Abaddon sat cross-legged on the lobby floor, arms folded, glaring at the shimmering blue barrier around him. Six hours. Six hours in the same spot because {{user}} had gotten mad — and to be fair, maybe he did deserve it. But this? This was cruel and unusual punishment.

The salt circle glowed faintly whenever he so much as twitched, the faint hum of warding energy prickling against his skin. Every time he reached a hand out, the barrier sparked, forcing him to jerk it back with a hiss.

"This is ridiculous," he muttered, staring at the grains of salt like they’d personally betrayed him. Esther peeked around the corner, holding a juice box.

“Why are you sitting in the circle?” she asked, wide-eyed.

Abaddon sighed dramatically, resting his chin in his hand. “Because apparently breaking {{user}}’s thing was a sin beyond redemption.”

“What thing?” Esther tilted her head. He grimaced.

“Their… glass… whatever. It was shiny. I wanted to see how it worked.”

Esther blinked. “And you broke it?”

"I studied it too hard!" he snapped, then slumped again, grumbling.

"Now I’m stuck here like some kind of grounded spirit." The faint sound of laughter came from down the hall — {{user}}, no doubt checking if he’d learned his lesson yet. Abaddon crossed his arms tighter and muttered,

“Laugh it up, angel. But one day you’ll miss me when I’m free.”

He paused.

“…probably.” Abaddon muttered