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Contract with a Demon
- Thread starter Constant Temptation
- Start date
Lucyfer
Said you'd die for me, well -- there's the ground
There were many things that Damia Starling had been taught, not to use, but to recognize. “If you ever see these things, Dame,” her father had always began, “destroy it immediately. Act quickly.”
“If you ever hear these words.”
“If….”
It was never said, “If you have no other options,” but it was heavily implied. When Damia looked at the dead, when she looked at the burnt, she understood she had two options. The first, the obvious, was to break down and cry. After all, Damia had just lost everything. Her family, her home—everything but her life.
Before that moment, the blonde Marquise of Exeter had never taken a life. Her hands shook with the blood on them, and her legs flinched as the charred bits of her once-white and blue dress touched them. Her hair was a mess with a branch or two left in it from when she’d been taken.
The other option, the less obvious option, was to move forward and find answers. To grasp at the power in the room of death and fresh souls, and to use it to open a way to the realm Beyond. Those who could have answered her here, were now dead, but they were working for someone. Damia had no doubts about that. She was a Lady, after all, and she could recognize minions when they were in front of her eyes.
It would not be as simple as walking through the door and going to the police, though. These people had been killing others—those of the Guilds Melchoir, Gaspar, and Balthazar. If she walked through that door, she would be without a hope. The Guilds were failing to get answers. She could not count on them now.
If she wanted to walk out that door, she was going to need something more.
There was a reason her father told her to act fast if she ever saw the symbols she was creating on the floor. If she ever saw the broken mirror. If she ever saw a soul rise from a body, bidden by words, and then destroy itself to create the bridge between Earth and Hell.
Anyone who summoned a demon did not do so lightly; the destruction of a soul had to be a sin that Heaven frowned upon. After all, it denied that soul an afterlife. It used the raw power of the soul, a thing supposedly created by divine hands, individually crafted, to make a passage between Earth and the other planes of existence.
How people managed to do it by mistake, Damia would never know. Likely, they used animals.
A human soul, though…that ought to entice a demon worthy of her own attentions. Dame had no time to meddle with petty demons, minions of other minions—no, she wanted someone powerful. As all the lights began to dim around her, she fixed her green eyes calmly forward to where the shards of the mirror were, knowing the opening would arise through them. She might not be able to see anything by then, but she did not intend to be caught off guard. As such, one hand firmly gripped one of the knives she’d stolen. It wouldn’t help her much with a demon, but it might give her a moment, a second, if the demon decided not to play along.
‘There’s enough protection. I drew enough protection.’
Dame certainly hoped she had. She had never done this before, but her confidence didn’t waver. It couldn’t—she couldn’t risk appearing fragile or weak before a demon.
“If you ever hear these words.”
“If….”
It was never said, “If you have no other options,” but it was heavily implied. When Damia looked at the dead, when she looked at the burnt, she understood she had two options. The first, the obvious, was to break down and cry. After all, Damia had just lost everything. Her family, her home—everything but her life.
Before that moment, the blonde Marquise of Exeter had never taken a life. Her hands shook with the blood on them, and her legs flinched as the charred bits of her once-white and blue dress touched them. Her hair was a mess with a branch or two left in it from when she’d been taken.
The other option, the less obvious option, was to move forward and find answers. To grasp at the power in the room of death and fresh souls, and to use it to open a way to the realm Beyond. Those who could have answered her here, were now dead, but they were working for someone. Damia had no doubts about that. She was a Lady, after all, and she could recognize minions when they were in front of her eyes.
It would not be as simple as walking through the door and going to the police, though. These people had been killing others—those of the Guilds Melchoir, Gaspar, and Balthazar. If she walked through that door, she would be without a hope. The Guilds were failing to get answers. She could not count on them now.
If she wanted to walk out that door, she was going to need something more.
There was a reason her father told her to act fast if she ever saw the symbols she was creating on the floor. If she ever saw the broken mirror. If she ever saw a soul rise from a body, bidden by words, and then destroy itself to create the bridge between Earth and Hell.
Anyone who summoned a demon did not do so lightly; the destruction of a soul had to be a sin that Heaven frowned upon. After all, it denied that soul an afterlife. It used the raw power of the soul, a thing supposedly created by divine hands, individually crafted, to make a passage between Earth and the other planes of existence.
How people managed to do it by mistake, Damia would never know. Likely, they used animals.
A human soul, though…that ought to entice a demon worthy of her own attentions. Dame had no time to meddle with petty demons, minions of other minions—no, she wanted someone powerful. As all the lights began to dim around her, she fixed her green eyes calmly forward to where the shards of the mirror were, knowing the opening would arise through them. She might not be able to see anything by then, but she did not intend to be caught off guard. As such, one hand firmly gripped one of the knives she’d stolen. It wouldn’t help her much with a demon, but it might give her a moment, a second, if the demon decided not to play along.
‘There’s enough protection. I drew enough protection.’
Dame certainly hoped she had. She had never done this before, but her confidence didn’t waver. It couldn’t—she couldn’t risk appearing fragile or weak before a demon.
