Kindred Shadows Draw Near [Painterlee, Closed]

[Nascent]

"Tut tut tut," The old devil chided, grinning. "You shouldn't believe everything you hear. Or read. Or see performed -- especially by me. But yes..." He turned back towards her with a shrug. "He did leave that behind, just as you suspect. But whether I've been saving it for a rainy day or decided to savor it on the spot... well, something for another time. As you just said, we haven't finished 'getting to know' each other yet."

"I actually have a suggestion in that regard, something that -- if the hate I hear in your voice each time you say 'man' is any indication, might just be of interest to you. If you are, take a little look into my thoughts now."

He focused his mind for a moment, willing the information to the forefront. She already knew that he spread his name in order to spread his influence, but the requests were likely something she wasn't aware of -- wasn't something he made common knowledge, after all. There were several right now, people who wanted to make deals with him in one way or another, and not all in exchange for their souls. Some were offering up the souls of others, or simply hoping for an intervention by darker powers, and such was the request by a woman named Juviel Lestrine. She was now a blacksmith's apprentice in a small town in Jadenshine but hadn't always been -- as a girl she'd been orphaned, then taken by a ring of slavers who specialized in providing "pleasure girls" to the sons of well-off nobles. For years she'd been bought and sold like a mere slab of meat and used little differently, forced to satisfy the appetites of vulgar clients just to "earn" the meals they gave her. Finally, though, she'd grabbed a knife one night, stabbed a client, and fled into the night.

"Now," Mephisto spoke aloud. "She wants revenge. The clients, the slavers, she wants them all to suffer and die. When she first... called out to me she mentioned a list she was after, likely in the hands of the slavers themselves. We've not yet discussed payment..." His crimson gaze searched hers for clues. "But perhaps another arrangement can be made. How about, as you put it, a second date? It could be quite enjoyable: infiltrating a cutthroat criminal organization under false pretenses, gathering information on whom they've used and who's using them... perhaps a spot or two of artful murder? It's an open invitation..."

"...and, if you agree, I'll answer a few of your questions, hm?" The daemon arched an inquisitive eyebrow. "And if you like afterwards perhaps we'll both be in the mood for a bit of play. It's your choice, lady Faustus."

[November]

A grim smile took the place of her serious expression at this most interesting offer of his. A young girl abused, who had killed, now wanting revenge. It was the kind of thing she'd look for out and about. It played to her cards. She'd suspect a trap, but surely he wasn't that stupid. After all, she had free access to his head and she'd use that pass as often as she needed to. She kill him before he had a chance to remember what she could do if she so much as smelt something rotten. But still, she smiled, and a keen, sharp gaze connected with his. "I didn't realize I was a bounty hunter for you now. Answering prayers." Still, it all seemed to accurate. It appealed to her too much, and he knew. She steadied herself, either way. For a few moments, she simply thought about it. On one hand she'd be doing as this man said, on the other, she'd be killing many more. Torturing a few, perhaps.

She took a thoughtful breath, and nodded. "I'll do it. On...one condition..." Belle moved back towards him, slowly, deathly, with a glint of more than murderous intent in her icy blue eyes. A longing for something much more savory. She stood close to him, and her voice a whisper, she continued "-I get the ring leaders, her top few bastards, to myself. For a while." Then she stood up straight again, no means of hiding her words, that lustful and violent intend hid away in the back of her eyes again, and for a second, Mephisto had seen the real demon behind that pretty face. "I don't know when you want to do this thing but I'm pretty much free while I let the Duke freak out over his loss."

Her eyes faded back into the bright, flirtatious orbs she had been wielding thus far, shifting her weight back onto one leg. "I make no promises about anything more than a date though." A playful wink as she stared him down "A girl can't run on an empty motor, after all, and you had me started and singing like a dream not too long ago. Until the party crashers ruined it." She shot a backwards glance toward his little minions. "Do it again...and we'll see, won't we?"

[Nascent]

"You needn't worry -- they'll be staying behind." The red-haired devil reassured her, walking up to her with arms held open in a compliant gesture. "And don't misunderstand; I'm not trying to get you to do my work for me. Quite the contrary. I've been getting enough of these requests lately that I've had to pick and choose, so I wasn't even sure whether I'd give this one my attention or no. After all, I'm not exactly in the vigilante business, much less 'bounty hunting' as you put it. But I'd been hearing rumors for quite some time now of a... a manhunter, if you like. True, I haven't yet seen you at work, but from everything you've said... well, the glove fits, I think. I simply thought you might enjoy yourself, and I'd get to see you in action."

