At one point, just before entering one of the garages and commandeering a vehicle, the demon turns to look up at a security camera. His dark eyes bore into the lens, and he smiles just a second before snapping his fingers and melting it from the inside out. He’s absolutely drunk on power and destruction, alongside the fear and pain of everyone who had been unlucky enough to cross his path along the way. He frankly can’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun.
He chooses the sleekest, fastest model available and rests a hand on the dash, his power moving through the circuitry and the basic mechanics of it until he finds what he’s looking for. A GPS unit, or perhaps a spell used to keep tabs on the car’s whereabouts. Whichever it is, a concentrated burst of energy is enough to short it out, and he tosses Hanzo into the backseat before speeding away. The skyline behind them is bright as dawn from the fire, which will keep burning until there’s little left but warped metal and ash.
The hotel he chooses is nice. Busy. Full of dozens upon dozens of humans, making it suitable for his purposes should Hanzo wake before they move. He manages to stay awake past dawn himself, but he can’t make it past noon when the sun is at its strongest. It seems his body won’t be denied some of its basic needs regardless of what he does. So after leaving Hanzo in the bed, he sets himself up in the living room, working until he’s forced to lean back and close his eyes.
There’s so much to plan. So much to do, now that he has everything he needs in his hands and no one who can deny him any of it.
He's not sure of where he is when he wakes, but most assuredly he had not been expecting to wake at all. Once the demon sank his fangs into him and drew him down to the dregs, he was certain the creature would finish the job.
Why hadn't he?
He still feels sluggish. Movement is impossible for the moment, as his body attempts to recover enough energy to survive. To thrust him out into the night to feed, to feast, and replenish what was lost. But it's not just the hunger, is it?
There's a chill at his core he can't shake, and he's not certain if it will take him first, or if the frenzy will. He's not certain which would be preferable at this point, either.
The demon’s eyes open the moment Hanzo’s does, and he takes a moment to wait and see what the man is capable of. If anything. The answer is apparent before long, and he makes a quick phone call before standing to go check in on his sire.
He’d done this purposefully, the scene a familiar one. Comfortable even. The two of them in a hotel room. Hanzo free of any restraints. Nothing keeping him trapped, physically, other than his condition. He slips his hands into the pockets of stolen jeans as he looks down at Hanzo with a smile.
“Well look at you. Put you down for the count, didn’t I?”
He reaches out to tap Hanzo on the center of his chest.
“Bet you’re feelin’ it now, but I’ll make it up to you.”
The moment the demon appears he tenses. It's clear he'd love nothing more than to tear out his throat, were it not for the body he was currently inhabiting.
It's just a body now. Jesse's gone. He was likely devoured by this...this thing. All that remains is the physical essence of the bond, the blood shared, and he should do away with what remains. He knows that.
The black drains from his eyes and his expression changes, going soft and fond. The kind of unguarded look Jesse might have only allowed himself to show that night in bed, both of their defenses down just that once. He brushes a lock of Hanzo’s hair from his face.
“Don’t tell me you aren’t, Han. I know better.”
Then the doorbell rings, and the deviousness returns, though his eyes stay the same.
“I ordered you a little somethin’. Stay put, yeah?”
All he feels is rage at that look. How well he remembers it, the way Jesse had looked at him that night. There had been a promise then of something more, a promise never fulfilled. Those are things the demon has no right to, and here he is, twisting them deep like a knife.
His teeth grit as he turns his head away from the brief touch -- "Don't use that name, you..." -- but then an interruption comes in the form of someone approaching. The call at the door.
What new devilry is this? He tries to push himself upward, but every inch of him burns. Freezes. Aches. Even fitting words together without slurring is a challenge, and whatever the demon has called down upon them both now, he has no way to defend against.
It's the growing sense of helplessness. That's the worst of it.
He stands and gives Hanzo one last look back over his shoulder from the doorway. He's a prideful thing. The demon knows their kind well. How his state must be rankling at that pride now.
With a smirk, he disappears back into the main room of their suite—because of course he’d gotten the best option they had available. The couple he’d killed on the way here had plenty of assets, and it’ll be days before anyone starts seriously looking into their whereabouts. He’ll have ditched the credit cards by then.
There’s two voices, Jesse’s and another, and then the sound of a metal cart. The scuffle that follows the door shutting is brief, and he reenters the bedroom with a hotel employee in his grasp. The man moves where he’s led, a dazed and vaguely frightened look on his face as he stares ahead at nothing. Over his shoulder, the demon grins down at Hanzo.