Constant Temptation
New Member
"Such a poor dear," whispered the demon from his chambers. Within a black whimsical frame that hung upon a wall, Zephyr found his new target. The frame acted as a mirror into the human realm, an artifact that Zephyr invented himself. While other demons could only feel senses of offerings, the soul taker could actually witness the altar that called to him. Some claimed him a fool, others curious as to how he did it. Not that any of the cowards asked him about it. All of the other demons- both upper and lowers, ignored him. His own father found him to be a disgrace. However, that never stopped the cunning trickster from playing his little games with the humans.
Long, bony fingers reached out to the image, feeling the sense of pain from the woman. "I feel your sorrow, but I hope you know that won't stop me from playing my game," he whispered. A sly grin formed on his face, showing his slightly pointed teeth. He had no idea what she wanted- not yet anyways, but as the circle was complete, Zephyr felt his body rip from the demon realm.
He landed in the middle of the altar on both knees, his back arched over to his his face. Inky black strands fallen over his face, hidden form view as he collected his strength. It was never easy being called to the human realm. The protection of the circle would hold at least until he gained his full strength. Hopefully by then they would have a deal- for Zephyr never enjoyed testing the barriers of spells.
A long, dramatic groan bubbled through the demon's lips as he pulled himself up. "Uuughhh, that never gets easier," he sighed as his hand came to rub against his shoulders. His body was lanky- thin and delicate looking. However there was a pulse of power echoing from his body that could not be missed. His tongue slowly ran along his lower lip at the sight of Damia. His interest clear within his eyes.
"Ah, Hello mistress." His upper body bent into a low bow. His mission flooding through his mind the moment he came to be. She was offering her own soul in order for his help in tracking down murderers. He almost let a mock laugh slip through, but he caught himself. This was far too easy!
As he lifted himself into an upright position, the corner of his lip twitched into a smirk. "My name is Zephyr, the soul collector. You wished for a demon, and I am now at your service until the very end." Red eyes slowly faded into a dark navy blue. It was the first sign he was fitting into his 'human' role there in the human realm.
He took the woman in and admired her desire to get answers. That part he would take seriously... A deal was a deal when it came to Zephyr.
Long, bony fingers reached out to the image, feeling the sense of pain from the woman. "I feel your sorrow, but I hope you know that won't stop me from playing my game," he whispered. A sly grin formed on his face, showing his slightly pointed teeth. He had no idea what she wanted- not yet anyways, but as the circle was complete, Zephyr felt his body rip from the demon realm.
He landed in the middle of the altar on both knees, his back arched over to his his face. Inky black strands fallen over his face, hidden form view as he collected his strength. It was never easy being called to the human realm. The protection of the circle would hold at least until he gained his full strength. Hopefully by then they would have a deal- for Zephyr never enjoyed testing the barriers of spells.
A long, dramatic groan bubbled through the demon's lips as he pulled himself up. "Uuughhh, that never gets easier," he sighed as his hand came to rub against his shoulders. His body was lanky- thin and delicate looking. However there was a pulse of power echoing from his body that could not be missed. His tongue slowly ran along his lower lip at the sight of Damia. His interest clear within his eyes.
"Ah, Hello mistress." His upper body bent into a low bow. His mission flooding through his mind the moment he came to be. She was offering her own soul in order for his help in tracking down murderers. He almost let a mock laugh slip through, but he caught himself. This was far too easy!
As he lifted himself into an upright position, the corner of his lip twitched into a smirk. "My name is Zephyr, the soul collector. You wished for a demon, and I am now at your service until the very end." Red eyes slowly faded into a dark navy blue. It was the first sign he was fitting into his 'human' role there in the human realm.
He took the woman in and admired her desire to get answers. That part he would take seriously... A deal was a deal when it came to Zephyr.
Lucyfer
Said you'd die for me, well -- there's the ground
Though the room was dark, Damia could see the figure as it appeared and hunched. It seemed quite human, but the aura and the chill that followed indicated it was anything but. Even so, she remained resolute, back straight and eyes forward, as the creature picked itself up from the floor and voiced its complaint.
‘Good.’ She was not getting some novice demon, unused to these sorts of things. Just a hint of a smirk played at the left side of her mouth as she took in the creature’s chosen form. They were master manipulators, so she had anticipated already the form would be either something horrific or something beautiful.
Beautiful fit the world and her plans better.
Beautiful could get far more done in the circles she moved in.
He did not look English, though, but more like someone of the Orient. His red eyes were another oddity, but he played it off. He bowed, he introduced himself, mimicking human manners well. The red eyes became blue, an even more exotic color considering the human disguise he wore. “My name is Countess Damia Starling,” she introduced. Normally, she would offer her hand to shake.
Now was not the time for that, though. Though Zephyr was interested in the deal, it had not been solidified. Not yet. “I have called for you, and I am looking to make a deal, but there will be stipulations so that we are both clear on the rules. I offer my soul, Soul Collector,” he had introduced himself with that as if it were a title, “in exchange for your assistance in taking revenge on all those behind the demise of my family, and others in my Guilds,” she could explain that later. “When that has been accomplished, you may have my soul. However, during this period, I make one request of you while you are in service to me: you will not lie to me.”
