The Deal (Closed for WhisperedDesires)

[WhisperedDesires]

He turned at her words, facing her with a blank expression on his face for a moment, as if only just noticing her presence. He was mildly surprised. He'd lost himself in his plots, a not altogether uncommon occurrence, and had missed her subtle arrival. A failing on his part, but one that impacted nothing of any great value. More of interest was this Johnson Ava spoke of. Attracting someone's attention, particularly dressed as he was, had been a bit more difficult than simply being clothes. If anything, what he currently wore would be considered rather run of the mill back then, if perhaps of a higher quality than the average man could afford. Something to make note of, and perhaps when he'd the time he would make himself known to this Johnson.

But now was not the time, vulnerable as the house was, and certainly not with the chance of a chaperone blocking any attempt he might make towards pursuing another deal. Rather, at her suggestion he made his way back inside, with one last look at the sky. There would be plenty of time to view it as often as he liked, hopefully for years to come. Human lives may be depressingly short, but a single lifetime of opportunity... well, few demons could say they had such good fortune. He paused at seeing her naked and lounging upon the chair, idly wondering if he should reclaim his jacket from its backrest before deciding it was fine where it was. He could practically taste the Sloth exuding from her, her posture suggesting no interest in moving anytime soon. Perhaps it was for the best, a glance into her soul revealed the wear upon it from the night before still present. There was the brief consideration, the idle thought, before he frowned in another realization. Or perhaps the sudden remembering of his supposed role. He was, at least in name, supposed to be her... boyfriend. Though his understanding remained basic without the chance to research properly, one's lover was supposed to offer support and care. The wear on Ava's soul would need to be addressed then, and helped along in its recovery.

A task for when she was feeling more active, perhaps. Now, she seemed content to remain where she was. Instead, he wandered over to her bookshelves, fingers running along the spines as he inspected them. He had yet to find where she'd gained her knowledge of demonology, but then he hadn't been trying particularly hard. He would doubt she kept it, if it were a proper grimoire, as if it were any other book. But the human habit of writing things down, of teaching, was perhaps one of their better habits. Whatever knowledge they gained, they made it almost a religious doctrine to record it. All the better for those such as he, to gain that knowledge for himself. As his finger continued to trail along the spines, reading titles and occasionally pulling a book out to inspect it, he finally spoke, tone merely conversational.

"I wonder, did you learn to call my kind from some random book on the subject that happened to get something right, or perhaps you found one of the proper grimoires thought lost to humanity?"

 

[Apollo Wilde]

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Definitely teasing now; slyness seeping into every syllable. Her bookshelf was of varied mundane interests: cookbooks, art books, philosophy, folkore, physical fitness. Nothing that screamed of “I summon demons in my spare time.” In fact, any prolonged perusal of her home would be nothing but mundane; save for someone with interest in art, or botany. “You have your secrets; I have mine.” The last said with a bit of delicious finality, sinking her teeth into the words and not allowing for any further debate.

It was quiet, then - save for the low murmur of the TV, the sound of her sipping her tea. Something was itching at her, right beneath the skin.

Did she have a new pet?

Her home expenses wouldn’t change - assuming that he didn’t need to eat. But best to start clearing things up. “Since you’re a level that I’m not used to dealing with, and apparently you’re going to be around for a while…We should set up some terms, conditions. All of that. I’m assuming that you don’t need physical food? But I’m putting the cart before the horse. What do you need, Marlow, to keep you up and running?”

 

[WhisperedDesires]

"Fair enough, I suppose. Far be it for me to pry where I am not wanted."

For now at any rate. His words were spoken with a hint of humor, for even now the game was being played, though perhaps without the stakes being quite so high. Eventually he would dig those secrets up, find them and twist them to his needs, but if she wished to keep such things to herself, so be it. He extracted a philosophy book, paging through it with the vaguest sense of curiosity. Nihilism, such an interestingly human concept. One that, at least in the moral sense, he could agree with. That humanity deemed the demonic evil was, at best, a gross misunderstanding and, at worst, a deliberate misdirection. Not that any would believe him of course, humans were so rigid in their beliefs when tested. Generations of humans saying something was true must make it so, after all. At least the intelligent ones tended to be ambitious as well, seeking demons for the gifts they could give.

Her questions regarding his needs didn't divert his attention from the book, though he did speak up, clearly paying attention whenever she decided to speak, even if he wasn't physically looking at her.

"Amusement, boredom is about the most dangerous thing to my existence at the moment.

"I will need the blood of a goat, freshly sacrificed upon an altar of bone." There was a long pause, a few seconds passing by in silence, before the demon flashed a sarcastic smile in Ava's direction. "More seriously there is little I require physically, though I can eat for appearances if I must. Otherwise, I still draw upon the energies within the Abyss to sustain myself, and can do so indefinitely so long as I am allowed to remain. In essence, as long as our deal is in place, I will survive. I suppose if I sustained significant injury that would be another matter, it is difficult to heal properly so far from home... but I don't anticipate that shall be a problem, do you? In that event, unlikely as it is, souls would help speed along the process, preferably those steeped in sin.

"As for these terms of yours, I suppose if I must. It is the proper thing to do when one's boyfriend moves in with them, yes? Though I remember it usually being the woman who did the moving in. And the stealing of the closet."

 

[Apollo Wilde]

Oh, she knew it wouldn’t rest between the two of them at that. Just as she was certain that, if and when he was out of her sight, he would be poking and prodding through the home to find anything that could be of interest to him. Let him search all that he wanted; he’d find nothing, that, she was sure of. At least he seemed to have enough presence of mind to not go outwardly digging while she was watching.