The hunger propels him forward. He senses the blood pumping through the frightened man's veins, and nothing else matters. Survival takes priority, and those dark eyes gain a sudden sheen of red. Once they're close enough to the bed, Hanzo pounces.
Nails dig into the nape of the man's neck, wrenching him forward as teeth bare and sink deeply, and oh. The beautiful font of warmth that spills down his throat after. He can feel the struggling, the pain and the fear, but some things are stronger than remorse.
He feeds, latched tight to his meal, eyes staring ahead at the demon all the while. The bastard is enjoying this.
The question is what makes him think Hanzo won't just attack him the moment he has his strength back.
He lets go of the employee once Hanzo has him, letting the vampire feed unimpeded. Once he figures Hanzo is about halfway done, his thoughts lucid, he lifts a hand. A bit of demon fire twists and turns through his fingers as he tilts his hand this way and that, not unlike a coin might at the bidding of someone adept at sleight of hand.
“There’s a family downstairs from us. Real nice couple, two daughters. Met ‘em checkin’ in.” Another turn, another flicker of flame. “Two fellas next door are celebratin’ their first anniversary. Real sweet. Across from them’s a young lady and her friends, out on a birthday trip. If you listen, you can probably hear it: all those hearts beatin’.”
His hand stops, the fire resting in his palm. A tame thing, for now.
The employee falls to the ground gasping, a trembling hand grasping at his throat weakly before his eyes roll shut. His heart beats weakly...and then not at all. It's not the way he would have wanted it, but he'll need his strength for what's to come.
And even with that fresh blood coursing in his veins, he can't shake that cold grasp in his chest. He can move. He can think, and speak. That has to be enough, for now.
He meets the demon's gaze, only once flicking his gaze to the unholy flame dancing so easily around his fingertips. "You would hold them hostage to hold me at bay? When you unleashed would bring so much greater destruction to this world?" he grinds out, pulling himself to his feet.
The demon cocks his head to the side, watchful eyes not blinking once.
“You would sacrifice them all for just a chance at killin’ me?”
He sounds almost impressed, and far from concerned. The lives of the mortals nearby are nothing to him, and he knows Hanzo isn’t back to his full strength. Not after that last bite. Any fight they wage will end in his favor. Nothing gained, but also nothing lost.
“At least give a fella a chance to say his piece before you go tryin’ to murder him right off the bat. Besides, do I look like I want to kill you right now? I even got you breakfast.”
"You've told me what you had to say, before you attacked me," he snaps in retort. Yet he holds his ground, rather than advance. Perhaps he realizes the odds are stacked against him, or perhaps some part of him can't help but be curious.
One thing is certain. He would absolutely sacrifice those innocents in this building, and the next, and the next, if it meant killing the creature that took Jesse from existence.
Demons are all about giving people what they want. They’re generous like that. It’s not their fault that humans are so often reckless in their greed, wagering things they really can’t stand to lose. So the question here is: what does Hanzo Shimada want? What bargaining chip would be most effective to bend him to a demon’s will just now?
The answer is clear, but it’s a gamble. It involves revealing his hand, if only in part. But the payoff…
“I needed the blood, and you weren’t exactly in a generous sort of mood, were you?” The light in his hand flickers out, and he folds his arms casually over his chest. “But I think we can come to an understanding, you and I. Just hear me out first. The choice is yours in the end. Your brother, Genji… he’s demon-touched too, isn’t he?”
Never hurts to remind Hanzo just how many different ways this can go, should he be stubborn.
“He’s a different sort though. Not like me. Answer me this, Hanzo—when a demon like me makes a bargain with a mortal like Jesse McCree—mortal at the time, anyhow—what is it they bind themselves to?”
At first Hanzo just remains bristled, trying to work out in his mind the best method of attack while the demon speaks. Let it distract itself, carrying on as much as it likes. He doesn't intend to listen, only to take the opportune moment when it presents itself.
Then comes the realization of those last words, striking deep and sudden as...well. An arrow to the chest.
"...the soul."
Now, he has his attention. His shoulders brace in resolve, even as his weight subtly settles back into his heels.
The change in Hanzo is subtle, but notable. Good. Means he might think twice about lashing out without listening.
“If his soul wasn’t still in here, I wouldn’t be either. Even after the body dies, if the soul remains…” He looks down at his right hand, devoid of pulse, and flexes his fingers. “So does the contract, and everybody tied up in it. So you kill me, you free us both… and I get to have his soul right and proper, like I should’ve from the start.”
