The Witch's Son

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Dip, May 30, 2013.

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  1. " Belphegor is a demon; one of the seven princes of Hell. " She would say. " He is known as someone who helps people make discoveries. He seduces people by suggesting to them ingenious inventions that will make them rich. According to some 16th-century demonologists, his power is strongest in April. Belphegor is known as the chief demon of the deadly sin, known as Sloth in Christian tradition. "

    That's what Salem's mother told him. A great enchantress- a temptress- a sorcerer, who only went with the title as The Witch used to tell him lots of things. She used to tell him how to cook, clean, write and read. She used to teach him about life and emotions, and religion and sin. She used to read him to sleep, and sing him to awake.

    She taught him about many wonderful things. About how things worked, how things moved, and how things were created. She also told him about life and death, through riddles and stories. She told him where things went when they were bad, and where they went when they were good. She taught Salem how to be good, and how to be poised.

    Though she was a magnificent teacher and mother, she was an even greater witch. With this power, came people who didn't believe in it. Salem always knew that those people were people, and even if they threw nasty looks and even nastier comments, he should never throw them back.

    Not too long after they started throwing nasty comments, they started throwing threats, and soon rocks followed along. The young boy didn't know why, but he wasn't allowed to go with his mother out to collect goods anymore. The young boy didn't know why, but his mother stopped collecting then, as well.

    His mother stopped a lot of things. She stopped telling him stories. She stopped teaching him history and literature, and she stopped teaching him about emotions and religions. She stopped reading and she stopped singing. But, the one thing she didn't stop was the rocks that came through the windows in the middle of the night, and she didn't stop the fires that came so close to the little shack in the middle of the woods.

    Salem Booker, who was the son of the witch, knew from a ripe young age that this was no way to live. He wanted his mother to do something, he really did, but he didn't want her to do it in the way that she did. She didn't attack them with hellish fires, like she often threatened, she just gave up and left him alone in the small shack in the middle of the woods. And alone he was, till he met a fellow who was a little more alone than he was.

    He came across the kitten in the woods when he went hunting in the rain. It was only logical to do so in the rain- his tracks and his scent would be untrackable. The kitten was out- abandoned in the cold, for some unknown reason. Possibly because he was entirely blackened. Black was a bad color, and thought was to be one of bad luck and misdoing.

    Salem took the kitten home, and raised him as his own. He named it after his favorite demon, and acted like the father who was never around when he was growing up. His mother used to say it was because he was blind to see how wonderful the magics were. Salem and Belphegor lived in the shack in the woods and never once thought of living anywhere else in the woods.

    They shared each other's food, kept each other warm, and worked with each other through good and bad. Salem looked down at him, and didn't see a feline- or a simple pet, he saw an equal.

    It was a warm day in the month of April when Salem woke up with a start. " Another bad dream? Great. Time to light up the sage. " He muttered to himself, as he slipped and slid out of bed and into his clothing for the day. Salem took in his cigarette from his nightstand, and lit it up. He hated the taste of the filter against his lips, so he simply smoke from a holder.

    Salem looked around the small room that used to be shared by his mother, and called out for his beloved friend. " Belphegor? Belphey, we have work to do. " He called out, as he finished the quick drag he inhaled. He let the smoke rise from his lungs and out of his mouth, and only blew it out when he felt that he needed a breath of fresh air.

    Once he saw his friend, he patted the side of his leg to get his already undivided attention, and smiled. " You ready? Today is a big day. Today is a grand day, for the both of us! " Salem traced his fingers over the cat's spine, and stood up once more. He took another hit of his cigarette, and walked out, with his best friend and partner in crime right at his heels.
     