“What does a demon do for amusement? Do you have a weakness for trash daytime tv? Topiaries? Are you a master chef? Because that would be, quite frankly, amazing. I’m always surprised when imps can’t cook, considering that humans are such gluttons.” She gave a half-hearted shrug, before rubbing on the curve of her stomach. “I wouldn’t have this prosperity if I didn’t like a good meal,” she laughed, now. Her and her stomach, it seemed that they would be together no matter what she did, so why deny herself delicious things? “Or do you like puzzles? I think I’ve got a 2,000 piece one somewhere.”

At the quip about the goat, she actually chuckled. She hadn’t expected him to have a sense of humor - but, to be fair, she wasn’t entirely sure what she expected to begin with. He was hardly a swirling mass of black magic, nor was he some stunningly beautiful creature. In the daylight, and with having rested a bit, she was able to take him in more. He was a year book sort of handsome, as she’d heard it - possessing a face that probably belonged to the last decade or era that he was on earth. That alone, she figured, would make the more observant give pause, and not in a bad way. An appreciation of something unique, different, in an age where surgeries and money could easily make everyone look the same.

“You’ve got a sense of humor; that already puts one score in your favor for ‘good boyfriend.’” Leaning forward, she set down her now empty cup of tea, and stretched her arms high overhead. No matter how much she moved, she couldn’t shake the stiffness, the drag, that let her know her body had been overly taxed. “I’ve got the next few days off - which means that I’ll be at home. That should be simple enough. But we’ve got to find you something to either do around the house as a house husband or something similar, or get you a job or something so that your coming and going make sense. As I said, I have nosy neighbors - and they’re very quick to notice something out of the ordinary.”

 

[WhisperedDesires]

"It would depend upon the demon, more often than not. Food is of little interest to most of us, though I'm sure Lilith's are likely more versed in it than I will ever be. In my case, I often find places you humans frequent and simply watch. You all move so quickly, change so rapidly. Ripping memories from the souls that come to hell is hardly the most fascinating way to gather information. If I had to find a personal hobby however..." There was a long pause again, the demon seeming lost in the book save for the fact that the pages were no longer turning, his hand lying still. "I... used to watch the silver screen, when I wasn't otherwise occupied. That humanity could bring stories to life, could take what used to be confined to books and oral tradition... and the stories you humans would come up with... it was fascinating at times, the things you fixate on within the stories you tell. Like love. So very concerned with love, and yet plenty of stories where love was the source of disaster."

It had been a long time since he'd thought about that. Theatre and storytelling had always been one of the few things that could properly hold his attention among the humans. It was their stories of hell that had interested him the most. They were so very often wrong, wildly portraying his home in ways that made little sense. But every so often, they stumbled upon something right, whether it be some trait or a particular demon that existed. When they did, he couldn't help himself but smile, for only he ever really knew that they had, and he'd little interest in confirming anything. He sometimes missed the oratory performances of the ancient world, the feat of memory and often days of recitation an impressive affair all on its own. When the idea of moving pictures arrived... well, it was just another way to tell a story.

"I shall take your words as a compliment then, for surely I must be doing something right to be awarded arbitrary points in my favor. But I have little interest in a job, toiling away as a human does for scraps of paper of no real value. If it ever becomes a concern I shall simply acquire some for you and be done with the matter. I had honestly assumed we would ignore the lot of them entirely. The opinions of others are hardly any of my concern after all. Let them think what they will. More than likely they'll think you're simply keeping a man around to satisfy your carnal lusts. If it bothers you so, I could remove them, or toy with their memories, it wouldn't be terribly difficult."

 

[Apollo Wilde]

She took in what he was saying in quiet thoughtfulness.

Huh.

She hadn’t expected a demon with such…depth. To be fair, literature, the arts, even older tomes all depicted how to summon demons, what they said to make their deals, and that was the most dialogue that they’d ever been given. As tired as she was, she could feel the tickling interest of questions rolling round her stomach. So much to ask - so much to know; but how much could she learn just by watching him? She shifted in the chair, moving to fold her arms under her chin, and stretching out across the chair as luxurious as a cat. He was now the sole focus of her attention, her eyes focused raptly on him, her lips poked in a slight pout.

“So you’re a people-watcher…” Her thought trailed off into the air - not that there was much more to add to it. That was unexpected. But, with only a bit of extra thought, it would make sense. You had to understand your prey to best know how to ensnare it. It could have been a purely transactional thing, but the thoughtful way he’d said it struck a nerve with her. It simply felt…true. And though she knew she should be suspicious of everything he said, surely sharing a hobby wouldn’t start her downfall. Plenty of people, well, people-watched. She was one of them; in particular, she liked walking malls just looking, listening. The irony was that he probably had more patience for people than she did; too much time around people gave her a massive headache. “And a cinemaphile. Well - I think I may have a way to keep you occupied. If you need to, I’ll show you how to use my laptop and my movie set up here. I have a subscription to the Criterion collection - all of the old, arty-farty movies that you can indulge in. Maybe we could have a movie night-”

She cut herself off, and snorted. “Some boyfriend you are; I’m already making all of the suggestions of how we could spend time together.” She laughed again, hoping that the feeble attempt covered up just how quickly she’d slipped into addressing him like…well, someone she was interested in. Certainly not in a romantic sense - he hadn’t come onto her. There was no wafting of attraction coming from him. A bit disappointing, but, realistically, it made sense. He’d made it quite clear that he wasn’t an incubus, and that sex was an afterthought to him. And that was fine; sex could lead to a release of chemicals that could be mistaken for love, if one was lonely enough. And she knew herself well enough to know that, had he shown a bit of tenderness, she would be in trouble. Now, though, she appreciated his aloofness - and, if anything, there was that undeniable spark of wanting to share. He liked movies - she liked movies. It would be interesting to get his perspective, at the very least. And he’d said he’d liked dancing, in the past.

“So you won’t need a job - though, if you like movies and people watching, there’s an old theater downtown that you could work at. It’d get you out, you could see all of the movies you’d like…” she shrugged. “It’s something.”