She wanted that written into the deal at the outset. “I’ll add that you may also obtain my soul if I choose to forgo our deal, either by attempting to give up on it, or by attempting suicide,” something for him, since she would be binding him to honesty. She doubted either would ever happen, but just in case…
She was a business woman, after all. It came with being Noble. She hated those who tried to find loopholes or who didn’t go through on their end. She didn’t intend to mimic them. “Are there any terms or stipulations you would like to add, Zephyr?”
‘Good.’ She was not getting some novice demon, unused to these sorts of things. Just a hint of a smirk played at the left side of her mouth as she took in the creature’s chosen form. They were master manipulators, so she had anticipated already the form would be either something horrific or something beautiful.
Beautiful fit the world and her plans better.
Beautiful could get far more done in the circles she moved in.
He did not look English, though, but more like someone of the Orient. His red eyes were another oddity, but he played it off. He bowed, he introduced himself, mimicking human manners well. The red eyes became blue, an even more exotic color considering the human disguise he wore. “My name is Countess Damia Starling,” she introduced. Normally, she would offer her hand to shake.
Now was not the time for that, though. Though Zephyr was interested in the deal, it had not been solidified. Not yet. “I have called for you, and I am looking to make a deal, but there will be stipulations so that we are both clear on the rules. I offer my soul, Soul Collector,” he had introduced himself with that as if it were a title, “in exchange for your assistance in taking revenge on all those behind the demise of my family, and others in my Guilds,” she could explain that later. “When that has been accomplished, you may have my soul. However, during this period, I make one request of you while you are in service to me: you will not lie to me.”
She wanted that written into the deal at the outset. “I’ll add that you may also obtain my soul if I choose to forgo our deal, either by attempting to give up on it, or by attempting suicide,” something for him, since she would be binding him to honesty. She doubted either would ever happen, but just in case…
She was a business woman, after all. It came with being Noble. She hated those who tried to find loopholes or who didn’t go through on their end. She didn’t intend to mimic them. “Are there any terms or stipulations you would like to add, Zephyr?”
Constant Temptation
New Member
The soul collector gave Damia his full attention. After all, should the deal go through, he would be fully in her service as long as the contract remained open. As her demon servant she could ask anything of him and he would have to obey.... As long as it remained within the limits of their deal, of course. Zephyr make note of every single rule a human made, finding loopholes and sucking up their soul before he had to make good on his end. It was why so many called him by his other nickname, the trickster.
However, Damia seemed to find a way around all those little loopholes he toyed with. It took everything in his power to remain composed, although a small scowl did appear upon his smooth features. It was gone as quickly as it appeared- fading when Zephyr dipped into another bow.
"As you wish, my lady Damia." He spoke through gritted teeth, annoyed by her already. "I shall faithfully be honest with as I fulfill our contract."
'Still, I suppose this will work as a good challenge for me,' he thought to himself. It wasn't as if demons couldn't be honest creatures. They just chose not to be. Zephyr often took pride in his silver tongue.
He pulled himself up from his bow with a cheshire grin. The face he wore held many emotions. It ranged from serious and composed to youthful and innocent.
"Demons do not exactly make terms, my lady." He folded his arms across his chest, walking right up to the edge of the invisible barrier that kept them from touching. Strange blue eyes stared at her thoughtfully. "You will accept my methods tracking down these mysterious figures." After all... she called upon a demon to help her; she couldn't expect him to be moral about doing it. The dang woman already asked him to be honest with her about it...
However, Damia seemed to find a way around all those little loopholes he toyed with. It took everything in his power to remain composed, although a small scowl did appear upon his smooth features. It was gone as quickly as it appeared- fading when Zephyr dipped into another bow.
"As you wish, my lady Damia." He spoke through gritted teeth, annoyed by her already. "I shall faithfully be honest with as I fulfill our contract."
'Still, I suppose this will work as a good challenge for me,' he thought to himself. It wasn't as if demons couldn't be honest creatures. They just chose not to be. Zephyr often took pride in his silver tongue.
He pulled himself up from his bow with a cheshire grin. The face he wore held many emotions. It ranged from serious and composed to youthful and innocent.
"Demons do not exactly make terms, my lady." He folded his arms across his chest, walking right up to the edge of the invisible barrier that kept them from touching. Strange blue eyes stared at her thoughtfully. "You will accept my methods tracking down these mysterious figures." After all... she called upon a demon to help her; she couldn't expect him to be moral about doing it. The dang woman already asked him to be honest with her about it...
Lucyfer
Said you'd die for me, well -- there's the ground
The scowl that briefly marred the demon’s face was enough for Damia to know she had spoken well. Her own lips hinted at a smirk that didn’t rise when he spoke through gritted teeth, agreeing. ‘This is going to be easy.’ Zephyr was not used to her kind, to people who clearly knew what they were doing.
Then again, considering that one could only trade their soul once, it wasn’t exactly a common occurrence to practice for.