  2. Belphegor followed his friend out into the wood. More sleep was always tempting, and he wasn't hungry yet, but if Salem said this was a grand day, then he wouldn't want to miss out on that.
    The forest was green with new leaves, but the foliage was still thin enough to allow the Sun to shine through; the fallen leaves were wet with dew and warm with the morning light. The scent of damp earth and plants was pleasantly familiar, mixing with the even more pleasant familiarity of Salem's cigarette smoke: that was the scent of home. A light breeze was playing among the trees, ruffling his fur, and he stretched contentedly, then paraded on. A big, brownish beetle stirred among the fallen leaves and took flight to avoid his footfalls, and he playfully jumped, catching it in his mouth, the wings hanging out of his mouth like a bizarre moustache. He felt strong, he felt brand-new and excited for no good reason; maybe it was just the spring. He decided it was already worth getting up.
    It may be a grand day, he thought, but it definitely is a very good one.
    This forest was more than just where their home stood, it was his hunting territory. The bird singing on that branch overhead would be his prey, if he so wanted. And, of course, if Salem needed more of them, because it was his important, important duty to help Salem, and one he was very proud of. He was the best hunter ever, he always found whatever his two-legged companion needed! He knew as much about magical components as any young sorcerer. Of course he didn't quite know how to use them yet, but he always watched, and every day he learnt something new. He didn't know black cats are said to be magical, he didn't know any but himself; he only faintly remembered his mother and his litter-siblings, and they weren't completely black either. So he couldn't tell that he could see a little more than most, understood a little more than most; after all, he grew up beside a sorcerer, and what was more natural a part of life than magic?
    He turned to his friend and cuddled up to his leg. He could feel tension in him, maybe worry, and he didn't like that. He thought he had heard something about a bad dream earlier, while half-awake; he knew Salem had them sometimes, and he couldn't help with that, but now that they were awake, the bad dreams had to go. He quickly swallowed the last of his insect prey and rubbed his forehead against Salem's leg, purring.
    See, no bad dreams, I'm all right and you're all right, everything is all right!
    Then he raised his round, confident face - who could hope to be more confident than a young tom-cat? - and peered up at him.
    Where are we going, what are we doing today?
     
  3. Salem went into the forest with a confident gaze. All of his hard work would be payed off today! He only needed a few more simple ingredients that were easy to get in a month like this. It showered the night before, and he had plenty of bottles of rain to collect. He felt his friend brush up against his leg, and he leaned down to pat his adorable round face. After the pat, he tapped him in the head with his pointer finger- which was adorned with a claw-like ring, specifically used to rip things more than his fingernails were ever meant too. He was careful, though. He didn't want to hurt the poor companion, he just wanted his attention. " I need you to catch something for me, are you up for the job? " Well, the excited little cat was always up for something! He caught a stag-beetle in flight earlier! " I need you to catch.... a bullfrog! Or any kind of frog would suffice, but make sure it stays alive. Minimal wounds, if you would. You tend to get a little crazy with your murders... Might I remind you of Wheatley? "

    Wheatley was- past tense- was, a bird he kept, in order to take tests on in the future. Salem only kept him because the young bird had a beautiful wingspan and even more beautiful feathers to go with it. And, he was a keeper from the start. The market man only sold him for a few simple things that anyone could find in the woods! It was hard for anyone to not adore little old Wheatley. Well, it was hard for one person- that person, not being a person at all. Salem woke up one morning to the sound of desperate squeaks and caws, whilst good old Belphegor was purring away as he pounced on and over the nearly-dead body.

    " Well, nonetheless, don't kill a single frog you see! Unless it's necessary. But that only applies to the first two of them, got it boy? " With that, Salem gave the cat a good scratch on his head. " That's my boy! " The witch stood up, and took a drag from his cigarette. " Oh, if everything goes well tonight, I'll cook up that buck we got in the woods the other day. It's been marinating to perfection. Tonight, we eat like kings! " Salem nearly clicked his heels in joy at the thought of buck for dinner. And at the thought of something he was going to perfect that day! With that, he advanced forward, as Belphegor went another way. They would meet back at the house when they had everything, and then that was when the real show was going to start.
     
