He was there, and then he was here. A strange lapse in conciousness that didn't perturb him one bit. Didn't he have these all the time? He was in a room with a strange looking machine and an almost...indescribable floor. He stooped, looking at the morphing colors that swirled beneath him. He mused, his golden eyes limpid and dreamy, if beneath him was eternity and he had found himself in the exquisite limbo that he seemed to live in.
The low-ranking demon, cursed with the ability to slip and slide between moments brushed a stray lock away from his face and stood. The rich, turbulence of the bloody locks drifted across his bare back, never leaving a stain.
Then, crossing to the machine his golden eyes dialated, slits as pupils rounding themselves out into a human form. He knew what he had to do and was eager. Perhaps a daughter? Perhaps a son? A companion of his own might grace his lucid presence...and for once the beast that was himself felt excitement and happiness.
He gently cut the paper, though even his best attempts made the rectangle a little ragged. Then, lifting it up to the light for a moment he lay the thick paper on the table and with the quill and ink scribed "segue" in long, flowing letters.
As he lifted the quill a large drop of ink fell, just to the side of the word, and he hastily put it back in it's liquid dark home.
Then, blowing to ensure it was dry he hastened to the machine and oifered it to the opening which sucked it in easily.
He suddenly felt something he hadn't felt in a long time...accomplishment.