At least, if the demon is telling the truth. It could be lying, saying whatever it thinks might stop him from tearing him out of that body with bloodied claws.
But it makes sense. Of course the demon ties itself to the soul, in the hopes that it can be there to collect when that mortal dies.
"...what do you want from me?" he grinds out at last, fingers curling tensely at his side. Feeding from him to escape, dragging him along, then giving him that poor attendant to feed on...does he intend to simply keep him at hand, like some personal juicebox? Feeding off of that power to do whatever he pleases?
“Nothin’ you can’t spare. Bet you already guessed the one thing.”
Of course he wants access to Hanzo’s blood. Now that he’s seen what he can do with it, felt that rush, he won’t give it up.
“But I can be fair. I won’t make you bleed daily. You can feel it, can’t you? What that bite does to you?” He looks down at Hanzo’s chest, as if he can see straight through to the chill beneath, and shakes his head. “Nah. Once a month should do me just fine, and keep you from trippin’ headfirst into the void by accident. But there’s more to you than just the blood. And a pretty face.”
He winks, taking a step forward as his voice drops. Deep, smooth, downright tempting under other circumstances, perhaps. “You’ve got other strengths… ones I can use. One night a month, I want you at my side. Followin’ my orders. In exchange, I’ll give you a hint. Start you off on the path to finding out how to save your fledgling’s soul.”
It’s not a fair deal at all with those terms. He’s asking for too much for too little. Giving himself far too much leeway. Only question is if Hanzo will try to bargain.
Well, it's good to know he's at least able to anticipate this much. His senses haven't entirely left him, and he has some idea now of the creature's endgame. If he cared to roll the dice with Jesse's soul, he could play him. Use his position to give either Overwatch or Talon a fighting chance at taking him down once and for all.
Genji could be trusted with such a task, perhaps.
But the gamble means that Jesse could wind up being dragged to whatever Hell this beast resides in, subject to his torments for eternity. That, he cannot abide.
"And what do you intend to do with the rest of the days of the month?" he presses on, nostrils flaring as he keeps himself in check. For now.
An interesting question. The demon keeps his eyes locked on Hanzo, watching. Assessing. Considering. The subtle art of the bargain is one he enjoys, and he takes pride in doing it well. The key is understanding the other party, their motivations and fears. What could Hanzo be thinking now? He’d been willing to sacrifice all the mortal souls in proximity a moment ago. Does he fear what chaos the demon night unleash on the world?
“Considerin’ I’ve been locked up in this body for upwards of two decades now…” His grin goes wide. “Whatever the hell I want, I reckon.”
"And I am to sit by and let you act on whatever evil lurks in your heart? I would never. Nor would Jesse wish such a thing."
Deals and bargains are not his forte. He prefers to keep things as straightforward as possible, as his arrangement with Jesse had been. Now it's a different sort of deal, meant to keep this thing in check until he could find a way to free Jesse from its grasp.
"I will agree to your terms...but only if you live by our creed for the remaining days of the month. Hunt monsters, hunt other vampires if you must, but no harm will come to the innocents in your path. And when that day comes where I must serve you, then I will. My bow and my powers will be yours, without argument."
The demon listens with the barest hint of a frown. He hadn’t expected that, but it also isn’t a setback. Or not much of one anyway. Having any sort of restriction put on him isn’t ideal, but it’s part and parcel of bargaining, and he’s still got plenty of freedom to do as he pleases.
And if he should tire of it, he could always kill Hanzo. The agreement doesn’t rule that out. Not that he’s liable to, not anytime soon… but they do have the rest of eternity. Things could change.
“Not bad, archer. Not bad at all.” He blinks, and his eyes are back to black. When he speaks, his voice echoes strangely within the confines of the bedroom.
“The terms are set, Hanzo Shimada. We agree of our own volition to enter this pact, and so it will bind us both.”
This is the least he has sounded like Jesse since this started, the accent stripped away, his voice flat. A warm breeze stirs the air around them as he holds out a hand to shake on it, palm radiating the same heat Hanzo might remember from the demon fire back at Talon. Or from Jesse, whenever he’d use Deadeye.
It is surrendering himself to an unknown element. And he knows whatever the demon asks of him will likely be bloody work. But he has no choice. It is this, or know that Jesse is lost forever, and he could have done something about it.