Her expression darkened, a hair, a flicker of the light. The neighbors had struck a nerve. "I'd prefer for them not to think less of me, if it's all the same to you."

 

[WhisperedDesires]

"I shall perhaps take you up on your offer, if only to pass the time to watch a movie. A shame it is not more of a spectacle as it once was, but I shall endeavor to enjoy myself."

That he never specified to which activity he was agreeing, and at that only when he wasn't already otherwise occupied, was perhaps a . It would be days before he finished his work, however, days before he could be reasonably sure prying eyes would miss his presence. Less so, perhaps, the attention of these neighbors of hers. Perhaps it would be prudent to take measures of a different sort as well. A little bit of memory manipulation in the night, to ensure they would think little of his presence. He would have to pick through their memories for information on her as well, to find more he could use in the game they played. Considerations for nightfall, however, for something more immediately interesting had caught his attention.

He might not have noticed it, has it not been for his attention already on her. For a moment, a flicker in her emotions once more, a darkening that was gone a moment later, the only remnant a certain tightness to her words. There was a story there, one that interested him greatly if it could cause enough of a stir as to shift her mood so suddenly. The book was snapped shut with a soft thud as he turned to face her, eyes narrowing slightly.

"Perhaps I would be more inclined to provide a solution if I knew the nature of your reputation among the community you reside in."

 

[Apollo Wilde]

“ ‘Endeavor to enjoy’ yourself,” she parroted back at him. Was that a hint of sourness there? Was he as annoyed with the circumstances as she was beginning to be? That was the beauty about being angry, or emotional - logic rarely factored into anything. You could ride as high on the emotions as long as they were there, be swept away by them, and no matter how foolishly you acted, there was the deep understanding among all humans that they, too, could fall prey to their own emotions.

But what did demons enjoy? He’d said what he liked - which made no sense to her, if she thought about it. Human attributes were one thing, but why did he do them? If he was, as he somewhat agreed, like a spider, then there could be no real enjoyment in his work - not a passion, as it were. Maybe some souls were choicer than others; an excellently prepared steak as opposed to a Big Mac. The thought of him shoveling fast food into his mouth was enough to make her chuckle.

Any continued laughter was stilled as he asked about the neighbors. “My reputation?” She blinked, once, twice, in a flimsy aping of innocence. “They think I’m a crazy witch that lives to put a curse on their children.” She shifted in her chair, wondering if he would drop the subject. He’d clearly taken the bait - in the sense that he was interested. Now, she began to weigh the pros and cons in her head. He would, eventually, she figured, find out the truth. Let’s see if he would believe her. “This is actually a community of modern magic users, this whole gated sub-division. It’s been a hub of magical activity since time immemorial, and it’s home to all kinds of magic users and religions. They say the area gets its innate power from the people that live here, though others say it’s because it’s on a ley line, and still others say it’s because it’s a place where the heavens and earth converge. I personally think that it’s the navel of the world, a focal point that simply calls to those who can hear and amplifies innate power.” She gave an off-hand shrug. "But my reputation here is being one of the most powerful, and people like to know what I’m up to. You might even say it’s gotten me into a bit of trouble before and I may or may not have a rotating set of guards watching what I do.”

 

[WhisperedDesires]

Her words prompted him to turn his supernatural senses to the outside world once more, reaching beyond the confines of the house to seek out other sources of power. They were, by his estimation, startlingly weak, a far cry from anything he would actually consider a true practitioner of the arcane. Humans practiced at parlor tricks, perhaps, but no one of the level he would consider worth notice. She was by far the most accomplished in his eyes, the summoning of a greater demon proved some level of control not commonly found among human any more, but still a far cry from the powers of old and the mastery they had held over magic. A fortunate event, perhaps, considering her will alone had held against him, he could hardly picture what she'd be capable of if she became a true warlock. Still, these ones she described as magi... the only reason he could feel their presence at all was because she'd pointed out their existence. Focusing on the presence of human magic was always a difficult thing for him, the demonic or angelic shone brightly, whilst the mortal way was often more subdued. Regardless, if there were practitioners close at hand, that meant almost inevitably that a handful of them sought greater power, an opportunity if he'd ever heard one. He would have to see about introducing himself to the locals in due time.

"I almost wish I was one of Lilith's. Her kind have a nose for your mortal magic. As it is, the ones around us are barely worth the title, at least to my senses. More akin to street magicians, if I were to call them anything. You're the only one of any note, even if your demonology is underdeveloped. If you've guards though... perhaps it would be best to hide my presence sooner rather than later. I would prefer they keep to their own business, and well out of mine."

He hadn't intended to continue his work while she was awake, her curiosity would no doubt draw her to the sigils, and more pressingly draw questions about them, but if someone was specifically watching her then someone was watching the house. They'd more than likely already noted his presence, if not what he was, and he'd prefer they remain ignorant of what exactly she'd pulled through the Veil. The book was replaced upon the shelf, the demon stepping across the living room to where he'd left the finished framework of runes. As he approached a flicker of his power was sent into them, causing them to glow softly, all the easier to view and manipulate them. With the curtains drawn, there would be no danger of someone physically seeing something they should, but he'd need to be cautious of any major uses of his magic until the wards had been fully erected and properly placed.

 

[Apollo Wilde]

To his words, she merely snorted.

Maybe he wasn’t as powerful as she’d assumed he was. True, she knew her own abilities to be strong, stronger than most, but she also knew she was hardly the most powerful in this city, let alone this block. Either way, though - as he moved, she watched intently. She could feel the sigils he’d placed around the house, and now, she could distinctly see them and where they were. All the more to her advantage.

Soon enough, the television lost its interest, and she was shifting in her chair, standing. Her back to him again, her tattoo rippled across her back, almost as if reacting to his presence. There wasn’t much to be done, that she’d surmised. Might as well get on with the rest of her day.

“I’m going to shower,” she said, more to his benefit than hers. Something about warm water always helped her think clearer - and might wake her up a bit more.

