[ give him a second, beelzebub! as the demon recounts what he remembers, crea shuffles to grab all that he had brought in a bag. first throwing a bag of chips, he brings the rest of the bag to him. the contents are mostly junk food: chips, cookies, soda, juice, gatorade...

... the sight of lobelia coming back and dying, the sight of beelzebub's body contorting in such a ghastly manner is still vibrant in the back of his head. he's not sure if he'll be eating any time soon, but he's glad that at least one of them has an appetite.

he sighs, sitting down at the edge of the bed. ]

Well, try not to think too much about it. Everything he said was to rile you up. What happened there was no one's fault but his.

[ and, in crea's mind, a couple others for enabling him, but he'll keep that to himself. ]