The Deal (Closed for WhisperedDesires)

[WhisperedDesires]

"How very demonic of you."

And how very interesting, as ever. Ava, so concerned with keeping him away from others, of proffessing her interest in protecting others from his influence, yet far be it for her to get any more involved than that. Alas, if she was washing her hands of it, so would he... for now. The girl would be twisted to the ways of the demonic magics eventually, but patience was called for rather than pushing against a a stubborn, unyielding rock. That said, he'd little interest in wiping the girl's memory, she'd seen nothing more than his true form, and had little fear of him regardless. If she wanted to rid herself entirely of the girl, than the Betrayer could find a way to do it herself. Or perhaps she could entice him to do it with a proper offering of her time and pleasures. Hm...

"They may not be savages. But they have never had access to someone like you either. The power you now touch..." The demon grew quiet for a moment, considering it, the swirling chaos of that ancient, unknowable force that still clung by a thread to the woman. He was certain she did not realize the importance of what she had managed. In all honesty, HE couldn't fully understand it either, it was ancient beyond even his long years. "It is powerful. A thrumming heartbeat of something I know but cannot put my finger on. Like a thought on the tip of my tongue. If they've any intelligence, and we both know they do, they'll do everything they can to either bring you into the fold, and under their influence, or take that power from you. I've been altered as well, which means I'm even more of a curiosity, but as always a secondary prize when viewed next to you. Perhaps bait that can be used to draw you out, given your already show willingness to go quite far to retrieve what is yours."

"As for your responsibility to others," It was the demon's turn to scoff, his disinterest naked and clear. He cared very little for the community he found himself in, beyond the few he'd already begun to weave his webs around. Even then, the only one of real interest any longer had already been disregarded by the Betrayer. "I've little interest in any of them. But given the lengths you'll go to spare them my woven webs, I imagined you'd like to keep the Angelmakers from doing similar. If I am wrong, then perhaps we should throw them to the wolves and be done with it entirely."

 

[Apollo Wilde]

So much about his fixation on the girl rankled her. And normally, she would be able to logic it away, press it down - but truly, pressing it down had gotten her to this point as well.

“Forget her,” her tone was sharp. “If you spent half as much time worrying about the bargain you’ve made with me as you were with her, then you’d had my soul by now.” Jealousy, yes, she was angry enough to let that flow as well. Jealousy, annoyance. What was the point of summoning a demon, making a deal with him, if their full attention wasn’t going to be entirely devoted to their mortal host? If that was going to be the case, then she should have just stuck to humans.

She ran a hand through her thick hair, began to absent-mindedly braid it. In the flare of anger, brief as it was, she’d humored, just that quick, giving up to the Angelmakers. Maybe their collective knowledge would know what she’d tapped into, give her an idea of how to handle it. A heavy sigh.

I can’t be rash about this. Again. It’s bad enough that he’s here, but apparently my request isn’t enough to hold his attention. Might as well ask him straight out.

“Is there a way that you know of to absolve the contract? You go back to where you’re from, like this never happened?” She was truly exasperated now, tired of being stuck in the same position, tired of being stuck with him, tired of his inhuman chill. “I feel like I’m going to keep making the same mistakes with you around. I can’t hand you over to them, but there’s nothing that I can do with you.”

 

[WhisperedDesires]

"Nothing you can do with me, hm? Such hurtful words."

The demon could admit to himself that she'd discard his so easily rankled. But to show that was to admit weakness, and he wasn't going to do that in any form. Certainly not to someone who'd decide to renege on a contract already signed. That thought alone hardened his tone, shifted his attention fully to her, his eyes blazing with something akin to... pain? Hurt?

"So much effort and you'd throw it away for what? Some belief that everything can go back to the way it was? Some twisted belief that the Angelmakers will leave you alone when I am gone? Or have you forgotten entirely that it isn't me they want, tis you? A shame then, that they cannot have you."

At some point he'd stood, his power pulsing in time with his angered heart beat, filling the room, charging the air with its presence. He was out of that corner now, stalking across the room with some sense of purpose, rage building higher and higher.