He lives with enough ghosts, enough regrets.
Jaw set, he lifts his hand, taking hold of the demon's and feeling that heat roll flush through him. It's a familiar thing, and for a moment he recalls the deserts of the American southwest, on those long nights rolling through the wilderness with only the headlamps of their vehicle to guide them.
For you, I will do this. I will find a way to free you, I swear it.
He can feel Hanzo’s intent, and it’s a curious thing. Selflessness. There are things a demon can’t intrinsically understand, human traits they cannot emulate aside from in exaggerated pantomime. Hanzo may not be human any longer, but his heart is still more human than perhaps he’d care to admit.
“It’s a deal then. Funny how these things work out. You helped me get the foothold I needed in this man’s heart, and now you’re fighting to save it.” He slips his hand from Hanzo’s grip with a sigh that almost sounds content. Sated.
“You’ll be wanting your hint then I reckon. You got anythin’ in particular you want to know to get you started?” He might not answer, but he’ll at least consider it.
He sees nothing funny in any of this. And he has no desire to discuss how things have changed between him and Jesse over the time they've known each other. He might have been privy to it, seen it and drawn his own conclusions, but it is not for him to comment on.
Though that does present an issue. Any move against him, any sense of intent, and the demon will know. He can simply reach across their bond and feel whatever Hanzo tries to mask or hide. Fortunately, his desire to save Jesse is no secret, not between the two of them.
His back straightens, hand drawn back to his side as soon as he is able.
"What is required? Are there physical components?" First thing's first. Give him a direction. Research he can do. Something tangible he can follow. The demon won't make it easy, but one can only hope he'll be true to his word.
Oh Hanzo, you’re no fun. All business. There’s thankfully still entertainment in considering just how solidly to put him on the hunt. A worthless hint would be most expedient, but less thrilling. He wants a little danger, is curious how close Hanzo will get before he either gives up or has to be taken out of play.
“What’s that human phrase…? Oh, yeah—” He snaps his fingers. “There’s more than one way to skin a cat. Whether or not there are physical components depends on how you want to go about it.”
Vague, but true. His favorite space to operate in.
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He chooses the sleekest, fastest model available and rests a hand on the dash, his power moving through the circuitry and the basic mechanics of it until he finds what he’s looking for. A GPS unit, or perhaps a spell used to keep tabs on the car’s whereabouts. Whichever it is, a concentrated burst of energy is enough to short it out, and he tosses Hanzo into the backseat before speeding away. The skyline behind them is bright as dawn from the fire, which will keep burning until there’s little left but warped metal and ash.
The hotel he chooses is nice. Busy. Full of dozens upon dozens of humans, making it suitable for his purposes should Hanzo wake before they move. He manages to stay awake past dawn himself, but he can’t make it past noon when the sun is at its strongest. It seems his body won’t be denied some of its basic needs regardless of what he does. So after leaving Hanzo in the bed, he sets himself up in the living room, working until he’s forced to lean back and close his eyes.
There’s so much to plan. So much to do, now that he has everything he needs in his hands and no one who can deny him any of it.
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Why hadn't he?
He still feels sluggish. Movement is impossible for the moment, as his body attempts to recover enough energy to survive. To thrust him out into the night to feed, to feast, and replenish what was lost. But it's not just the hunger, is it?
There's a chill at his core he can't shake, and he's not certain if it will take him first, or if the frenzy will. He's not certain which would be preferable at this point, either.
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The demon’s eyes open the moment Hanzo’s does, and he takes a moment to wait and see what the man is capable of. If anything. The answer is apparent before long, and he makes a quick phone call before standing to go check in on his sire.
He’d done this purposefully, the scene a familiar one. Comfortable even. The two of them in a hotel room. Hanzo free of any restraints. Nothing keeping him trapped, physically, other than his condition. He slips his hands into the pockets of stolen jeans as he looks down at Hanzo with a smile.
“Well look at you. Put you down for the count, didn’t I?”
He reaches out to tap Hanzo on the center of his chest.
“Bet you’re feelin’ it now, but I’ll make it up to you.”
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It's just a body now. Jesse's gone. He was likely devoured by this...this thing. All that remains is the physical essence of the bond, the blood shared, and he should do away with what remains. He knows that.
Instead, he rasps out,
"Why...didn't you kill me?"
It wants something. Their kind always does.