  4. Belphegor tried his best to look remorseful - the way cats do when they know they did something they weren't supposed to but hope they won't be seriously chid anway. Then he happily sauntered away on his hunt. A bullfrog? It was as good as de- ...caught. Caught, of course. Not that it occurred to him to kill it, of course.
    But the hunt was far from everything on his mind. Deer for dinner was an exciting prospect, of course, and it did occupy a hopeful corner of its own in his thoughts, but that wasn't all either. What was more interesting than hunting and deer meat was that anticipation he sensed in the air. He wasn't sure what Salem had in mind, but he did his very best to guess. At first he thought it was because of the first warm spring day, but that couldn't have been it. Then what else? Suddenly it occurred to him. For a long, long time - at least long time for a young and curious cat - Salem had been working on something new, a potion the like of which he hadn't seen before. The other potions he saw him make were ready much faster, and some he even recognised, but not this. But it would have to be ready sooner or later... and it had that air of coming together about him that a tree has at the end of winter, right before the new leaves come out. So is that it? What will it be like? What will it do? How does it work? Is it dangerous? Is it tasty?
    The sight of glistening water in the corner of his eye snapped him out of his reverie and turned him completely back into the hunter he was. He has arrived. This way the forest was slowly turning into a marshland, the ground became ever softer as he progressed, and Belphegor soon started stepping only on the roots, softly as a shadow. This was where frogs lived. He started slowly skirting the water's edge, always staying in the shadow of the underbrush.
    He was in luck today. The warmth drew out the flies, and the flies drew out the frogs. He was so caught up in stalking his prey that he almost walked into one that sat lazily under a leaf. He stopped just soon enough to not alert the prey. Then he pounced.
    What he didn't count on was the softness of the ground. The frog avoided his paws and was now under him, and there was no way he was going to get it in his mouth without taking his weight off of it. He tried to ease up slowly and carefully, but even that little space was enough for the frog to start wiggling out, partially sinking into the marshy ground. He quickly shifted his weight to block its path, but did so too fast: he lost his balance and the prey got away, taking a leap towards the safety of the water.
    This time it was personal. He had to have this one frog, just to show himself he could. He was the best hunter ever, after all! He saw at once that he only had a moment until the frog was out of reach for good, and so he sprung again, paws forward. He knew he was going to land very close to the water, maybe even slip into it, and he didn't like that very much, but he couldn't lose now. Besides, this was a perfect frog. He couldn't have explained - even if he could talk - what a "perfect" frog entailed, but he somehow felt that this frog was perfect for potion component purposes the way a good cook knows whether a certain kind of potato is more suitable for frying or cooking purposes. It just was.
    He fell on it just as it prepared to jump again; this time he caught it under his paws, and managed to catch it in his mouth before he began to slip. A bath was inevitable now. He could swim - though he most definitely didn't like to - but with a bullfrog in his mouth it was not as easy.
    And it was then, as he struggled towards dry land again, that it occurred to him. Maybe it was the taste of the frog's skin in his mouth. Maybe it was the muddy water. It just fell together, that was how the understanding of magical matters usually worked for him. Though he didn't know what it was called, this was inspiration; if he were making potions himself, he would have a theory to test now.
    But the bullfrog started struggling, demanding immediate attention, and he quickly forgot his train of thought. He crawled on dry land as fast as he could and turned back to hastily find Salem again.
     
  5. Salem walked out deep into the woods- the deeper he was, the more rain would be there. He did scatter plenty of bottles and pans around, to make sure he got the perfect amount. As he walked, he checked in all of the pots and pans and bottles and cups that he placed, either on branches or held by a cord. As he checked, he emptied all of the rain into a glass potion bottle, and made sure it was tight with a cork on the top. It was a task, to make sure all of the droplets got into the bottle and none of the rain spilled. Oh, he would probably be in tears if that happened. Who knows when the next rainfall would come! Surely not any time soon, no storm would ever shed rain as pure as this! Oh, rain in the month of April held so many properties, all of which were good and wholesome. That's what it said in all of the books! And Salem was taught to live by the books. If the books called for a drop of blood, so be it! If the books called for a bullfrog as a testing subject, so be it! If the books called for fire, wind, or ice or snow, then so be it!