He stepped to the edge of the barrier, and she tilted her head up to more easily meet his gaze. “I will accept your methods, so long as they do not reveal your nature, or the nature of our deal, to the public eye without my express permission.” Damia had useful contacts she could not yet risk ostracizing, “I assure you, it will make things easier for us both if we do not draw the wrong attention. I am not the only one who knows of your kind here,” she stepped closer to her own barrier, “I work with others who have the means to destroy us both. Doubt it if you like. It will still make this easier if we avoid their wrath.”
She did not care if he doubted it, so long as he consented to that last bit.
There might come a time when his nature had to be known, and she would pick her revenge over her ties to the Guilds. After all, her life was forfeit—but to keep things easy, and avoid having the Guilds hunting her alongside whoever took her family out, this was a necessary evil to endure. “Agreed?” Her hand reached to the barrier, fingers touching it.
It would break with his agreement. He would be able to reach out then and actually come into the human realm without fear of repulsion back to Hell.
It would repel him if he disagreed, and Damia would know then she’d have to act fast if he wanted to still lay claim to her soul without a contract in place.
Then again, considering that one could only trade their soul once, it wasn’t exactly a common occurrence to practice for.
He stepped to the edge of the barrier, and she tilted her head up to more easily meet his gaze. “I will accept your methods, so long as they do not reveal your nature, or the nature of our deal, to the public eye without my express permission.” Damia had useful contacts she could not yet risk ostracizing, “I assure you, it will make things easier for us both if we do not draw the wrong attention. I am not the only one who knows of your kind here,” she stepped closer to her own barrier, “I work with others who have the means to destroy us both. Doubt it if you like. It will still make this easier if we avoid their wrath.”
She did not care if he doubted it, so long as he consented to that last bit.
There might come a time when his nature had to be known, and she would pick her revenge over her ties to the Guilds. After all, her life was forfeit—but to keep things easy, and avoid having the Guilds hunting her alongside whoever took her family out, this was a necessary evil to endure. “Agreed?” Her hand reached to the barrier, fingers touching it.
It would break with his agreement. He would be able to reach out then and actually come into the human realm without fear of repulsion back to Hell.
It would repel him if he disagreed, and Damia would know then she’d have to act fast if he wanted to still lay claim to her soul without a contract in place.
Constant Temptation
New Member
Ah! It was the first moment that the two of them were in agreement since they met a few moments ago. Surely that was a good sign!
Zephyr, infamous within his own demon realm, was an invisible figure to the humans. Not even the family and friends of the poor souls he tricked into collecting knew it was a demon who killed them even with his long durations in the this realm. 'Magical creatures' came closest to finding out who he was, but the demon made sure to not piss any of them off by taking their souls. They were already killing each other that he found no need to all more fuel to the fire. Not to mention they held power beyond the humans...
If one asked what Zephyr's true desires were, it would be to remain in this realm with power. He knew so much about it, manipulating the humans to teach him more. Yet he could not stay there without a human binding him to their soul. The moment Zephyr took it, he was banished back to his own realm.
Damia seemed smart. She already slithered her cunning knowledge into the contract. Perhaps he could use her to find a way to keep him in the realm with his power intact. It was win/win really. Even if she couldn't, he would still eat her soul when the contract was finished and eventually he would find another human to bond with.
For now, Zephyr needed to keep his power and identity a secret from this realm. Too much exposure could link him back to his past... 'Murders' or simply get him into trouble.
"I'm merely a shadow in your service," his suave ability to blend in was something he could easily prove to his new master. In fact, he was pleased to show her. He also understood his place as a demon servant despite his own selfish desires. She was, in the end, his puppet master. He would have to obey all she asked for while the contract was intact.
The moment he agreed the barrier faded and the circle broke free. Zephyr took in the scent of the room, feeling sweet joy with his return.
A smooth honey toned hand reached out for Damia's. He pulled her hand towards his lips, placing a tender kiss upon the back of it. Like magic, he looked more human than ever. She would be able to trace small hints of his power, but otherwise Zephyr looked (both physically and spiritually) perfectly human. Except for those exotic blue eyes.
Right now Damia was in power among her people... But Zephyr couldn't help but grin at his knowledge of her vulnerability. She would now carry the knowledge that her life was on a short leash.
Zephyr, infamous within his own demon realm, was an invisible figure to the humans. Not even the family and friends of the poor souls he tricked into collecting knew it was a demon who killed them even with his long durations in the this realm. 'Magical creatures' came closest to finding out who he was, but the demon made sure to not piss any of them off by taking their souls. They were already killing each other that he found no need to all more fuel to the fire. Not to mention they held power beyond the humans...
If one asked what Zephyr's true desires were, it would be to remain in this realm with power. He knew so much about it, manipulating the humans to teach him more. Yet he could not stay there without a human binding him to their soul. The moment Zephyr took it, he was banished back to his own realm.
Damia seemed smart. She already slithered her cunning knowledge into the contract. Perhaps he could use her to find a way to keep him in the realm with his power intact. It was win/win really. Even if she couldn't, he would still eat her soul when the contract was finished and eventually he would find another human to bond with.
For now, Zephyr needed to keep his power and identity a secret from this realm. Too much exposure could link him back to his past... 'Murders' or simply get him into trouble.