"You. Are. MINE. The mark you bear, upon your back, upon your soul, is MY mark. The mark I bear upon my essence is YOUR mark. Or would you claim some other person has altered my essence, twisted it into something I do not understand?"

Almost as if to accent his point, a piece of his essence was drawn into his hand and nearly shoved into Ava's face. A demon's essence was a raging fire, burning higher and hotter the more powerful it became, the more magic was fed to it. His essence was changed, a brilliant star in his palm that projected it's light and heat into the room, sending shadows across his snarling face, revealing for a moment the demon beneath the veil once more. Then the manifestation of his essence was banished, returned to the center of his metaphysical being, and the room was normal once more.

"You speak of being rid of me. You already did so, Betrayer. I've little interest in letting you do so again. It is hardly my fault you've any idea how to direct a demon to do your bidding. Perhaps you should blame your own lack of ambition rather than some other fault."

 

[Apollo Wilde]

Once the lid off of her jealousy had been peeled back, it was natural, all too natural, for her to slip into being petty, no matter the alarm bells going off in her mind to preserve some sense of dignity.

“ ‘Hurtful words,’ please,” she scoffed, nearly snarling. He was so frustrating: nothing like the low-end, easily tricked imps she’d summoned before. “There’s nothing in you to hurt.” The words were out before she could stop them, regret was slower in coming. But even that was tainted with the reality of what she was dealing with.

He’s a demon. There’s nothing human about him. You made the deal out of desperation: of course he’s not going to tell you how to absolve it.

“Maybe they should, then!” These words were spat, though she made no move to get out of bed. Her body was still tired, despite the furious roll of her mind. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t considered the possibility of going over to the Angelmakers, and her current circumstances made it seem like it was truly the best way out of this. How silly of her had it been to humor that he would be by her side, his power aided by her own, and they’d just walk in and restructure the whole organization under her hands? “Two birds with one stone, wouldn’t it? We could just feed off of you until you’re gone, and then what? My soul would be in limbo, but it wouldn’t be in your hands.”

There could have been more, should have been more, but her attention was drawn to the energy drawn to his palm. It was coldly beautiful, the cool light of bioluminescent deep sea creatures. Like the chaos she had tapped into, it was him and yet something beyond him all the same. She would look from it to him, her eyes cautious, exploring. He was transformed, yes, but he still held the trappings of the Pit. By instinct, or from fear?

“ ‘Betrayer,’” the word didn’t bother her as it perhaps should have, when she was still under the illusion that he could have been something close to human. Despite the earth-changing coupling they’d shared the night before, none of the sentiment lingered, a coldness in the air like a hangover. Rough thoughts, half-formed ideas, and the rolling headache of trying to process a troublesome problem that refused to be solved no matter what solution was thrown at it. “Maybe you’re just shit at your job. Too afraid of a real challenge to take it up - so you spend your time on other, easier things and targets. What use would I have for you then? Might as well keep you as a battery - a defective demon. That’s funny; who knew that even among demons there were failures.”

 

[WhisperedDesires]

Failure.

Thought the thread that bound them together was weaker than the night before, emotions running high fed it well enough. Perhaps even more relevant, the fear that shot through him, the memory of slowly wasting away as his essence was devoured echoed across the connection. That alone was enough to call up other images, more ancient images, of angels descending from heaven, cast out form their own home. Of a great war, of demons being slaughtered by the sudden arrival of their attackers, of Hell's original denizens being ousted from their places, torn asunder, power stolen from them, of being ground into the dirt. Most of all, the image of a great, white winged angel, feathers painted with ichor and ash, sitting atop a throne that was not his, lips pulled into an ugly snarl as once powerful demons were tossed into the Endless Abyss as if they were mere cattle. Then it was done, the images gone, the demon slinking away to the corner he'd found himself in before, looking, if possible, like a wounded man licking at his wounds.

"I am not the one who called for a demon to soothe my broken heart."

It was, at best, a half-hearted attempt to bite back. The fire of anger had fled the demon's form, replaced by a cold fear. The fear of true death, the fear of no longer knowing what he was, the fear that for some reason he cared enough that her words hurt him at all. So many changes in such a short time, so many threads being pulled, and none of it within his control, none being pulled by him. All were in other's hands, and him left simply to react to them. So many avenues forbidden to him because he was ordered to focus entirely upon Her. What did she think, that if his attention was upon her and her alone he find some solution to her problem, that all would be fixed? Arrogance or ignorance, either way her thoughts were wrong in more ways than one. Her problems could not be handwaved away with a demon's touch, not while that demon lay shackled at her feet.

