Okay. So maybe not within a week, per say…

Sometimes I feel as if the world hates me.

In which Tobias is very much afraid of an 8-year-old brat. For once, Abdiel is semi amused.


Of course, on the one day that he decides to visit his…friend, Tobias could not find Luc-Abdiel anywhere in his ridiculously large and out-of-the-way home. Calls went to voicemail. And seriously, this was pretty much the one time Tobias actually wanted to train.

Things were going fairly normally that day, not counting his unexplainable urge to get used to his new gargoyle form. Tobias had ley-line traveled to Arizona (using a grand total of two trips), changed into his gargoyle form, and flown over to Abdiel's place in the middle of nowhere. All of that was quite a bit of work by his standards (being absolutely nothing to do with his supernatural powers), so when Tobias had entered the silent household, he had simply plopped onto Abdiel's semi-clean leather couch of the surprisingly well-furnished living room and started picking his fingernails, waiting for the nephilim to return, getting up to go to Abdiel's library partly through his wait. Because seriously, Lucien. Why are you taking for-freaking-ever?

Ahem. He meant Abdiel.

About an hour later, the sound of Abdiel's front door opening and closing knocked Tobias out of his somewhat vegetative state. He got off the couch and started towards the door, ready to mimic the ever-so-lovely Ferrari sibling's tendency to (rudely) demand to know just what Abdiel was doing. That was all ruined when, instead of seeing the man with chestnut hair and piercing green eyes he was expecting, the door had opened to reveal the smirking face of an (approximately) 8-year-old boy.

The boy had dark, jet-black hair that seemed almost silvery as the light reflected off of it, and a wicked expression that didn't quite match the childlike large eyes. Of course that was ruined by the fact that they were pitch-black and seemed pretty much soulless, if Tobias believed in that kind of stuff. He didn't, believing in much more realistic things like aura and blood magic. Back to the previous topic; the boy was wearing denim overalls with all sorts of (pointy) things poking out of its pockets. He was also wearing the expression of someone who had been told that Christmas was coming early, oh, sorry; it's not, but Halloween's coming up too, so that's just as good.

"Who are you?" Tobias asked, not sensing any aura from the boy.

"Excuse me, mister, but I believed I asked first." said the boy, "Who the ** are you?!"

Tobias scowled and then said two somethings that he very much regretted later. One of which was "Since when?", and the other was, "Tobias Smithson, Private Investigator. I'm here waiting for Luc-Abdiel St. Jude, and I highly doubt that he's expecting you, so I suggest you leave."

"TOBY!" the boy yelled gleefully, not confirming the very much true previous fact and, reaching out faster than Tobias could blink, snatching his gun from his holster, proceeding to race off.

Tobias watched in disbelief. Apparently, the boy was, indeed, a gargoyle. A gargoyle who was at that moment, running in the direction of Abdiel's weapons room.

He then said some things that he'd rather not repeat, afterwards chasing after the boy. Because, at that moment, he came to the realization that if the brat wrecked the house, Tobias was dead.

Ten minutes of screaming, hard work, general pain, bruises, gunshots, knife wounds, a lucky toss of Abdiel's work-in-progress spring-release net (made after drinking a couple bottles of Devil's Water alcohol), and a fairly embarrassing Pinkie promise session, Tobias was sitting in the kitchen, groaning about his bad luck and the brat, who was at that moment entertaining himself by alternatively watching television and poking the significantly weaker gargoyle's bruises hard enough to actually create new ones.

Just. When. Will. Lucien. Come. Back?

Tobias swatted away another poke-attack, earning one on his unprotected ribs, and scowled.

"You never did answer, brat, the question about what your name was." he said, trying to distract himself from the throbbing pain.

"Why would I ever do that, Toby?" the brat shot back, smirking knowingly as he landed another poke on Tobias' forehead.

"Don't call me that! And that's only if you want to be known as 'Brat'".

Brat pouted. "Fine. My name is…Barneythe**ingdinosaur…the fifth!"

Tobias felt his eyebrows rise. "I highly doubt that."

"Yeah, you're right…it's actually the hundred-and-sixty-second."

"I doubt that, too!"

"Well, that one is **ing true, Toby!"

"Don't call me that!" Tobias shouted.

The boy smirked. The Operation is accomplished. Now, to exceed expectations…

"TOBY. TobyTobyToby. TOBY-BOY. TO-"

"Mircea?!" both Tobias and the self-named Barneythe**ingdinosaur the hundred-and-sixty-second turned around to see the shocked face of one Lucien Keene, or, as he prefers to be called, Abdiel St. Jude. His expression would have been comical, especially coupled with the large knife he was holding, had Tobias not been wearing a very similar expression.

Brat, or Mircea, however, had not such problems and promptly whipped out a smartphone, taking a picture of the two astonished gargoyles in front of him and saving it to his background.

"Abby's back!" he shrieked in delight, jolting the two out of their surprise. "Look, Toby! Abby's back!"

Abdiel turned to Tobias. "Toby?"

Tobias returned the single-raised-eyebrow look. "Abby?"

"Well," said the youngest (by appearance). "It appears that you have company, and I shall therefore take my leave, sending both of you delightful people my sympathy for not being around my awesomeness any longer. Remember! I'm also on Facebook and Twitter! Muah!"

The last bit was pronounced as he kissed Tobias on both cheeks in a European fashion. He then proceeded to skip out the front door, through the front door (creating an interestingly shaped hole).

"So," said Abdiel, turning towards Tobias and looking torn as to whether to be angry, in hysterics, or annoyed. "Had fun?"

Tobias' response was to bash his head against a wall.


Is it just me, or has the Operations been steadily growing crackier?