 

[WhisperedDesires]

It was the sudden movement, not of her but of the art across her back, that snapped his attention around. He'd see it already, she seemed largely uncaring if he did or not, which originally had led him to dismiss it as unimportant, something significant to her but otherwise another uninteresting piece of art plastered across a humans skin. Now, however, hyper aware as he became upon realizing a bunch of mortal practitioners were around, he paid it more attention. Eyes narrowed at Ava's back, examining the tattoo more closely. He might have extended his power outwards, grasped at the woman to pull at the threads that made up her being and see if anything else but the deal had been woven in, but as he understood it that would be seen as the opposite of what a lover might do.

That did not prevent him, however, from watching. Under his gaze it didn't seem to move at all, at least in no way discernable to his physical eyes. A frown of vague annoyance, primarily from the realization that he couldn't simply torture the information he wanted out of someone, before he fell back on something else he knew well.

"Your tattoo. It is... different." His words were carefully spoken, as if poking and prodding at a particularly difficult subject. She had seemed loath to speak much about herself, or where she learned what she had, and perhaps this was another thing she would dismiss. But if there was something else bound to her, he would know of it, and if there was not, he would discover what magic was at work here. Perhaps if he phrased it as a curious lover might. "I don't believe I've seen someone blend the styles together in such a manner. What significance does it have to you? It must mean something, being so prominent."

 

[Apollo Wilde]

“It’s a lovely story,” and that seemed to be the end of that. “That of Isis and Osiris. I’ve got it somewhere in one of the books on the shelf.” She’d glance back at him, her expression neutral.

In truth, there was no outward magic ability woven into the ink of her skin - and she did simply like the story and the appeal of having such a massive tattoo that was hidden. Indeed, if she were clothed, every inch of it would be covered up. “Why don’t you join me?” It was tossed to him as a scrap; not even skirting remotely close to scintillating. But now, boredom of the sheer mundane nature of their interaction was starting to wear on her.

She couldn’t entirely blame him; he was as out of his depth as she was in these circumstances. But he seemed the type that wouldn’t speak unless spoken to, and wouldn’t act unless she did so first. At least at this rate, she could see what he looked like naked, though she wasn’t expecting anything out of the ordinary.

 

[WhisperedDesires]

"Hm. Here I was about to offer demonic knowledge for the truth of it. But I suppose if you'd rather keep your secrets."

His own comment was filled with skepticism, for his nature demanded that the game was nearly always played. Among his kind, not suspecting everyone of hiding something, plotting something, was tantamount to suicide. It was unthinkable that something didn't have a meaning or purpose behind it, for even those things that he personally enjoyed had originally served a greater purpose. Mortals were not so keen on such games, perhaps, but she'd shown herself apt enough at playing it regardless. In much the same way, her sudden offer to join her in the shower was met with similar skepticism, carefully examined for some potential angle or ulterior purpose. Ultimately unable to find one, he considered it again, though now from the angle of his own purpose. He was supposed to act as her lover, or rather he was supposed to fall in love with her. While he was in no great hurry, he supposed acting the part could only help.

"I think I shall join you. It certainly couldn't hurt anything, and washing should help remove whatever lingering smell of the Abyss exists."

Another moment was given towards his clothing, or rather what to do with them. He could physically remove them, but that would take time, time that was largely unnecessary if he was only to take a shower. A slight flex of power had the magically constructed garments dismissed, the clothing on his body seeming to fall from his frame like ash. Revealed was the broad frame of a warrior who'd seen countless years of bloodshed. Muscle was there, clearly evident beneath the skin, but it was muscle no gym member or dedicated athlete gained. Instead, it was that of someone who had fought for centuries among his own, building up the specific muscles he'd used time and time again to cast down rivals and battle would be usurpers. While that constant battle wasn't performed in this form, his magic did its best to translate over, making him appear much the same way a dedicated soldier might. A single scar tore it's way down his torso, marring otherwise smooth skin, looking for all the world like someone had taken a jagged claw to his chest. Other scars were etched across his torso and forearms, shallow things that looked to be well on the way to healing. As he twisted and turned to examine his human frame, having not really seen it in almost a century, another mark upon his skin revealed itself, what appeared to be a brand upon the back of his shoulder blades, runes seared into his flesh recognizable in their placement as a single word.

 

[Apollo Wilde]

“I’m quite sure that there’s nothing more sinister to my tattoo other than it is what it is. Unless you were there, of course, and have a different version of the story.” Sarcasm was heavy in her words now, shy of being short with him. The tattoo, for once, was just a tattoo - but she understood his suspicion. But she spoke easily enough, walking away from him down the art-laden hallway to the bathroom.

Once in, she reached over and started the water. It would be a moment before it was warm, and she took the opportunity to look him over. Hm. He was more defined than she expected him to be - though admittedly, the suit from before did do much to hide his body. Without thinking, she reached out and traced the long scar across his chest. Her touch was quite warm, with no suspect humming of magic within her fingertips.

“Didn’t think that demons could have scars.” He was real, this flesh was real and firm under her fingertips. His touch before, when he was still within the circle, was cold, a penetrating chill that made her bones ache. Outside of the seal, he was much more human, even down to the warmth of his skin. She supposed if she pressed hard enough against his neck or his chest, she could feel the familiar pulse of a heart. “You have been a busy boy.”

 

[WhisperedDesires]

"Egypt at the height of its power was of little interest to me. Lilith's and that Fallen were the most often summoned, when the Egyptians had the wherewithal to call upon hell."

He followed sedately behind Ava into the bathroom, waiting patiently while she worked on getting the water running. The sudden touch against his skin, warm fingers tracing against the scar, drew his attention down to his own chest. Ah... he'd almost forgotten about that one. It was something he supposed he should be more aware of, most humans found such things off putting, though as he was coming to expect Ava seemed more interested than disgusted. It was something he could admit was somewhat comforting, not having to worry about tiptoeing around the sensibilities of some random mortal. It wasn't like they had summoned up some formerly mortal spirit or holier than thou angel. He idly watched her toy with the flesh of chest, absorbing her remarks and considering them, and how apt, they were.