But there was little point in arguing that. Little point in arguing anything, if in her rage she aimed to turn him into a battery once more, pull his essence from him to empower herself. She'd manage it too, so much of his new essence changed by her hands. Given the time to look into it, she'd surely find some way to replicate the matter.

"Do as you will, Betrayer. If I cannot weave my webs, I'm of no use to you beyond a physical release and a stick with which to beat your enemies. An unfeeling mass of magical power given form. It must be some other being that wasted away under the tender mercies of the Angelmakers, that feared for its existence that it could not fight alone."

 

[Apollo Wilde]

They would forever pace round each other, his focus on everything else, her, trapped by the contract. Things needed to change, and he would not take the initiative, either by nature or by sheer petulance.

She sucked in a deep breath. His words didn’t sting - but they were curious. Curious enough for her to lift her head and narrow her eyes, watching him, trying to pick him apart. There was no outward change of him, of course, no flushed cheeks, no knitting of brows. The same quiet emptiness that he always had, that was utterly infuriating when she was emotional, when she needed someone human to reflect her feelings, to respond in turn, for passion to meet passion. But here he was, passive, a genie waiting for her commands. Perhaps she had overestimated his powers; perhaps he was changed by his treatment at the hands of the Angelmakers. Something to consider, the thought rolled around in her mouth as she poked the inside of her cheek.

I can’t rely on him to move on his own, unless it’s to his own interests. He’s going to have to be commanded at all times, an attack dog.

Why was that so disappointing? Had she really thought that something would have changed between the two of them, that he would have been so touched by her rescuing her that he would have swept her in his arms, the light of love in those burning embers that he called eyes? Yeah, right. What a stupid thought. And if she kept sitting here, she would continue to beat herself up over it. And there was no time for it.

A biting remark burned at the roots of her tongue, but she bit it back. She had to be rational, to slot him in where he needed to fit.

“Then I guess you’d want to make them suffer, the Angelmakers,” a distinct change in her voice, a handwave away of their emotional conversation, the resignation there. She wouldn’t worry about the contract; the assumption would be that he would never be capable of falling in love. Her soul was his, in theory, even moreso perhaps because of what happened between the two of them, but if he refused to acknowledge it, to say what was on his mind, whatever it might be, if he were even capable of higher thought, then she would leave it be. “So that’s to be my next move.”

She leaned forward, steepling her fingers together. Her body still ached, but the thought of confronting the Angelmakers made her skin hum, tripping the fine hairs on the back of her arms, the nape of her neck, magic tickling her senses like electricity. There was no discharge of it; a quiet sitting while she continued to suck magic from the world into her veins, through the elaborate lines of her back tattoo. “I’ve run from them long enough.” She looked over at him, without moving her face, a dark brown iris locking on him. “I need you to watch them. Not for long; maybe a day and a night at most. We need time to rest; they need time to recover from your loss. But we need to meet them head on at their shop. Maybe it’s time for me to stop fleeing from what they want me to be.”

 

[WhisperedDesires]

"They shall be watched."

And they would be. There was little reason for him to go against her wishes in this, for she was seeking to hurt his captors, and he relished the opportunity. Though she was expressionless now, an outward projection of the unfeeling spider, his own features stretched into a feral grin. The anticipation for him was a palpable thing. They would suffer soon enough, within his grasp or hers it would not matter. He would inflict such pain that they would beg for a death they would not receive.

"Take whatever time you need. Patience has always been my way, and if you must spin your webs slowly then do so. All the better when the trap is sprung and they are left defenseless at our feet."

He stood then, preparing to set out and being his silent vigil over the disguised coven, only to halt as something brushed against his wards. A moment to let his essence reach out, and then a grimace of annoyance. Ah, he supposed it was to be expected that she would be here so soon. But then, she'd been so very eager to bring Ava into the fold, hadn't she?