Stepping back a step, he gave her a half-bow of acquiescence. "I agree to your terms, and in fact I'll sweeten the deal. Once we've spoken to..." The devil smiled at her. "Well, I like to call them 'supplicants' at this stage, but you know what I mean. Once we've spoken to miss Lestrine for the details and know where we're going, you may have the lead and I'll follow it. Truth be, I get tired of making all the calculations and arrangements all the time -- it'll be nice to see the hand of... a fellow practitioner of the 'art', for a change."

"And all I'd ask in return..." He bowed, deeper and more theatrically this time, eyes locked on hers. "Is to know your name, as you know mine. How does that suit your... what did you call it, 'motor?', lady Faustus?"

[November]

Belle openly laughed, hearty and genuine, probably for the first time in a while, and certainly the first time that night "My name is my name. I hold no real value to it. Names don't turn me on. So honestly, it doesn't suit my motor very well." She smirked playfully at him and all his grandeur. Mephisto was interesting, not quite what she had expected, and he certainly wasn't as on the ball with her as he would like to be. Granted that she had only ever been, at the nearest, within 10 foot of him, she didn't really have all that much room to make an assumption about him. All she knew was that he was a man with great power, who was created by her father but not quite a brother, a man who didn't have a beginning. He was timeless. If he was endless or not, she'd have to find out. No manner of poking and prodding in that head of his was going to tell her if his death would ever be permanent. But she would welcome him every time. A battle never to be won nor lost.

A dance for all eternity?

The necklace appeared in her hand again, as it came to her whim. For a few moments she looked over it again, almost unwilling to part with it. "I went through a lot to get this, and I still have need of it." She caught his eyes, bit her lip, and threw the curious jewel for him to catch. "Look after it. Maybe you could find a way to...reverse it's effects." She pulled her hood over her head, hiding her blonde-hair, her bright blue eyes only barely traceable behind the vale of shadow it cast upon her face. "Maybe, while you're at it, you can think on tonight." Then she turned, and began to walk down the other side of the ruins, on to other things. "Figure out what really works on me. You did quite well, you just need to learn how to hold onto it." A sly grin from behind the hood as she contiuned on her way into the night. "I know it's hard, you can't just climb into my head for the answer. But if you really want to play, I expect you to work for it."

"I will come to your little job, but I'm running quite the show here. You have a time or a date, or shall I call you back, Mephistopheles?"

[Nascent]

He caught the valuable jewelery with an adroit ease and paid her words their due attention. Yes, something had been off -- and not just his minions ruining a very private moment, either. This woman, this she-devil, was a puzzle indeed, an alluring mystery he couldn't help but be attracted to. Whether it was possible to truly 'solve' her was another question altogether... but one he would thoroughly enjoy attempting to uncover.

"Actually..." He spoke up. And then, like clockwork, he heard a new voice echo in his damned soul, and grinned.

"Ah, right on schedule." Mephisto flashed her a grin. "You see, every night for the last two months she's been entreating my name... got her hands on some conjurer's spell-book and fashioned a homemade summoning ritual. It doesn't work, mind -- I don't think she's of the magical persuasion -- but we've spoken, once, so she keeps trying it every night at the same time." He chuckled nervously. "I was actually a bit worried that tonight she'd give up, but it seems the woman is as persistent as she is vengeful."

The elder daemon held out his hand, open to her. "If you'd like we can go to her now -- another of my powers, one Faustus neglected to completely seal away. I suspect it should be possible for you to traveli n the same way I do once 'summoned', so long as you're willing to try."

"What say you, lady Faustus? Why let the night be over so soon?"

[November]

Belle froze as she sensed the connection between Mephisto and the woman of conversation. She knew what he was going to say before he said it. All a matter of timing. After a few moments, she looked back at him. Indeed it seemed that this patron of his was certainly intent on his assistance. Though Belle was of the mind that she shouldn't need assistance to overcome her servitude, and certainly not the assistance of a man. You didn't break free that way, and doing so only meant that you would never be free of your captors. They'd succeeded in making you dependent on them, on other men.

Turning to face him, she pulled the sleeve on her left arm from her glove, and then opened one of the satchels that adorned her belt. Reaching into it, she pulled out what looked like a syringe, almost crude in design. "Thanatos has all manner of weird and wonderful things-" She put the point to the skin in the inside of her elbow and pressed "-including that of basic science." A second of pain as the point broke the skin, and the piston was pushed "I haven't eaten or slept in days, I hope you understand." When whatever was inside of it's opaque case was emptied into her blood, she pulled in out. "Luckily, there are somethings in this world that can help you carry on in such cases." Examining it, she threw it to the ground, and began to roll the sleeve back into the glove. "Unfortunately, it's a one use thing. They haven't quite nailed the reset mechanism." She twisted her neck, letting whatever it was in the syringe set in before she did anything.