"It takes something particularly violent to inflict something permanent like this upon a demon, more so for me, since my natural form is a great deal more resilient than this one. This one was given to me by one of the Fallen... I tore his wings from his back and had him flayed alive in vengeance." There was a grim satisfaction to his words, a glimmer of pride in his eyes as he recalled the memory. He shook himself from his reminiscing a moment later, turning his attention back to the woman before him. "I've fought my share of rivals and challengers, so I suppose calling me 'busy' is accurate. But then, hell is rarely a peaceful place, the abyss even less so, and if a demon cannot defend his place, then he doesn't deserve it."

 

[Apollo Wilde]

“Huh. Maybe the old adage is true - the old gods are the new demons.” She looked up and directly into his eyes. Her gaze was unclear, but free from desire. At least, not physically. If not love, then knowledge, she could obtain from him. “And why would you fight a Fallen? What did he have that you wanted?”

There was an additional question there as well, though it wasn’t one that was meant to be answered. It was the implicit, and who are you to be so powerful that you’d take on one of the major fallen angels? If he was truly that powerful, then…she had to admit, she was a bit disappointed. She would have expected something more spectacular, more awe-inspiring, instead of this nondescript man covered in scars. It was easier to focus on that than the continual whining of her ego. Here she was, completely naked in front of him (and not for the first time, after all), and still, he showed no interest. True, she wasn’t exuding an aura of take me now, but it was a bit painful if she dwelled on it too long. Ah well.

Steam was rising from the shower now, and she stepped into it, not bothering to pin her hair up. She was still tired; still dragging. Still trying to piece together what all she needed to do with the day. If his magic held, he would have escaped the more observant of her guards - and the only thing she could do to really throw them off was to continue at business as usual: shopping, tending to the garden, the like. Though she was largely solitary, she knew that her life, like that of many others, were variations of the same movements. Tilting her head back, she let the water cascade over the column of her throat and down her torso.

“I wouldn’t have thought that a demon would have been concerned with how he smelled.”

 

[WhisperedDesires]

"It was not what she had that I wanted. It was what I had that she sought." There was bitterness, naked and raw, in his words. Whatever wound had been left, whatever physical scar there was, it paled in comparison to the insult he still felt from an age long since over. "She won the first time and cast me down, calling it mercy. I took back what was mine, tore her wings from her, tortured her, and called it her just reward. The Fallen lost one war, it's recorded in your human myths and legends, even in your religious texts. It speaks little of the war they won."

If there was more to be said on the subject, he was unwilling to say it. There was an air of finality in that, as if he was done with the topic, at least for now. Demonic history, while long, was not something he truly wished to concern himself with at present. No, far more interesting was the sense of frustration that emanated from her soul, something beneath the surface that tingled at the edge of his senses. He might not have noticed it at all, but the bargain they'd struck tugged at his attentions, forced his senses forward at some deep level. His eyes narrowed as he watched her step into the shower, watched the water cascade down her form. She was not, as he'd mentioned before, an unappealing sight. Surely if she were searching for love, there were plenty of men who'd jump at the chance to earn her affection. Even more so would likely be happy to help satisfy whatever lusts she might have. The night before, and even the beginnings of the morning, he'd largely not taken much notice of her nakedness because it largely didn't concern him, and her body language suggested little in the way of wanting his attention. She'd done it for comfort, not seduction, after all. Here however... whether she realized it or not, standing beneath cascading water had a tendency to come off seductive, the water naturally drawing attention to curves and feminine appeal. But one thought remained, even as he considered the woman in question.

Why ask a demon of all things to fall in love?

He could think of many reasons, the most obvious simply being a way to win in a bargain, only now she was stuck with him so long as she remained alive. His demonic ideals suggested using him, perhaps as a bodyguard of sorts, with love being placed instead of loyalty as some ruse, but he discarded the notion quickly. She didn't seem to truly have enemies, at least none she seemed to consider a genuine threat. Her emotions had been running high, certainly, and it could be argued she'd done it on a whim, her request nothing more than anger meeting anger. But the desire had to have been there for the thought to come up, and more so it was the first thought that had come up in the midst of matching wills with him. Before he could give it more consideration, Ava's words drifted from her place under the water, jarring him from his thoughts.

"I could remain unconcerned if you wish, and let any human who wanders near smell brimstone, ash and ritualistic herbs. I'm sure the average human wouldn't know the difference, but your minders might have something to say. Besides, though I may be a demon, even I know the joys of a proper shower. So little of that to be had in hell."

He stepped behind her then, content to wait his turn for use of the water. Instead, he took the time to continue watching her. He could see the weariness of her body, linked to the wear upon her soul. He could remember adding it to the list of things he needed to do, help her along in reigniting the flame within, getting her soul back to its full working order. Perhaps this would make for an opportune time. Her curiosity and hunger for knowledge could be fed, and that would help over the long term, but there was more to the indulgence in the Great Sins than simply consigning oneself to a demon's hungry clutches. There was a reason souls who were inundated in the sins were so prized by demons.

"You seem... weary, Ava. Perhaps I can help with that."

He touched her then, warm hands finding her shoulders and squeezing, putting gentle pressure upon the muscles that hid beneath her skin. He was not a practiced hand at massaging, but there was something to be said of instinct and common sense. Applying too much strength would be worse than too little, for more could always be added without cause for undue injury. He would do no more, not without gauging her reaction first, only then taking another step towards helping her indulge herself in one of the sins. Sloth perhaps, given her apparent lack of interest in lust, but if her desires awoke... well, he was not necessarily opposed.