"You've a visitor. The Green Witch I think, come to see to your health and welfare. I'd imagine your condition last night did not go unnoticed, or my rather sudden reappearance..." The silent consideration, of threads being pulled, of pathways opening and closing in an endless loop of possibility. A glance in her direction once more, noticing the subtle hints of her worn body and tired soul. "I think you're in no condition to be dealing with her at the moment. Best you see to yourself, I'll handle the witch."

He was gone from the room then, a silent shadow slipped through the quiet house. It still bore the signs of their coupling, the twisting magic that had torn through the air around them at her call. The walls seem to hum with it as he passed, nearly vibrating with the barely contained power that settled upon them like dust. Even the leyline that ran underneath the house seemed to sing with it, a bright spot upon the mystical highway. Soon enough he was at the door, opening just as the unspoken leader of the community readied herself to knock. With practiced ease he settled into his role of surprise and friendliness, a small smile upon his lips but not quite reaching his eyes.

"Ah! Apologies, I didn't realize- Freya, right? It's been awhile, my own fault, I'm afraid. Is there anything I can help you with?"

 

[Apollo Wilde]

“It won’t be as long of a wait as you may think.” Deflated now, tired of the subject, of him. Of being in the same spot. A soft murmur of assent as he mentioned The Green Witch - that was to be expected. She’d let him handle it. She needed him away from her. He had a remarkable ability to infuriate and cloud the mind.

But I need more time to rest. To figure out what’s happening to my body. She raised her right hand; focused on her palm. Magic had never been a tangible thing to her - nothing so flashy or showy as to send out bolts of light like in the movies, or scream out gibberish to bring the magic from its realm into her own. But now? She could feel something pulsing through her veins, something illuminating her from the inside out. And as she flexed her hand, she could feel it warm, energy gathering within it.

That’s new.

Maybe…

Be red.

It was a whisper within her, a thought, something to focus on.

Be red.

She thought about it - the color, how it made her feel - and as simple as that, it was so. Her palm shimmered, pale crimson, white coalescing into the tangible. With her left hand, she poked at it. Like jelly, warm, slightly tacky. It moved sensuously with her jab, rolling both into her finger and away from it. A flexing of her palm, and the energy dispelled.

Hm.

That was quite something to ponder over. It felt like her; an extension of her body. But not at the same time - like she was drawing on something else. But it had felt warm, understanding, giving. Sentient, almost. Amused, interested in her. There was something of a newness about it, a curiosity at the world it was brought into, and yet, such a deep, ancient knowledge there as well.

What are you, my new friend?

___

Freya wasn’t often caught off guard. The green world that surrounded them, even with its song muted by the construction and concrete of man, was still there, still humming beneath them and around them. And last night, that song had burst forth into a veritable symphony, a heralding of the Ancients, a paean to life, to the immortal darkness that birthed all.

It had woken her up from sleep; brought tears to her eyes to hear something so beautiful. And it seemed to originate from here, as so much as her magic could tell her. It was hard to tell, the sound having been so loud that it seemed to come from everywhere, from the smallest grain of sand to the moon itself, echoing round and round, a circle song with each verse picked up before the last faded away.

But as Marlow appeared, she was surprised to see his face, and exclaimed “Oh!” Not that she was doing anything untoward, she reminded herself. Simply checking the greenery that Ava tended to. It seemed no different from the night before, not visibly. There was a residual hum, but that could be expected. The plants were open to communication, more than ever, and sing-songed gospels, praise for the earth, for the wind and sky and sun.

“Marlow…” She trailed off, not sure what to make of the man. The plants had no reaction to him one way or the other; no shrinking, no pulling towards. He seemed to be just any other man. And one she hadn’t expected to see: had it been Ava that opened the door, it would have been easier to ask. And now she was caught on the barbs of her own curiosity, not sure what to ask.

“I just wanted to talk to Ava about that power outage; make sure that the lights and all were back up and running here. Darndest thing I’ve seen in a while!” The lie came easily, fed as it was on the truth. “The guy from the city said that a breaker made have tripped here; he wasn’t sure entirely. I just wanted to make sure that she was okay and if she needed anything, that she could come on by.”