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The black drains from his eyes and his expression changes, going soft and fond. The kind of unguarded look Jesse might have only allowed himself to show that night in bed, both of their defenses down just that once. He brushes a lock of Hanzo’s hair from his face.
“Don’t tell me you aren’t, Han. I know better.”
Then the doorbell rings, and the deviousness returns, though his eyes stay the same.
“I ordered you a little somethin’. Stay put, yeah?”
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His teeth grit as he turns his head away from the brief touch -- "Don't use that name, you..." -- but then an interruption comes in the form of someone approaching. The call at the door.
What new devilry is this? He tries to push himself upward, but every inch of him burns. Freezes. Aches. Even fitting words together without slurring is a challenge, and whatever the demon has called down upon them both now, he has no way to defend against.
It's the growing sense of helplessness. That's the worst of it.
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With a smirk, he disappears back into the main room of their suite—because of course he’d gotten the best option they had available. The couple he’d killed on the way here had plenty of assets, and it’ll be days before anyone starts seriously looking into their whereabouts. He’ll have ditched the credit cards by then.
There’s two voices, Jesse’s and another, and then the sound of a metal cart. The scuffle that follows the door shutting is brief, and he reenters the bedroom with a hotel employee in his grasp. The man moves where he’s led, a dazed and vaguely frightened look on his face as he stares ahead at nothing. Over his shoulder, the demon grins down at Hanzo.
“I got you room service.”
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Nails dig into the nape of the man's neck, wrenching him forward as teeth bare and sink deeply, and oh. The beautiful font of warmth that spills down his throat after. He can feel the struggling, the pain and the fear, but some things are stronger than remorse.
He feeds, latched tight to his meal, eyes staring ahead at the demon all the while. The bastard is enjoying this.
The question is what makes him think Hanzo won't just attack him the moment he has his strength back.
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“There’s a family downstairs from us. Real nice couple, two daughters. Met ‘em checkin’ in.” Another turn, another flicker of flame. “Two fellas next door are celebratin’ their first anniversary. Real sweet. Across from them’s a young lady and her friends, out on a birthday trip. If you listen, you can probably hear it: all those hearts beatin’.”
His hand stops, the fire resting in his palm. A tame thing, for now.
“Your call if this building survives the night.”
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And even with that fresh blood coursing in his veins, he can't shake that cold grasp in his chest. He can move. He can think, and speak. That has to be enough, for now.
He meets the demon's gaze, only once flicking his gaze to the unholy flame dancing so easily around his fingertips. "You would hold them hostage to hold me at bay? When you unleashed would bring so much greater destruction to this world?" he grinds out, pulling himself to his feet.
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“You would sacrifice them all for just a chance at killin’ me?”
He sounds almost impressed, and far from concerned. The lives of the mortals nearby are nothing to him, and he knows Hanzo isn’t back to his full strength. Not after that last bite. Any fight they wage will end in his favor. Nothing gained, but also nothing lost.
“At least give a fella a chance to say his piece before you go tryin’ to murder him right off the bat. Besides, do I look like I want to kill you right now? I even got you breakfast.”
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One thing is certain. He would absolutely sacrifice those innocents in this building, and the next, and the next, if it meant killing the creature that took Jesse from existence.
It may yet come to that. They will see.
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The answer is clear, but it’s a gamble. It involves revealing his hand, if only in part. But the payoff…
“I needed the blood, and you weren’t exactly in a generous sort of mood, were you?” The light in his hand flickers out, and he folds his arms casually over his chest. “But I think we can come to an understanding, you and I. Just hear me out first. The choice is yours in the end. Your brother, Genji… he’s demon-touched too, isn’t he?”
Never hurts to remind Hanzo just how many different ways this can go, should he be stubborn.
“He’s a different sort though. Not like me. Answer me this, Hanzo—when a demon like me makes a bargain with a mortal like Jesse McCree—mortal at the time, anyhow—what is it they bind themselves to?”
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Then comes the realization of those last words, striking deep and sudden as...well. An arrow to the chest.
"...the soul."
Now, he has his attention. His shoulders brace in resolve, even as his weight subtly settles back into his heels.
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The change in Hanzo is subtle, but notable. Good. Means he might think twice about lashing out without listening.
“If his soul wasn’t still in here, I wouldn’t be either. Even after the body dies, if the soul remains…” He looks down at his right hand, devoid of pulse, and flexes his fingers. “So does the contract, and everybody tied up in it. So you kill me, you free us both… and I get to have his soul right and proper, like I should’ve from the start.”