 

[Apollo Wilde]

“ ‘She.’” It was a simple repetition of a throwaway pronoun in his sentence, resonating in her like a bell struck. Female demons, well, that was interesting. One did tend to think of all demons, especially those with immense power, as male. That might be a story for another day. Actually, there was no ‘might’ about it; it would be a story for another day - when she had the energy to ask more questions, to listen attentively. Assuming that he’d tell her anything. She hadn’t missed the bitterness there, the anger. Considering how familiar she was with the failings of being alive, she was surprised, but on the same hand, she wasn’t. There was that nagging feeling of security again, that there might be something that she could actually cradle within the palm of her hand when it came to him. That there was more, that if she brushed away the dust of disuse, there would be a core of humanity beneath it all.

After all - if the ‘Fallen,’ as he put it, were assumably made in God’s image, and so was man - then in theory, they shared the same ancestry. So perhaps, despite his own insistence that he was that he was - there might be something more there. Maybe.

His hands on her caused her to start - the muscles of her shoulders, already tight, stiffened. What to say - somehow, she felt that his touching her would be beneath him; he’d expressed no interest in sex, and she hadn’t expressed any in his. Too much on her mind, fatigue and panic. And it was still there - a deep, animalistic fear at his touch. Suddenly, she was too naked, too wet, too vulnerable. Fight or flight. Stay or go.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she took in a deep breath - tried to focus on the heat of the water, the smell of it. The faint steam that hung in her hair.

“…I wasn't expecting that,” she said, finally, the words sticking to the roof of her mouth. Dimly, she thought about her could have had the ability to charm her, breathe honeyed words to ease her, to manipulate her, but he didn’t. And…that was reassuring. “You touching me like this,” she added, pulling more words from her mouth. She couldn’t even attempt to make a smart-assed comment, so taken aback was she.

 

[WhisperedDesires]

"I understand it's something expected between those in a relationship, that they touch. I think it would be more suspect if I did not touch you. I can hardly be expected to fall in love if I treated you like a leper, keeping you constantly at arms length. I could remove my hands if you wish."

He didn't actually do so, not yet. Even with the wave of fear that exuded from her, the sudden tense nature of her stance, he felt fairly certain he hadn't hit her limit. He wouldn't push further, not yet, but rather simply continued to knead at her shoulders, ease muscles away from the tightness they now exhibited. The careful observation continued, senses stretched out to observe the fire of her soul.

It was somewhat interesting that she hadn't brought up the possibility of her soul burning so low. Was it perhaps knowledge that had been lost? In ages passed the human practitioners had at least an inkling into the working of the soul and its influence upon the body. Some had even managed to detail the reason that demons so enjoyed enticing mortals to exalt in sin and base desires. But given his summoner's reactions... perhaps such knowledge had been forgotten, or was simply so jealously guarded as to be lost to the majority. A possibility he wouldn't dismiss out of hand, humans were often as bad as demons when they pursued power.

 

[Apollo Wilde]

“You just seemed above touching a human,” she wouldn’t turn to look back at him, still trying to figure out how she felt about his hands on her. It was a tactile reminder that he was inhabiting something close to a human form. The cold chill from before was gone, and he felt as warm as any other human; perhaps he had ‘settled’ further into this form. “And now you’re treating it like a business transaction,” laughing, she simply decided to let things go as they were. She was tired, his hands were warm, and she could delude herself into thinking that there was someone else on the face of this blighted planet who actually cared that she was in the world, that she was alive.

And…

He was proving to be quite a decent masseuse. Not the same as a professional, but not the worst. Responding faster than her brain, the muscles of her shoulders eased under his touch, and a low groan slipped from her lips. She tilted her head forward, exposing more of the back of her neck to him. “You know…you could touch me elsewhere.” It could have been taken as salacious - maybe there was a bit of that. She’d been suddenly struck with a longing to feel his hand slid down the length of her back, tracing the line of her spine, lightly digging into the tops of her hips. She needed some reassurance that her form was still there; that she still existed.

Was it the stress and strain of calling him, or was it her own deep melancholy whispering? Feeling alone was nothing new; her dabbling in magic ensured that her life would be a solitary one at best. “In Hell…do you ever feel like you’re just lost in the masses? How does it work there…?” She doubted that he would answer; maybe being lonely, feeling isolated, was a strictly human thing. At least the acknowledgment of those feelings; she got the impression that animals that couldn’t work within groups simply died off.

Though she was tired, her body still calling for more rest, there was a flickering of interest, of trying to stoke the fires of interest. Or perhaps she was so tired that her facade was cracking. How long had it been since another had touched her? And, it figures -she had to bite back the sarcastic laugh that pressed against her mouth-, that the first person to touch her in ages was not only one that she had to summon, but was one that literally had to. Give and take; take and give, what made the world go round. What was she giving now, what had she intended to take? For once, could her giving be actually altruistic - and responded in turn? He wanted her soul; no point in deluding herself otherwise. But there was nothing wrong in seeking comfort in the touch of another, and that’s where it would have to stay, she would need to whittle away everything else, and let it exist on the barest level - a set of hands, fingers, touch.

 

[WhisperedDesires]

"If I was above touching a human than I would be incapable of providing for those who ask for lustful matters. Granted, such requests are few and far between in my case, but still they happen. Besides, all things are a business transaction of one kind or another. All things are give and take, even if one chooses not to acknowledge that. It's simply a matter of what is being exchanged that colors such arrangements."

His hands continued their work, moving then to her exposed neck, pushing lightly at the muscles there and easing away whatever tension existed. Then, he followed the trails of hot water that traveled down her back, letting hands be guided by the liquid down. The process was a deliberately slow one, the demon taking his time in pushing against each muscle, hunting for the knots of tension in her back and applying more pressure where it was needed. That this caused his thumbs to trace the line of her spine was, if one were to ask him, mere coincidence, and that the trail led further and further down, to where the curve of her back became the curve of her hips, well, that was merely the natural progression of such things.