"I'm merely a shadow in your service," his suave ability to blend in was something he could easily prove to his new master. In fact, he was pleased to show her. He also understood his place as a demon servant despite his own selfish desires. She was, in the end, his puppet master. He would have to obey all she asked for while the contract was intact.
The moment he agreed the barrier faded and the circle broke free. Zephyr took in the scent of the room, feeling sweet joy with his return.
A smooth honey toned hand reached out for Damia's. He pulled her hand towards his lips, placing a tender kiss upon the back of it. Like magic, he looked more human than ever. She would be able to trace small hints of his power, but otherwise Zephyr looked (both physically and spiritually) perfectly human. Except for those exotic blue eyes.
Right now Damia was in power among her people... But Zephyr couldn't help but grin at his knowledge of her vulnerability. She would now carry the knowledge that her life was on a short leash.
Lucyfer
Said you'd die for me, well -- there's the ground
‘The Judas Kiss.’
It was the first thing to cross Damia’s mind as her hand was taken, not to be shook, but to be kissed. It was fitting, this way. The deal was set, and all intentions were laid bare. Damia’s soul was sold, and the demon had agreed to her commands. No doubt, she left something out, but if it was necessary it would be addressed.
With the lies and the necessity of hiding covered, Damia was not terribly concerned about what could go wrong from there. It would be minor inconveniences.
Zephyr grinned as her hand was lowered, and she met it, seeing the knowledge in his own grin. ‘Yes. I know.’ Their relationship would be hers to control, only until the end. Then the tables would turn dramatically. She didn’t know how death would be, but she would hold no expectations that it would be a pleasant experience. After all, Zephyr was bound to get fed up with being controlled.
She certainly would. “I am glad that we see eye to eye on this, Zephyr. If you do not have a surname, we will need to craft one for you. In this time, they are used frequently in addressing people of my status, and thus, my…employees.”
The woman slid her hand out of his, and stepped back, “Right now there are only two things on the agenda: to burn this place,” she gestured out at the room, at the bodies, “so that the police find it, and then to wait for them.” No doubt the captain would arrive, and one of the Gaspar guild would come with him.
From there she could step back into her position easily enough. Getting a meeting with the Queen would be easier if one of the guilds vouched that she was, in fact, still alive despite how she had been missing for a while, and no doubt, presumed dead.
It was the first thing to cross Damia’s mind as her hand was taken, not to be shook, but to be kissed. It was fitting, this way. The deal was set, and all intentions were laid bare. Damia’s soul was sold, and the demon had agreed to her commands. No doubt, she left something out, but if it was necessary it would be addressed.
With the lies and the necessity of hiding covered, Damia was not terribly concerned about what could go wrong from there. It would be minor inconveniences.
Zephyr grinned as her hand was lowered, and she met it, seeing the knowledge in his own grin. ‘Yes. I know.’ Their relationship would be hers to control, only until the end. Then the tables would turn dramatically. She didn’t know how death would be, but she would hold no expectations that it would be a pleasant experience. After all, Zephyr was bound to get fed up with being controlled.
She certainly would. “I am glad that we see eye to eye on this, Zephyr. If you do not have a surname, we will need to craft one for you. In this time, they are used frequently in addressing people of my status, and thus, my…employees.”
The woman slid her hand out of his, and stepped back, “Right now there are only two things on the agenda: to burn this place,” she gestured out at the room, at the bodies, “so that the police find it, and then to wait for them.” No doubt the captain would arrive, and one of the Gaspar guild would come with him.
From there she could step back into her position easily enough. Getting a meeting with the Queen would be easier if one of the guilds vouched that she was, in fact, still alive despite how she had been missing for a while, and no doubt, presumed dead.
Constant Temptation
New Member
From that point on the two would share a strange and mythical bond. Not only would Zephyr help her seek revenge, but he would also protect her from the beings who are clearly trying to kill all the guilds. An invisible string would tie them together; no matter where she was, he would find her.
"A surname..." His past experiences with this realm were not so dramatic. He only needed to show himself to the ones who called him, thus it was never a necessity for him to take on a surname. "Underwood..." It was the name of a soul he had taken from a boy years ago. It was risky taking on a name that he had a relationship with, but it was so common no one would think any different. It would have to do."Fitting, don't you think?" He winked.
His arms folded across his chest, examining the room carefully. Burning it down would not be hard and he found it amusing how Damia was so willing to start her mission with a bang. "As you wish, m'lady. I shall get things started quickly." For now he would simply do her bidding for her, but eventually he would need to know the details. People were being hunted... Which meant that who ever did this was passionate and got to know their victims. He wondered if this could be a job from the inside."
"A surname..." His past experiences with this realm were not so dramatic. He only needed to show himself to the ones who called him, thus it was never a necessity for him to take on a surname. "Underwood..." It was the name of a soul he had taken from a boy years ago. It was risky taking on a name that he had a relationship with, but it was so common no one would think any different. It would have to do."Fitting, don't you think?" He winked.
His arms folded across his chest, examining the room carefully. Burning it down would not be hard and he found it amusing how Damia was so willing to start her mission with a bang. "As you wish, m'lady. I shall get things started quickly." For now he would simply do her bidding for her, but eventually he would need to know the details. People were being hunted... Which meant that who ever did this was passionate and got to know their victims. He wondered if this could be a job from the inside."