    The witch sighed. How was he ever going to get all of these back into the house? It was beyond him, but he would do it later. He did need them to cook the deer with, of course! As Salem continued collecting, he found himself nearing the very last of the pots that he placed. Oh, but what a good sign! The put was plum full of the rainwater. It absolutely made Salem squeal in delight! He would have more than enough for the potion, and soon after, he could quite possibly use the rest to boil the deer meat! Oh, he missed his mother's cooking. She always seemed to have rain on hand. As if she could control the weather!

    Salem ran to the pot, and slowly poured the water into his glass. Once it was full to the brim with water, he screwed the cork on tight and let it hang down by his side. It was attached to a chain on his side, somewhat like a satchel. Somewhat, but it was only the glass that he had. And the glass was the last thing he needed! Everything was perfect. Everything was going to turn out exactly how it was in the book! Salem was so proud of himself. He caught onto the magicks so quickly. His mother told him never to use those books till he was twice his own age! Oh, his mother would be so proud of him. If only she saw him now.

    Speaking of seeing, where was that cat of his? Salem scratched at his head and bit on the end of his cigarette holder as he pondered. He was probably already at the house! That quick old thing. Always on the double, even when it isn't proper to be. Salem shrugged, and began to walk back to the shack that he resided in. It was no more than five minutes later when he saw a very dirty feline carrying an even more dirty amfibian in his maw. " Belphegor, oh, you dirty old thing! " Salem chuckled, and walked towards his companion. " Well, I guess it was needed to get the job done. Well done, very well done. You got the best frog! " He said, with a good scratch on his soggy head. " When we get home, I'll draw you a bath. I know how much you detest them, but if you want any supper I must have you looking your sharpest. "

    With that, Salem took the frightened frog from the cat's jaw, and held it nearest him. He needed it live, and bouncing for this. Anything other than that won't go well. A dead subject for a potion that was to bring it into a human form? Nonsense! The last thing he wants is a dead body of a half-amphibious creature lying around!
     
  6. A bath! Belphegor no sooner heard this dreaded word than he sprung towards the house at full speed. Oh, of course he knew he would still have to have one, but he wasn't about to volunteer for it. So it was best to arrive first and hide. It never even occurred to him to hide elsewhere; bath or no bath, that was his home. And if he can just gain enough time to lick himself clean, maybe Salem will forget about it by the time he finds him.
    Sure enough, he got there first, now that he had no frog wrestling with his face. He dashed in the door and glanced around to find a suitable hiding-place.
    And then he saw the potion. Of course he had known it was there, but now he saw it. It was greenish-brown and gleaming with gold firesparks from the low-burning flame that kept it warm, like the marshwater sparkling in the sunlight.
    His thoughts from his hunt in the swamp came back to him. Somehow, with his newfound insight, he knew it wasn't dangerous. He didn't understand it quite yet, but he knew one thing: that this will help him understand. He wouldn't learn anything unless he tries. And, bath and hiding-places forgotten, he hopped up onto the table in one leap.
    He did feel a little bit of fear in all the excitement. But he wasn't going to stop now. He knew very well that it was a bad, bad, bad idea to drink potions that Salem didn't make especially for him, and unfinished ones even more so - he wouldn't have survived in the same household with a witch otherwise -, but he somehow felt good about this. So he tiptoed across the table, careful not to knock over any of the equipment, lowered his nose above the vessel, and found that it didn't taste bad at all.
    He barely noticed the sound of Salem arriving. There was a strange feeling of motion in his head and stomach, a dizziness and a feeling of sinking and rising all at once. He had to stop drinking for fear that he would fall over if he didn't sit down. It wasn't entirely unpleasant... there was a nice sleepiness to it, and it felt good to let go. And in a few seconds he was fast asleep.
     
  7. Salem walked in, with a large grin on his face. He was so excited for this very moment, he had been living up to it for a long while! If this spell was performed correctly, he would know himself as a full fledged witch! Oh, how happy this day was to him. Salem walked in, and placed the rain water on the table. He shoved the frog into a cage, and the amphibian croaked in protest. After he did that, he saw his friend sleeping soundly next to the kettle. He didn't think nothing of it. It was warm, he was cold. He was asleep, and he was lazy. He always slept!

