, he turned to look at the man on the side of Waylon: "You would consider him your friend, wouldn't you, Waylon?" Waylon, a little confused, nodded regardless of the many times Sean has denied that they were friends- the old man was just a grumpy guy who would die before saying he loved someone, platonically or romantically -and Atlas simply nodded as he continued his little speech: "Money is certainly one of the many necessities of an empire, as is land, but the backbone of an empire is its people. Not the ruler, but the people... People who join and work for the empire, people who seek the protection of the empire, people who want to have a roof above their head to cover them from the rain."

Pointing towards the window next to the exit- or rather, the entrance of the bar -the quartet (Sean, Waylon, Baytor- who was now waxing romantic tales about his youth as a spawn -and Atlas) all saw a man wearing rags walk by.

"He, Waylon, is your people... And every single homeless person in this city." Atlas saw the way Waylon's eyes seemed to glow as he watched the man walk by, limping as he went, and proudly he marked off the mental list: 'convince Waylon to make an empire with homeless people' as he gripped his two hands and placed his elbows on the wood of the counter, placing his chin on his two hands and making eye contact with Waylon: "So, King Croc, ready to start recruiting for your empire?"

Oh, Waylon did not know yet how much of a devil's deal he had signed with Atlas... But one day, he would have a flourishing empire, and a beautiful weird family of misfits.