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At least, if the demon is telling the truth. It could be lying, saying whatever it thinks might stop him from tearing him out of that body with bloodied claws.
But it makes sense. Of course the demon ties itself to the soul, in the hopes that it can be there to collect when that mortal dies.
"...what do you want from me?" he grinds out at last, fingers curling tensely at his side. Feeding from him to escape, dragging him along, then giving him that poor attendant to feed on...does he intend to simply keep him at hand, like some personal juicebox? Feeding off of that power to do whatever he pleases?
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Of course he wants access to Hanzo’s blood. Now that he’s seen what he can do with it, felt that rush, he won’t give it up.
“But I can be fair. I won’t make you bleed daily. You can feel it, can’t you? What that bite does to you?” He looks down at Hanzo’s chest, as if he can see straight through to the chill beneath, and shakes his head. “Nah. Once a month should do me just fine, and keep you from trippin’ headfirst into the void by accident. But there’s more to you than just the blood. And a pretty face.”
He winks, taking a step forward as his voice drops. Deep, smooth, downright tempting under other circumstances, perhaps. “You’ve got other strengths… ones I can use. One night a month, I want you at my side. Followin’ my orders. In exchange, I’ll give you a hint. Start you off on the path to finding out how to save your fledgling’s soul.”
It’s not a fair deal at all with those terms. He’s asking for too much for too little. Giving himself far too much leeway. Only question is if Hanzo will try to bargain.
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Genji could be trusted with such a task, perhaps.
But the gamble means that Jesse could wind up being dragged to whatever Hell this beast resides in, subject to his torments for eternity. That, he cannot abide.
"And what do you intend to do with the rest of the days of the month?" he presses on, nostrils flaring as he keeps himself in check. For now.
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“Considerin’ I’ve been locked up in this body for upwards of two decades now…” His grin goes wide. “Whatever the hell I want, I reckon.”
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Deals and bargains are not his forte. He prefers to keep things as straightforward as possible, as his arrangement with Jesse had been. Now it's a different sort of deal, meant to keep this thing in check until he could find a way to free Jesse from its grasp.
"I will agree to your terms...but only if you live by our creed for the remaining days of the month. Hunt monsters, hunt other vampires if you must, but no harm will come to the innocents in your path. And when that day comes where I must serve you, then I will. My bow and my powers will be yours, without argument."
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And if he should tire of it, he could always kill Hanzo. The agreement doesn’t rule that out. Not that he’s liable to, not anytime soon… but they do have the rest of eternity. Things could change.
“Not bad, archer. Not bad at all.” He blinks, and his eyes are back to black. When he speaks, his voice echoes strangely within the confines of the bedroom.
“The terms are set, Hanzo Shimada. We agree of our own volition to enter this pact, and so it will bind us both.”
This is the least he has sounded like Jesse since this started, the accent stripped away, his voice flat. A warm breeze stirs the air around them as he holds out a hand to shake on it, palm radiating the same heat Hanzo might remember from the demon fire back at Talon. Or from Jesse, whenever he’d use Deadeye.
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He lives with enough ghosts, enough regrets.
Jaw set, he lifts his hand, taking hold of the demon's and feeling that heat roll flush through him. It's a familiar thing, and for a moment he recalls the deserts of the American southwest, on those long nights rolling through the wilderness with only the headlamps of their vehicle to guide them.
For you, I will do this. I will find a way to free you, I swear it.
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“It’s a deal then. Funny how these things work out. You helped me get the foothold I needed in this man’s heart, and now you’re fighting to save it.” He slips his hand from Hanzo’s grip with a sigh that almost sounds content. Sated.
“You’ll be wanting your hint then I reckon. You got anythin’ in particular you want to know to get you started?” He might not answer, but he’ll at least consider it.
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Though that does present an issue. Any move against him, any sense of intent, and the demon will know. He can simply reach across their bond and feel whatever Hanzo tries to mask or hide. Fortunately, his desire to save Jesse is no secret, not between the two of them.
His back straightens, hand drawn back to his side as soon as he is able.
"What is required? Are there physical components?" First thing's first. Give him a direction. Research he can do. Something tangible he can follow. The demon won't make it easy, but one can only hope he'll be true to his word.
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“What’s that human phrase…? Oh, yeah—” He snaps his fingers. “There’s more than one way to skin a cat. Whether or not there are physical components depends on how you want to go about it.”
Vague, but true. His favorite space to operate in.
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