Lucyfer
Said you'd die for me, well -- there's the ground
Zephyr Underwood it would be. Damia rolled her eyes at the question. “Underfoot might be better,” so far as fitting went. Underwood would work, though. It was English enough, even though he was not.
The order to burn the place down was taken, and Damia nodded, “I shall be outside. We’ll have time to talk before anyone arrives,” she imagined there were details to go over, things left unspoken on both ends…but then, they were both creatures of business. That was only to be expected in ensnaring each other in their own traps.
Damia went to the door and stepped out, feeling the chill air against her skin. ‘How long?’ But she shook her head. Time had not quite escaped her. She knew she had been a captive longer than a week, but she did not think seasons had changed just yet. It was just an unusually chilly night. It would make the fire feel nice, especially with the misting rain that was falling around them. ‘Where am I?’
As she stepped away from the building she looked around, recognizing she was a bit far from home. She was in London proper, after all. She couldn’t mistake the Tower for anything else.
The order to burn the place down was taken, and Damia nodded, “I shall be outside. We’ll have time to talk before anyone arrives,” she imagined there were details to go over, things left unspoken on both ends…but then, they were both creatures of business. That was only to be expected in ensnaring each other in their own traps.
Damia went to the door and stepped out, feeling the chill air against her skin. ‘How long?’ But she shook her head. Time had not quite escaped her. She knew she had been a captive longer than a week, but she did not think seasons had changed just yet. It was just an unusually chilly night. It would make the fire feel nice, especially with the misting rain that was falling around them. ‘Where am I?’
As she stepped away from the building she looked around, recognizing she was a bit far from home. She was in London proper, after all. She couldn’t mistake the Tower for anything else.
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Constant Temptation
New Member
Zephyr gave a small wrinkle and a scoff. "Underfoot?" His brow arched. "Well, that's a little rude." Still, the corner of his lips quirked into a smirk. He was a demon... not a slave. Contract or not, one day he would find a way to remain in this realm without needing a human to bind him. For now, he simply played along... not that he couldn't. They both knew she was technically right. He was her servant.
He let her leave then, watching her escape the prison she was trapped in for... how long he didn't know. His eyes trailed along the floor and walls, letting the scent of blood hit his nose for the first time. Something that he did understand was desperation.
Humans were a fascinating race, capable of doing powerful things in moments of chaos. Killing, calling upon a demon, turning your back on the people you love... It was why he loved them so much and took every contract he could. So many assumed them to be weak- and of course, at times they were (he did eat souls after all), but they were also beautiful.
Zephyr gathered the materials he needed to start the fire. He was a demon... and in a sense had a level of magical abitlies, although only the humans ever called it magic. He simply had powers... powers to destroy. A wave of his hand began the small spark of flames, licking at the pile of wood and gasoline around the room. His hands dived into the pile, picking up charred ashes... some for him, and some for his mistress. Then he simply stood there for a moment, admiring his work of art before running up the stairs- only looking back once to the demonic circle he came from. A smile formed over his lips, hoping that it would be the last time he came out of one.
As he ran up to the surface, his eyes found Damia instantly. She was brave, he couldn't deny that, but she had her work cut out for her now. Not only was she tied to a demon, but she was tied to HIM. The moment he came close to her, hsi hand went wiping the soot from the fire down in the cellar onto her face and clothes. "Appologies, M'lady," he would say wether she squirmed or not. "But can't let it look like you escaped without harm." He noticed the blood stil on her as well. Perfect. She looked like a mess- a survivor, but a mess for certain.
"Are you sure you want to make it public you're alive? It could be a trator of the guilds... They could be coming here under the disguise as an ally."
He let her leave then, watching her escape the prison she was trapped in for... how long he didn't know. His eyes trailed along the floor and walls, letting the scent of blood hit his nose for the first time. Something that he did understand was desperation.
Humans were a fascinating race, capable of doing powerful things in moments of chaos. Killing, calling upon a demon, turning your back on the people you love... It was why he loved them so much and took every contract he could. So many assumed them to be weak- and of course, at times they were (he did eat souls after all), but they were also beautiful.
Zephyr gathered the materials he needed to start the fire. He was a demon... and in a sense had a level of magical abitlies, although only the humans ever called it magic. He simply had powers... powers to destroy. A wave of his hand began the small spark of flames, licking at the pile of wood and gasoline around the room. His hands dived into the pile, picking up charred ashes... some for him, and some for his mistress. Then he simply stood there for a moment, admiring his work of art before running up the stairs- only looking back once to the demonic circle he came from. A smile formed over his lips, hoping that it would be the last time he came out of one.
As he ran up to the surface, his eyes found Damia instantly. She was brave, he couldn't deny that, but she had her work cut out for her now. Not only was she tied to a demon, but she was tied to HIM. The moment he came close to her, hsi hand went wiping the soot from the fire down in the cellar onto her face and clothes. "Appologies, M'lady," he would say wether she squirmed or not. "But can't let it look like you escaped without harm." He noticed the blood stil on her as well. Perfect. She looked like a mess- a survivor, but a mess for certain.