    " Belphegor, you absolutely live up to your demon. " He said to himself, as he walked over and picked up the stinky cat. He took the cat in his arms, and walked to the small bathroom that took up a simply corner of the house. Asleep or not, he was going to get a bath. Salem took the cat, and placed him in the tub. The tub, which was terribly small, could hold one and a half people. If they were tiny persons, of course. Salem placed the cat over near the edge of the bathtub, so that way, by the time the cat woke up, he would atleast be wet. Salem poured some soap in the running water, and let it run at a slow rate.

    Salem then got out of the bathroom and went right to work. He placed his mother's hat atop of his head, and poured the rain water in. It did not very much of magical property, but it simply made it look more appetizing. Salem would have had this ready before, but he wanted to follow every rule in the book to a point. The witch let the sirem boil and bubble, till it turned a beautiful red color. " Oh, yes! " He said, gleefully. Salem looked over the potion, and then turned to the frog. Oh, now it was time to see if it worked out, like in the book.
     
  8. Belphegor woke up to something wet and warm. His first instinct was to clamber away from the wetness as fast as possible, but somehow his body didn't work as he expected it to. It felt different. His sight returned slower than his sense of touch, but he knew he was in the tub, the sound of running water made that more than clear. Since when was this tub so small, however? And why did everything feel so strange, as if he had almost no fur at all? Did somebody shave him?
    By now he could see fairly clearly, and he looked down at his front paws, but they were all wrong. They weren't his paws at all. They looked more like Salem's hands, a little different, and with significantly more mud, but they were still sort of similar in shape. He flexed them as an experiment. He had long fingers now, long and soft fingers that weren't good to walk on. He still had claws, but they were very different, not as curved, and he couldn't pull them back; they were also like Salem's nails, just more pointy. That was strange. He wanted to let out a surprised meow, but his voice was also different, and it sounded like a shout. Momentarily at a loss, he stayed put until he could collect himself, and since he couldn't think of anything better, he started licking the back of his newly different hand and wiping his face. Fortunately he found there was quite a lot of fur still remaining on top of his head.
    But there was no avoiding the conclusion: he resembled Salem now.
     
  9. " Oh, oh oh! This is going to be great! " Salem said to himself, as he opened the cage eagerly and took out the frog. The frog, however, was a little less than happy for this extravagant moment. He took the frog in his hands, and had plans to completely submerge the entire being in the liquid. He had plans for this, but they were all interrupted by a scream. Who did that? Who was in here?!

    Salem, being as scared and disoriented at he was in the moment, almost let the frog go. Well, he almost did, but it slipped from his grasp and almost landed in the brew. It almost landed, and Salem fought to catch it again. It hopped rapidly around the room, much like his thoughts at the very moment. The witch struggled to grab it, but the bullfrog ended up jumping out the window and skedaddling away from the shack as fast as it could.

    " Aerg! " He said, as he slammed his fist on the table. Someone was in here! Someone else, besides himself. Another male? Salem, with his mind racing and his eyes darting about, simply walked over and retrieved his bow and arrows. They were enchanted arrows, made to catch fire as soon as they were shot off. Salem took two arrows in his grasp, and snuck to the bathroom, where the sound of the shout came from.

    Salem, being as scared of strangers as his mother ever was, drew the arrow back and walked with caution. He tip-toed to the bathroom, with only the sound of the floorboards as evidence that he was on the prowl. As he drew nearer, he thought of what he would do to the unwelcomed guest. Kill? No, no. That was the last thing he would do! Well, if they are dangerous, he would obviously have other plans.

    In one quick motion, Salem nearly kicked down the door to the bathroom, and shot an arrow at the first thing he saw. And the first thing, was a very dirty man in the tub. Strange, yes, but still, he was unwelcome! The arrow sliced through the air, and the fire started on the enchanted wood. It flew, and missed the stranger. It was simply inches from his head and neck. As Salem panicked, and tried to mount the arrow, he began shouting.