All the while, his senses watched the flame of her soul, watched it grow ever so slightly. Two sins warred within, seeking fulfillment, or perhaps merely acknowledgement. One he was familiar with, the greed all practitioners of the magical arts felt. Curiosity drove them forward, the hunger to learn more, to hoard every growing knowledge and understanding. The most powerful almost inevitably compiled vast libraries of information, and guarded it jealously against any who would seek to take it from them. The other, the less common for him, was the sin of lust, of the need for physical fulfillment, whether for the sake of pleasure or the simple need for the touch of another. Her question, about hell, about his place in it, and about his feelings on the matter, caused the greed for knowledge to strengthen, the fire burning just a little brighter.

"Demons are by their nature solitary creatures, though perhaps not in the way many think. You compared me to a spider once, for the sake of explaining my birth, and how I knew all I needed to in order to hunt my prey, so to speak. Like a spider, a demon can go decades without any meaningful interaction, content to watch and wait for opportunity to come. We do not seek out companionship, but neither do we ignore the merits of having others around us, particularly in the form of servants and thralls. Still... there are many demons in the hell, and it is near impossible to be entirely alone within its confines. Lilith has had her influence as well, and though we are not normally social creatures, the façade of such has become a part of daily life, at least among those strong enough to carve out a place of their own. I'm sure you've heard of the Princes of Hell and other such titles. All were her doing, a need to mimic the growth of human civilization, given her origins. I think she envies the children of Eve, most of all, for Eve had Adam, and it is Eve's children, you mortal humans, that rule the Earth, and not Lilith's."

That was, perhaps, more information than Ava had asked for, and certainly gave more about hell's denizens than had been asked. It had also not answered the far more personal question involved, but he'd little interest in answering questions about himself, for such information could be used against him. How it would be by a mortal he didn't know, but he wouldn't take the chance regardless. As his words finished, his hands completed their slow travel to their final destination, settling lightly on the woman's hips. He could feel the embers of the other sin now, burning ever so lightly beneath her hunger for knowledge. Her own interest, small as it was, called to his demonic essence, called up the feelings needed to sate such lusts. The smell of her skin grew sharper, the feel of her skin, smooth and wet under his fingertips, became more defined. The aesthetic appeal she had before, appreciated by him as if she were a painting, was turned into a more erotic form, his appreciation feeding on the embers of lust within her own soul. There was the briefest of consideration towards his actions, the barest trace of concern for how she might take his chosen course, but the fires were already being lit, and some sins were far quicker at rejuvenating the soul than others.

So it was he bent down slightly, warmth of his breath the only warning before his lips pressed lightly into the skin of her neck. As he did so, his hands tightened ever so slightly on her hips, almost as if to keep her in place while still providing her the opportunity to slip away from him should she choose. She had not outright told him to keep his hands off her yet, and though he would respect it if she did, a lover respected such decisions, he would push and push until her limit had been reached or she gave in fully.

 

[Apollo Wilde]

“It doesn’t seem like it’s your M.O., touching people. Being close.” It was easier to focus on what she thought she was; her assumptions, even though her logic pulled at her to recognize that she really had no idea who he was, his official name, where he ranked in that archaic ladder, were better than settling on the fact that she knew absolutely nothing. And she was tired, and her heart sore, and her body dragging along, feeling more beat down than refreshed. His hands were weaving her together, exploring, clinical, that, she could understand, appreciate, the disinterest, it would be easier to keep him where she wanted him if he had it.

“ ‘Rule,’” echoed with bitter spite, the fatigue of an optimist who finally saw the world as it was. “That’s arguable.” Why preach to him about the impending end of the world, the destruction of all that was beautiful and natural in the constant quest for greed, how there was truly no way of buying out of it if one was human, if one lived in a city, did anything that could be considered a benefit of modernity. The wars, the hatred, the orphaned children - it was a sad song that she could barely stand the refrain to, so long had it simply turned into background noise. And then, under it all, what sort of God that would create such a thing, knowing the baser nature of His creations, and then punish them for human failings?

It was a strange, strange place.

And in her thoughts, she leaned into him, the anchoring feel of hands against flesh, her back to his chest, the pulse of his heart, the coursing of the water. His lips on the side of her neck was a delayed response, her addled mind not sure how she should take it. He’d made no passionate overtures before, and yet here she was, chewing over that same piece of thought, over and over, coming back to the same conclusion. She could give in, her heart ached enough to welcome it, to welcome him, but it wouldn’t be worth it; she’d gotten past the point of fuck buddies long ago, and being lonely was painful, but less painful than waking up in a strange bed and realizing the gravity of making yet another mistake, of being dragged deeper by her human weaknesses, and the disgust that always, always followed - that she’d given in again, that she’d devalued herself.

What was value, though, in a world that didn’t recognize the existence of an individual? She was nothing; meant nothing to no one. Here, under the warmth of the shower, the touch of these strange hands, she swallowed, had to force the resolve into a ball in the pit of her stomach, something she could grasp, something that would give her body weight. She pulled away from him, the unspoken message that she was going to get out of the shower. The time to drown in loneliness would come later, but now wasn’t the time.

 

[WhisperedDesires]

When she pulled away, it was accompanied by a growl from deep in his chest, something inhuman and impossible for someone of his frame to reasonably mimic. It was, perhaps, not the best response to have to the sudden break in contact between them. But she had ignited the sin of lust within him, forced his nature down that path, and removing the prospect of it was aggravating. Still, he was not the lesser demons, who'd have simply taken what they wished of her, or at least tried to. He had self control, and abundance of it, and he would wait as patiently as he could. Soon enough the sin would go dormant once more on its own, at least until next someone called it up from the depths of his essence. That did not mean, however, that she would get to leave entirely unscathed.