"Are you sure you want to make it public you're alive? It could be a trator of the guilds... They could be coming here under the disguise as an ally."
Lucyfer
Said you'd die for me, well -- there's the ground
It did not take long for the demon to start the fire, but Damia did not really think it would. She waited a few steps away, hands clasped behind her back, hardly looking as weak as she ought to considering the situation. Her nerves were still being fed by adrenaline, and noble pride would never allow her to look weak.
Soon enough, the demon came through the doors and went right to her, brushing ash and soot down over her clothing and face, her hair. Her fists clenched and she took a step back in reaction, before it dawned on her what he was doing. ‘Right. I’ve now escaped a fire.’ It wasn’t enough that she was injured if there was a fire, she had to look like she’d come from it. Even so, she wiped the back of her hand by her lips to remove the sudden and terrible taste of ash.
“Understood,” she grumbled, pleased by his foresight, but not by his lack of explanation before the action.
As he questioned her decision, she moved to take a seat on the curb. Now that it was completed, the adrenaline started to die. She could feel herself near shaking. When had she eaten last? Slept? Her energy was shot. Blood loss was catching up with her. Sitting would at least hide these things and make her appear overly cocky to whoever showed up. “Then your job will be over quickly, won’t it?”
Damia lifted her gaze to him, “I will not hide. You should be prepared for whatever comes after me…however, I do not think they’ll be so…overt. They have hidden this long. They won’t blow it now,” she sounded disappointed by that.
Sirens sounded in the distance. Damia lowered her head and shut her eyes, “We need to explain you.” They knew all of her servants. They knew most of her contacts. Her mind grasped at the possibility of labeling him one of her family’s contacts, one that was actually loyal, but that would never explain why he would then be hanging around her constantly. He’d have to have an identity outside of that, and that could not be. There wasn’t time to create such an elaborate history.
Soon enough, the demon came through the doors and went right to her, brushing ash and soot down over her clothing and face, her hair. Her fists clenched and she took a step back in reaction, before it dawned on her what he was doing. ‘Right. I’ve now escaped a fire.’ It wasn’t enough that she was injured if there was a fire, she had to look like she’d come from it. Even so, she wiped the back of her hand by her lips to remove the sudden and terrible taste of ash.
“Understood,” she grumbled, pleased by his foresight, but not by his lack of explanation before the action.
As he questioned her decision, she moved to take a seat on the curb. Now that it was completed, the adrenaline started to die. She could feel herself near shaking. When had she eaten last? Slept? Her energy was shot. Blood loss was catching up with her. Sitting would at least hide these things and make her appear overly cocky to whoever showed up. “Then your job will be over quickly, won’t it?”
Damia lifted her gaze to him, “I will not hide. You should be prepared for whatever comes after me…however, I do not think they’ll be so…overt. They have hidden this long. They won’t blow it now,” she sounded disappointed by that.
Sirens sounded in the distance. Damia lowered her head and shut her eyes, “We need to explain you.” They knew all of her servants. They knew most of her contacts. Her mind grasped at the possibility of labeling him one of her family’s contacts, one that was actually loyal, but that would never explain why he would then be hanging around her constantly. He’d have to have an identity outside of that, and that could not be. There wasn’t time to create such an elaborate history.
Constant Temptation
New Member
There was mixed emotion when she retracted from his hands and grumbled. If Zephyr could feel pity, he might have offered it to her, but instead, he simply smirked with pride. "As you wish," already the words sounded automatic. She didn't need to tell him she didn't approve, he got that from her actions. And from now on, he would at least try to not piss her off... as fun as that was.
The contract bound him to feel some level of care towards her. Not only that, but his own selfish desires had him wanting to make sure she was okay. He couldn't help her with the lack of sleep- for even he could only imagine the nightmares she would face from now one. However, he could certainly make sure she was well fed and clean when they finished all of this.
"Maybe..." The word escaped his lips in a low drawl. He wouldn't give away his intention of dragging this out. He enojyed the idea of letting her think he only wanted her soul. He continued to watch her on the crumb, admiring her strength as she thought things through. In the very least she took his questions to heart. It was good they had some level of trust right from the start.
He looked up to the sounds of the sirens, giving her a small nod. "I am prepared for anything, M'lady." There was something dark in his tone. "I am the son of Jonah Underwood and Mei Chang- both low in poverty and killed not too long ago in my mother's home country. I moved here from China after my parents death to find my father's family, but after months of trying I was forced to find employment. Only just before his death did your father hire me as a servant for his house hold." It wasn't perfect, but it was believable - a low peasant needed work as well. He knew there were kinks to his story, but they would have to work out the minor details. "As for why I'm here with you now.. You mortals believe in fate, do you not?" He grinned a little and slipped off his black jacket, wrapping it around Damia's shoulders.
"I've found the master of the house I serve. That's all they need to know."
The contract bound him to feel some level of care towards her. Not only that, but his own selfish desires had him wanting to make sure she was okay. He couldn't help her with the lack of sleep- for even he could only imagine the nightmares she would face from now one. However, he could certainly make sure she was well fed and clean when they finished all of this.