    " Who are you?! Why are you here?! What do you know?! Are you a spy? I have a weapon- plenty of weapons, and I'm not afraid to use any of them! I'll take you down, and whoever else you have with you!! "
     
  10. Belphegor was almost getting used to his state of being, as far as it was possible to get used to suddenly having a completely different body. At least he was no longer entirely confused about what happened.
    Until Salem burst in, of course.
    Seeing his friend like that was, if possible, a greater shock than suddenly finding himself changed. He had, after all, changed much since he was a kitten, just usually not this fast and not this much. But there was no precedent, ever, on Salem trying to murder him. He found himself unable to find a suitable reaction to that. It didn't even occur to him at first that Salem wouldn't recognize him as he is. So for a second or two he just stared, deserted of all problem-solving skills, then did what he usually did when he wasn't sure what to do: licked his hand and wiped his face once more. This immediately reminded him of the changed situation.
    And only then did he start feeling truly frightened. He can't even use his new body yet, he definitely wouldn't make it on his own in the wilderness, and his only friend, the only family he has doesn't recognize him and apparently thinks he is an enemy. He wanted to explain it somehow, he really did, but he didn't know how to go about it. He lifted his front paw - no, his hand, and pointed in the general direction of the potion through the door... though his hand was shaking so badly that he might as well have pointed at the collection of dried herbs or at the doorframe.
    That was when he realized that he could now cry.
     
  11. This man- this lunatic was positively bonkers! What was he doing? Licking himself? As if he was a cat? Speaking of cat... Where was that damned Belphegor? Did he climb out the window? That was so unlike him... But, he didn't blame him one bit. He would have done the same thing if he were the cat! Salem eyed him watchfully, with an arrow locked dead on him. He saw him point with a very nervous hand, and instinctively he looked.

    What was he trying to get at? There was a few books, some flowers and herbs. And the cage that once held his future human! Oh, how he hated that man for ruining his project. Salem turned back to the man and gave him a quizzical look. He was crying? At a time like this? How insane could this man possibly be?! It was as if he has a minor case of serious brain damage! Salem looked back again and saw the same thing. He also saw.... The brewing stand. Then it hit him like a flaming arrow. He dismounted his bow and arrow, and looked back at the strange man with sadness- as if he was a little child, who had done something wrong... Could it be? " B... Belphegor? "

    Salem slowly walked to him, but he was sure to put the arrow down on the floor. " Belphey, what have you gotten yourself into this time? " He asked him, in almost a hush. He thought he was a stranger. He honestly meant no harm, really! Salem sat near the tub, and slowly brought a hand to his friend- his human friend. " Remarkable... " Salem touched the soft skin on the man's face, and around his neck.

    The potion worked!
     
  12. And just like that, it was suddenly all right again. Is this what it's like to have a bad dream and wake up? Yet Belphegor couldn't stop his tears - although he was now crying in relief. Of course, Salem would never hurt him... And he even understood, and who could want more than that? He nuzzled against the comforting hand and felt at home and safe once again. After a while it occurred to him that he also had a hand now, and clumsily he reached out to stroke Salem's head, as Salem had stroked his so many times.
    Maybe it's not so bad to have a hand.
    He was tired, the transformation and the fright and all the new experiences exhausted him, and he was also really hungry. It occurred to him momentarily that maybe he could try to mention that. He knew many words, Salem had used them all the time, and probably he could now use them too, but he didn't quite know how yet. As he thought about that, it seemed like quite a lot of work... and it was so nice and warm in here. Before he knew it, he was asleep again, leaning against Salem's shoulder.
    He didn't even notice that he was still in the water.
     
  13. Salem was at a loss for words. He did that! He made his cat- his friend, into a real human being!! Salem was so engrossed in his thought, that he didn't even notice that his friend fell asleep. Then, it occurred to him that he never actually saw another human being sleep, besides his mother. He just never saw a human being sleep so peacefully. Even when his mother slept, she looked as if she was plagued with worry and doubt. Salem almost didn't want to leave him.

    But, Salem soon slipped his head away from him, and looked over the large body in the small tub. He was horribly dirty, and he really needed a bath. He needed to learn how to bathe himself. He needed to learn how to walk, and how to eat. Oh, this was going to be a challenge. Salem left the room moment, only to get some clothing for the new human. Some clothing, and a towel. Oh, this was going to be interesting.
     
