Samuel's expression hardened at Isaac's interruption. Studies on this one had revealed him to be one of the few awakened dolls in existence today, one of the great adversaries peers. But apparently the man was also prone to games. Having little purpose or ambition in his hollow existence than in toying with others. This was evident in the pompous and patronizing way he addressed the poison of god. It was clear that he had neither any faith in the "advice" he was offering nor any care if it was taken or ignored. He was simply looking for a reaction. Playing games. Making a nuisance of himself. And if this weren't annoying enough, the morose and self pitying state had found baldur's vessel wallowing in was rather unsightly. Not something Sam would wish to endure for long. But luckily he hadn't come here to recruit Al, not really. Despite his words, Sam's only real goal was to torment what he perceived to be a rather exceptionally pathetic doll. A husk that made even humans seem redeemable by comparison.
Without even bothering to address either the depressed doll or the awakened apathetic directly, Samuel pointed a finger at Al and, in a flash, a streak of white hot hellfire pierced his skull like a bullet. Sam knew well that the regenerative qualities granted by baldur's soul were far from perfect. And even in top form, Al would struggle to recover from such a grievous wound and a four inch hole burned right through the brain. And as he was now, weakened from his earlier run in with the mad doll, Sam was quite confident that if the shot didn't outright kill Alistair, it would damage him for whatever remained of his life. While a prediction could not be made as to which outcome might transpire, Sam was confident enough in his research over the dolls not to worry. After all, it took quite a bit of torture to extract all the data he had from high ranking agents of sanctuary. And people did not simply protect false or useless information even after having their entrails replaced with poisonous snakes.
After striking down Al and leaving his body to float limply in the pool, his blood clouding the waters with a reddish hue, Sam turned to face Isaac directly. And as he did so, the two were transported to an opulent and rather secluded little bungalow in the south of France. The pool house shifted in an instant to a comfortable little balcony overlooking a sprawling and beautiful vineyard. Beside them was a fancy tea table set with a platter of expensive cheeses as well as a bottle of vintage red and two glasses.
"Ah, Isaac. What an absolute delight it is to have such an accomplished chosen call on me. You really must forgive me, though. Had I known you'd planned a visit I would have prepared a welcome befitting such an illustrious guest."
Sam's disposition seemed to turn on a dime. Gone was the venom and vitriol he spewed forth at Al. Replaced with honeyed words and magnetic charm that, while likely entirely ineffective on the ice hearted Hel, were nevertheless a rather stark contrast to Sam's prior demeanor. The man offered Isaac a calm and approachable smile before turning to pour them each a glass of wine.
"I do hope you won't take offense that all I have to offer on such short notice is a bit of wine and cheese." He said humbly even as he proceeded to hand Isaac a glass full of easily eight hundred dollars worth of aged french wine.
"Its a seventy eight. I do hope it meets with your approval, chosen of the great goddess Hel."
Once he'd handed Isaac the wine, he took his own glass in hand and drank in its fragrant bouquet while looking to Isaac over the rim of his glass with a sharp and appraising gaze. Sam then savored a slow sip if the crimson spirits, the act seeming almost sensual in nature as he drew in scarlet liquid past his soft, parted lips.
"Mmmm. Delicious." He commented, though in truth he savored the wine far less then he did the notion that he might very well have put Hel's little treasure Baldur back into circulation. Further extending the time it would take for the gods soul to be reclaimed by the icy chains of Niflheim and Hel's domain. Sam would remain ever the picture of hospitality for his peers. Believing he owed that much to his fellow awakened. But disrespect still required correction.
"So tell me, Isaac. To what do I owe the honor of your visit. Surely you've not simply come to advise me on how best to deal with such a worthless and pathetic doll as that little husk…, oh, what was its name. Alice? Albert? Ugh, forgive me. It's so hard to keep a mental catalogue of all the riff raff cluttering this world. There's just so very much garbage out there today."
---
As the poison of god whisked Isaac away to france, there was an audible pop which broke the stillness of the poolhouse. The sound of air crashing into the vacuum left behind which, just moments ago, had been occupied by two bodies. And for a few moments, the only thing out of place within the pool house was the corpse floating in the deep end of the water. But that would change only a few moments after the departure of the awakened.
The ding of the elevator would break the silence once more. And wisps of pale white smoke would curl around the doors as they parted. Johan wore a rather incredulous expression on his face as he stepped into the pool house. Not quite knowing what to expect as he strolled toward the scene of the discord which had attracted him here like a moth to the flame. But upon first glimpsing Al's corpse bobbing in the pool, the man's expression changed in an instant. A playful grin parted his pierced lips and his golden eyes glinted with mischief as he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth to summon one of his familiars.
At his command, a beautiful panther leaped out of thin air and landed gracefully on its feet beside her master. The beast looked up to Jonah with its piercing green eyes and, as if able to read her master's desires with but a glance, dove into the pool to retrieve the Alistair's body. After collecting him, careful not to damage his body further with her deadly jaws, the panther placed the body gently down at her masters feet on his back. Johan rewarded his familiar with a loving pet on the head and some scratches on her cheeks which immediately elicited a series of pleasurable purrs from the contented beast even though she was now dripping wet.
Upon kneeling down beside Alistair, Johan was given a start when his feline companion abruptly decided to shake herself dry and douse him in the water which had clung to her fur. His fine black suit was quickly soaked and his lit cigarette put out with a hiss as a result. Johan gave his beast a rather unamused look but quickly laughed it off as he turned his attention back to the body before him.
"I can't imagine this is how ya saw your night ending." He mused as he traced a hand gently over the smooth skin of Al's face. And with a touch, he could feel all that the man's life had been in a flash. All the regret, discontent and toil which had culminated finally in this tragic and abrupt demise. He was also able to glean the presence of two powerful gods present among the madness of sorrow and emptiness within the dolls still heart. These potents brought with them a touch of sympathy for the doll in Johan. But also an irresistible lure toward the mischief that was his chief vice. How very fun it would be to shake things up for those two by bringing this one back, stronger and more spirited than perhaps they might have bargained for. The visions showed the gods holding such smug expressions as they looked down on this one. And Johan felt an irresistible urge to see those two knocked down a peg or two, preferably by this pretty boy at his feet.
"I can offer you one more chance. To live again. To live the life you desire. To be the man you were always meant to be. Would ya like that kiddo?" Johan grabbed Al by the hair and moved his head up and down as if to make him nod in approval.
"Great! Good answer kiddo! Now than… Johan held out a hand and in his grasp appeared a luxurious golden chalice; a relic belonging to the god who'd joined with his soul so many years ago. Johan tipped the chalice to one side and from it poured what could easily be the finest wine in existence. It landed on the parted lips of the dolls corpse and immediately the warmth of the spirits chased away the cold chill of death. As the trickle of sweet crimson made it's way down Al's throat, his injuries would slowly begin to heal. But the wine gods miracle did not bring him back to life from the clutches of death, for that was not within his power. Not really. Instead, Al would be reborn just as Dionysus had so long ago. The healing magic of the wine would bring him back, but he would be forever changed after his brush with death. And as Johan gazed down at the beautiful young man, watching the color return to his lovely flesh, he found himself wondering how different Al would be from the man he'd glimpsed in the visions granted by his cold dead heart.