"Maybe..." The word escaped his lips in a low drawl. He wouldn't give away his intention of dragging this out. He enojyed the idea of letting her think he only wanted her soul. He continued to watch her on the crumb, admiring her strength as she thought things through. In the very least she took his questions to heart. It was good they had some level of trust right from the start.
He looked up to the sounds of the sirens, giving her a small nod. "I am prepared for anything, M'lady." There was something dark in his tone. "I am the son of Jonah Underwood and Mei Chang- both low in poverty and killed not too long ago in my mother's home country. I moved here from China after my parents death to find my father's family, but after months of trying I was forced to find employment. Only just before his death did your father hire me as a servant for his house hold." It wasn't perfect, but it was believable - a low peasant needed work as well. He knew there were kinks to his story, but they would have to work out the minor details. "As for why I'm here with you now.. You mortals believe in fate, do you not?" He grinned a little and slipped off his black jacket, wrapping it around Damia's shoulders.
"I've found the master of the house I serve. That's all they need to know."
Lucyfer
Said you'd die for me, well -- there's the ground
A story was woven on the spot, and Damia listened to it with her gaze upon the ground, making it work in her own mind. It was feasible he was a new servant. His loyalty might be questioned, but someone desperate went to many means to survive. If he was under the impression his life was dependent on his master’s—well then.
It wasn’t as if foreigners had an easy time. One walk through the Indian quarters revealed that.
She felt the weight of his jacket, and she grasped at it, pulling it around herself tighter without thinking, “My father’s name is—was Mitchell Starling. My mother was Tracy Starling. I had a brother, Abelard,” so called Abel when she was joking with him, or keeping him out of trouble. ‘Am I my brother’s keeper?’
No. No she was not.
He was dead, after all. The eldest lived on.
Zephyr would need the names to fool anyone, though. “Thank you.” It was delayed, but it was gratitude for the jacket, just before the firefighters arrived. On their tail was the ambulance pulled by its galloping horses.
“Damia?” A surprised and familiar voice, traveling in the carriage, was quick to hasten out. The man was in his late 30s, with black hair and dark eyes, and he didn’t give the ambulance time to stop before he had jumped out and went running, coming to an abrupt stop when he saw the stranger besides her. “You’re alive,” he breathed in surprise, then looked to the man. “Who are—”
“Mine,” Damia pulled herself up from the curb, “Zephyr Underwood. He found me when you couldn’t,” there was scathing accusation in her tone, enough to cause the older man to lower his head. As leader of the Gaspar, he felt the weight of the many failures.
“Is it only…?”
“Yes.”
The man, Nathanial Trist, gave a single, curt nod. He looked to Zephyr. He did not recall him, but right now it was not terribly important, "Thank you," he said to him, his tone indicating his confusion and his concern, "How did you find her? How did you survive?" These questions, Damia couldn't answer for him. "Her home was burnt to the ground--we've only found bodies of the servants." And Damia visibly stiffened with this news, and closed her eyes tight.
She hadn't known that, of course. She suspected such things, it had happened in the other cases, but knowing and suspecting were always two different things. 'So. Everything is gone.' Hard to believe, yet Damia wouldn't deny the likely truth of those words.
It wasn’t as if foreigners had an easy time. One walk through the Indian quarters revealed that.
She felt the weight of his jacket, and she grasped at it, pulling it around herself tighter without thinking, “My father’s name is—was Mitchell Starling. My mother was Tracy Starling. I had a brother, Abelard,” so called Abel when she was joking with him, or keeping him out of trouble. ‘Am I my brother’s keeper?’
No. No she was not.
He was dead, after all. The eldest lived on.
Zephyr would need the names to fool anyone, though. “Thank you.” It was delayed, but it was gratitude for the jacket, just before the firefighters arrived. On their tail was the ambulance pulled by its galloping horses.
“Damia?” A surprised and familiar voice, traveling in the carriage, was quick to hasten out. The man was in his late 30s, with black hair and dark eyes, and he didn’t give the ambulance time to stop before he had jumped out and went running, coming to an abrupt stop when he saw the stranger besides her. “You’re alive,” he breathed in surprise, then looked to the man. “Who are—”
“Mine,” Damia pulled herself up from the curb, “Zephyr Underwood. He found me when you couldn’t,” there was scathing accusation in her tone, enough to cause the older man to lower his head. As leader of the Gaspar, he felt the weight of the many failures.
“Is it only…?”
“Yes.”
The man, Nathanial Trist, gave a single, curt nod. He looked to Zephyr. He did not recall him, but right now it was not terribly important, "Thank you," he said to him, his tone indicating his confusion and his concern, "How did you find her? How did you survive?" These questions, Damia couldn't answer for him. "Her home was burnt to the ground--we've only found bodies of the servants." And Damia visibly stiffened with this news, and closed her eyes tight.
She hadn't known that, of course. She suspected such things, it had happened in the other cases, but knowing and suspecting were always two different things. 'So. Everything is gone.' Hard to believe, yet Damia wouldn't deny the likely truth of those words.
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