  14. Belphegor drifted in and out of sleep as the water ran down his body. At some point, when he was almost awake, he noted that it didn't feel as awful to be in the water now that he didn't have as much fur that could get soaked and heavy and uncomfortable. Which was good, because he certainly wasn't going anywhere. So this was why Salem took a bath every day, even when he didn't fall into any mud at all; he had always wondered about that. For the first time in his life he put up no fight whatsoever when being washed.
    Later, when he was almost completely asleep, he thought back on wanting to try the potion. (Awake he never would have thought about his past decisions; after all there was no changing them now, and the only decision worth making lay in the present.) He had thought he would learn something new... didn't he? Well, he was learning now, and that was probably good.
    But then he immediately forgot about that train of thought, because he just made a new discovery again: that if dirt was a bad thing to have about his person, then it made some sense to get the dirt off of oneself without putting it into oneself. This quite woke him up, and he cheerfully sat up and even tried to help - if only out of curiosity.
     
  15. When Salem came back, he saw Belphegor trying to wash at himself. It would be hard getting used to someone who once was a completely different person. Not even the word person could describe him then- he was a completely different being. Salem came back with a fist-full of clothing. The shirt was almost the same as his, but it was just black. Salem avoided wearing heavy clothing, which is probably why he had mostly matching clothing. The pants, however, were different. Unlike the one he was currently wearing, they didn't have a single hole.

    " Heh... I'll have to go to the market and get some more clothes. Never actually thought I would be saying that, to be honest. " He said, with a small smile. He placed the clothing away near the sink, and placed a towel near the tub. He knelt over, and looked over the man in the tub. " Here, use this. " He said, as he took a soft sponge, and put some soap on it. He then proceeded to put some of the soap on the palm of his hand, and then he rubbing it through his hair. Oh lord, it was soft. Inhumanly soft. Maybe he kept some feline characteristics after all. Salem would look over the book later, and try to decipher the rest of it. Was this permanent?
     
  16. Belphegor felt strange and not entirely himself. Obviously, for one thing, he was human-shaped now, but that wasn't all of it. He vaguely remembered that this was what it was like to be a helpless kitten, but he no longer was a kitten and wasn't used to being helpless anymore. And he was most definitely no longer used to not being able to properly do any of the things he tried. Of course it wasn't so bad to need Salem's help, after all they helped each other all the time, but he also should be able to help the witch, as he did just this morning. Temporarily this could change, of course, such as when one of them was sick, so he couldn't help but feel this must be temporary too. Soon he will hunt and jump like no other, and be very-very helpful and proud of himself again. It didn't occur to him to wonder which shape he will do that in.
    The mention of the market frightened him. That was in the village, where they never went if they could help it. Other humans lived there, and he knew that other humans were not a good thing. Why would Salem want to go there and buy more clothes? He did have clothes already...
    And then he realized: these clothes were going on him. Oh, no, no, no. That was an outrageously bad idea. He was not going to have any clothes pulled on him - even in just his imagination they bothered his newly furless skin, and how would he even scratch himself then? As soon as he made that connection he drew in all his limbs as close beside himself as he could, throwing hostile glances in the direction of clothes. Salem often shook his head at him when something he did was bad, so he quickly made use of this memory and shook his head furiously at the garments.
     
  17. Salem continuously scrubbed that the other's head, but he was only interrupted when he felt the head shake in each direction. " No? " He asked him, as he still felt the head shake. What could he possibly be disagreeing to? " No what? " Salem looked around again, and saw the clothing, and he saw the way that he was looking at them. " Oh, Belphegor, you have to wear them. Uh, it's... hard to explain, but people don't take too kindly to people who are nude. "

    " When you had fur, that was alright and you used it to protect yourself. But now, you uh... You have skin now, and you need something to protect that. " Salem then took his hands, and cupped them under the water. Whilst his hands were still cupped, he drew them out of the water and then let the water pour over his companion. " Do close your eyes. Soap hurts when it gets in your eyes. " Salem continued the motion with his hands, until all of the soap was gone from his new hair.

