“You can help, but it depends on your definition of help. I try t’work alone.” Not to mention, just because he didn’t view her as an active threat didn’t mean he had to trust her just yet. His experiences with demons wasn’t exactly pleasant, so a half demon who had some of the flying powers of the likes of a Summoner still didn’t put him in the befriending mindset– Yet at least. It’s been a while since he had a decent conversation. Definitely a nice change of pace compared to the pull jaws off, bash skulls in, ask questions almost never.

Fists clench briefly, popping knuckles with loud snaps, even through his armor. “I used to be a marine, got stationed on Mars after breaking my CO’s nose for ordering me to fire on civilians– Someone opened a portal to Hell, demons got loose, I killed them, went into Hell, and have been making sure they don’t get loose again ever since.” Keeping doors closed was fairly easy since they didn’t have anybody on the outside to open one, but keeping their number of forces down to zero was an ordeal. Keeping his stride forward, hand very briefly using a massive rib protruding from the ground as a baring when the footing got briefly dodgy. “I’d tell you how long I’ve been here, but time doesn’t exactly pass here. No day, no night– No seconds, no hours. Just eternal damnation.”

“Can’t imagine anyone wantin’ t’get stuck by a demon.” At least as far as the ones around here look, act, and well… everything. They were hideous, bloodthirsty, and honestly not all that friendly. He’d killed enough of them with his bare hands to be able to feel confident in saying that. That was besides the point though, probably not his place to be poking about in her private matters anyway.

“Congratulations. You made it. Yer in a new an’ fresh Hell. Can’t imagine why you’d wanna come here, but here you are. North is lakes’a fire and brimstone, South is where they keep the lost souls on pikes. East an’ west are more’a the same. Now what?” If she could travel dimensions that was a bit of an out wasn’t it? A way back to home? Nah, wasn’t nothin’ left for him there. ‘Sides, someone had to keep these bastards at bay, and he wasn’t exactly shirking his duty. He walks toward, then past her, dropping down the short ledge into the deep brimstone scorched red sands.

“I got time. Can’t be any nuttier than half the shit I’ve lived. Assume you got good enough reason for digging yourself down here, so to speak.” The tale of William Joseph Blazkowicz was an unruly and wild one, that with each passing moment only seemed to get weirder. Reaching back, a magnetic fastener holds his double barrel on his back, he probably wouldn’t need it, and if he would his hands could probably do the talking just as well this close.

“Educated guess. I know demons. I know what happens in this part’a Hell t’humans not all that well protected.” Though most were just eager to try and pull him apart. That and humans regularly didn’t do to well in the depths all by themselves with little more than cloaks to protect them. He talked with his hands and bullets, he murdered demons for sport and for the good of those the forces of Doom would see destroyed, but he wasn’t stupid. “’Sides, you’re one’a the few non-imp-y faces I seen that isn’t actively suffering eternal damnation.”

“Ruins of Argent D’Nur. Supposed former home of Gods and Kings– All I ever seen of it was death and ruin.” Demons didn’t like to come here anymore, not while he was here, not while he was awake. They feared his wrath and they saw this as his domain. A brief respite from the forces of Doom, for the fearsome Slayer of prophecy, the slayer made king of a fallen kingdom.

“How’d you get here? Hell ain’t exactly an easy place to get into– Let alone traverse.” Humanity spent decades building portals and still mostly relied on pre-existing ancient doors to the realm of eternal suffering, and now that he was here he’d spent years here in this void that time couldn’t reach, learning how to travel.

@darkmeditation​ liked for a starter

Wherever he went, death followed, and all through the pits of fire and brimstone screams of agony from his dismembered and deceased victims echo like a symphony of agony conducted by the Doom Slayer himself. It was with that fear that he worked tirelessly to stave off full invasion from the forces of Doom.

Not like any demon he’d ever seen. “Ain’t see too many like you in the pits.” He’s pushing shells into his gun, snapping it closed, and resting the barrel on his shoulder.