He could practically taste the war within her soul, could sense the moment she'd taken the slowly awakening embers of sin and dowsed them with discipline and temperance. It rankled him down to the core that the mortals willingly chose to limit themselves in such manners. Demons so rarely did not pursue the things they desired, held in check only by those with greater power or by the contracts they forged. Where had the fire of the night before gone? Surely, even as weakly as her soul burned, she still had the strength of will that she had before, the fire that burned within enough to resist his own power lashing out. Instead, she had become this, some withered husk of herself, a shell that merely contained a soul, that merely existed in the world without purpose or meaning. How... How...

"How disappointing." The words slipped from his mouth without much consideration. Even hearing them emerge, even after considering them in the split second after they filled the air, he decided he did not care to retract them. Where before she had met his anger with rage and cunning, now she floated about like a shade. Passion had given way to sloth, and not even true Sloth, but something markedly less fulfilling. She wasted away when she had access to power, to knowledge and clearly the will to see it through, to pull forth a greater demon and bind it, at least loosely, to her will. "I had thought you far more brazen, a woman who sought what she wished without hesitation. Instead I am met with some wilting flower of a girl all too eager to hide away. Alas, perhaps it is only because the fire of your soul burns so low."

 

[Apollo Wilde]

Stepping out of the flow of water, she kept her ornately decorated back to him as she wrapped a deep red towel against her bare body. From where it eagerly drank the water from her skin, darker patches of red blossomed through. If the growl had startled her, sparked some primal fight or flight, she gave no sign -

Until she began to laugh.

He was sore, she could tell that much - and his insults seemed little more than a frustrated dog barking behind a fence, his quarry out of reach. “You’ve a lot to learn about the human heart, Marlow,” was all of the answer that she gave him. Though her lust had been quelled, she had a burgeoning sense of pride that replaced it, a small flicker that grew as she neatly dried her off, paying him no further mind. Pat here, a caress of the inner thigh there, now under the armpits, the nape of her neck. She’d continue about her rituals as if he wasn’t there, keeping that smile that threatened to spill out tamped down. It was his loss, perhaps, but certainly her win. She hadn’t given in. Had reclaimed some bit of herself in the process of it.

“I do want companionship,” she said, at long last, hanging up the towel. Folding it, running her fingers over the crease so that it lay just so, “But companionship that desires me as well.” She’d turn to face him now, unashamed of her body, of standing in front of him. There was the hint of fire back in her eyes, a taunting disdain that would have better suited a queen than this mortal nothing. “It’s one thing to just fuck and be fucked, no different than changing panties. And I’ve done that plenty in my life. It’s boring after a while. You want something deeper; you want to connect. Did you know,” and she leaned back against the wall, as stately as ever, enjoying the odd equality of them being both naked, both having undergone the ancient ritual of purification, that human and apparently not so human desire to return to water, to be rinsed clean, “It’s been over 6 months since I’ve last had sex? Probably nothing for you, but…enlightening for me.”

Pressing her hands behind her back, she pushed away a bit from the wall now, her eyes growing ever brighter. “I could react, could challenge you, could lose my patience or temper with you. But what’s the point? Even assuming that you’d be half-way decent in bed, a fuck wouldn’t do either one of us any good.”

Was there a challenge there? Lust, the longing for a touch replaced by scientific and disaffected curiosity? Would that rankle him, as it would another human, not to be thought of as someone to be desired, but something simply to have, to check off of a list before moving on?

 

[WhisperedDesires]

His eyes tracked her motions, each step in the ritual of drying off met with rapt attention. His own lust was not as easily dismissed, though it was hardly overwhelming. But demons were beings who indulged in their sins, and it would be awhile before lust was dormant once more. But neither would he be ruled by it, given to simple base whims and fantasies. Appreciate the woman before him perhaps, exalt her naked form and feminine curves. Still, at some level it did irritate him, that he was left with lust unsatisfied, no direction to properly direct it into, no person to slake the thirst with.

Another, more unexpected, turn of events had him smiling however, a smile that was perhaps the most genuine he'd had since arriving. Her soul, so long flickering weakly, had grown brighter, stronger. It was not, as he thought, do to Greed or Lust, rather it was Pride that lit the flame. Ava, it seemed, would remain an enigma to the demon, remain an interesting puzzle to prod and observe. It might not be noticed by her, or at least not the effect it was having upon her soul's essence, but he was certain, in the coming days, that the weariness would fade in time. Perhaps then things of further interest could be done. Still, her misunderstanding of how much indulging in sin could do for her was something he felt, at the very least, she was owed for outmaneuvering him in her own way. The respect of a demon, given unto a mortal in the form of knowledge. How novel an idea.

"As much as I might currently wish to prove that I am more than simply 'half-way decent in bed', I believe you've decided that course of action out of the question. A shame, it might do you some good, though perhaps in no tangible way." He stepped out as well, though was far less interested in toweling off. Water, such a rarity in hell, was left to drip slowly down his frame. It would be deal with soon enough, either removed with his own power or left to evaporate of its own accord into the air. Rather, he allowed himself to keep his more genuine smile, small as it was, even as his eyes, brighter with the unsatisfied lust within, move about the room, seeking but never finding some release, though always returning to the naked Ava. So much temptation to the tendril of lust that wrapped around his essence, coiling endlessly through his being. But he kept his grip on it, contained it within. Perhaps she could be tempted later, for though she'd stamped down her lust now, it had every opportunity to return at some later time. "There's a reason demons prefer human souls steeped in sin. The essence grows stronger indulging in things that grant pleasure and release. The stronger the essence, the more strength one possesses, at least on a metaphysical level. More importantly to you, the soul is linked to the body. A soul that goes dim drains physical vitality, makes one weary, weak, uninterested in life. I'd imagine working the magic you did, rending reality to bring me forth, left your soul weak, a sputtering flame of what it once was. Indulging might fix that, though there are, of course, other sins that work just as well."