    " I do believe youre clean now. " Salem said, as he drew away from the tub. He felt around for the towel, and once it was in his grasp, he closed his eyes tight. " I know you're against clothing, but I'm begging you to wear them. You see, some people have... Oh, how should I put this? SOME people, have skin that they would rather.... hide. " And with that, Salem stood up, and felt around for the exit. Once he left the room, he opened his eyes, and knocked on the door. " Uh, if you need any help in there, just tell me. "
     
  18. Belphegor was thoroughly confused now. What did he have to protect himself from? It was warm. Or was it from other people? But there weren't any here, well, except for Salem, and he wouldn't hurt him. If some people want to hide some of their skin, they probably have their reasons, even if it sounds strange; but he wasn't one of these people, so why did he have to? Why didn't people like others who had no clothes on? And why did Salem close his eyes, did the soap go in it? It can't have been just because he had no clothes on, because he didn't have any on all along. Being human was proving to be really hard.
    Regardless he resolved he would get it right. So, if only for Salem's sake, he might as well try the offending items on. At least to see what it's like. Salem wears them, so they can't be all that horrible. He'll take them off later. But shoes were out of the question.
    He climbed out of the tub. That took a while, because on the first try he tried to climb out hands first, and that didn't go too well. But soon he succeeded, and sat down on the floor. He dried himself; this was a good opportunity to practice with his new hands.
    So now came the clothes. He felt it his duty to at least glare at them some more before putting them on. There were several different pieces, and he sat down on the floor trying to figure out which went where. It was one thing to remember how Salem wore his, but it wasn't quite as easy to match the pieces of fabric to how they looked when worn. Several times he considered asking for help, but he decided otherwise; it just hurt his pride to need help with something Salem did every morning in a minute. He did quite well, considering everything: only his shirt was inside out.
    Now he was ready. He started towards the door, on hands and feet at first, but that proved uncomfortable, so he decided to try one more new thing and walk on his hind legs only. It took a little balancing, and he kept his hand on the wall at all times to lean against it, but he got out in one piece. His confidence was already coming back.
     
  19. With Salem being alone again, he took it into his own hands to put away the potion. He only made enough for a few tests, and that was just about it. He would bottle the rest up, and put it high on the shelf so that way this casualty could be avoided in the future. Salem got a bottle, and a cork, and then began to switch the location of the potion. As he did so, he couldn't help but wonder how he was ever going to get used to this.

    Salem had always lived alone for most of his life, but when he met Belphegor, he adjusted quickly. Because he really didn't take up that much space. But with his new form, how was he ever going to fit? Oh, he would have to go and get another bed... Lord knew that Salem couldn't share his. He poured the rest of the concoction and sighed. He would probably have to sell some things to get the money. Or he could try Alchemy, and simply make some gold.

    He would have to look into it. As Salem put the now-filled bottle on the shelf, he saw Belphegor walking towards him. He was making so much progress! The shirt was inside out, but at least it was on him. " Hey, how do they fit? Are they comfortable? Will I need to get a bigger size for you? " Salem would have to get a disguise to go into the market with. An eyepatch, and maybe a mouth-cover. That would work, he would look dangerous but no one would question him.
     
  20. So many questions. Belphegor could see that it was high time to learn to talk so he could answer, but he wanted to be alone for that, in case it doesn't go well. But it wouldn't be any use now, because he couldn't have answered these anyway. He didn't really know how clothes were supposed to feel, and highly doubted that they could be half as comfortable as walking around naked. They will have to talk about that. He really wanted Salem to explain this whole idea.
    There it was, speech, again. And anyway, he was curious about it. Time to experiment.
    He turned around, carefully switching his hands on the wall but never quite letting go, and balanced his way out the front door. The stairs leading up to the door seemed so strangely little now. The whole house did. He sat down and took several deep breaths. What was an easy and useful word he could start with? "Salem" came to mind. He tried to pronounce it, but what came out of his mouth sounded more like a sneeze. He tried a few more times, and failed each time in a different way. How does one even learn to make a certain sound? He didn't remember how he learned to meow and purr.
     
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