Feeling a resurfacing of energy, pushing down her bodies screaming need to sleep, she began forward towards her host again, pulling her hood down. She wouldn't need it anymore. "I wasn't planning on having to use another one of those." The she-demon sighed, disappointed and exasperated, a little more sway in her hips, just little more fire in her icy blue eyes. "They're hard to get hold of. I not sure if it'll kill me or not yet. If I'm really even alive." She paused before his hand and smirked to herself, closing her eyes briefly in amusement. "So, as a deal..." Opening them again, she caught his gaze with serpentine eyes. "You pay for my meal, and you pay for my room." And she place her hand within his.

He wasn't allowed to turn down her deal. She wouldn't let him.

[Nascent]

Always another fascinating trick with this one, it seemed -- always a new twist, a new surprise, something clever and different with a pleasant edge of the insidious. By whatever gods ruled the dark, he wondered if he'd ever get over just how deliciously different and dangerous she was. His eyes sparkled dimly as he nodded his agreement.

"Dinner, the best room money can buy in Jadenshine," Mephisto, without even looking, caught two small bags of coins tossed to him by one of the troupe. "And whatever that... device was, I'll cover replacing it as well."

The sheer fact she still had the needs of mortals to such an extent both confounded and intrigued him. Just what was this woman -- demon-in-flesh, as he was, or mortal-born ascending, as he thus suspected? It seemed the latter, but he couldn't help but wonder... maybe old Faustus had experimented on another in addition to himself, with false memories implanted and...

Conjecture. It would get him nowhere, in truth. That, and they had business to take care of yet.

Their hands together, the old devil reached out with his mind, ushering words unspoken into the mind of Juviel Lestrine -- that he had heard her, that her entreaties would be answered. That retribution would be hers.

That he, and another born from 'the hellfires of her hate', as he put it in an inspired flourish, would shortly appear before her. The world around Mephistopheles blurred and distorted as the very fabric of reality, wailing at its violation, was briefly torn open to accommodate the two demons. For just a second, a blink in eternity, he felt his existence stretched over an impossible distance, a vertigo awareness of being in two many places at once and none entirely -- like being a phantom of himself, a whisper on winds that ran beneath and behind the framework of the world. Everything was impossibly dark, darker than the void, darker than death, then unbearably bright and almost painfully intense before becoming dark once more... this time the darkness between sleep and wakefulness, or something akin to it. It was the experience of not existing, then suddenly coming into being once more.

And then suddenly, there they were...

Juviel Lestrine wasn't the kind of person whom one would take for having an interest in magic and the occult. Her home, in which Belle and Mephisto found themselves, was simple and spartan in its ethos -- one room with bedroll, bucket and wash basin, wooden crates in which most of her belongings were kept and wall pegs on which her clothing hung, another set up like a miniature forge with all the tools of her trade... but it was the third room in which they found themselves, and her. This room bore a different aesthetic, one that spoke clearly of dark practices and darker intents. The floor was freshly laid wood into which had been etched thin trenches in the shape of a magic circle, scrawled with runic texts and into the hollows of which had been poured what appeared to be animal blood. A dozen red candles, placed equidistant from one another, lit everything in flickering light and shadow. The walls were hung with talismans including, curiously, the head of an especially large goat hung between two rough-spun looking banners covered in bloody hand prints. Even the ceiling was ornate, in an unsettling way, an iron emblem of a skull with four horns inlaid into the otherwise simple woodwork. There were no windows and the only door, which was shut, was barred and bore three sets of locks and a chain. Clearly, someone had been very very busy.

In contrast to these ceremonial elements, the woman herself was very much what they'd been expecting. She still wore her blacksmith's apron and still had the soot from a day working her master's forge on her face and well-muscled forearms. Her eyes, a deep cobalt blue, mixed shock and elation with terror at the sight of her sudden visitors, and she scrambled to her feet from where she'd been kneeling moments before and more or less fell against the door.

"You... you're here! You're actually here!"

A moment passed in silence before she added. "But how can you... you are...??"

"Mephistopheles, yes." Mephisto reassured, holding a finger to his lips. "Our little secret, if you please. And," He gestured towards the demoness. "If you don't mind, I brought a... friend."

[November]

For a while Belle simply glared at this woman. Not what she had expected, unlike him. Turning her head up at her after this devil had 'introduced her', with nothing short of a poisonous eye in his direction, and then in hers. Slowly she stepped forward, precise and calculated, and completely full of judgement. No. Not all what she expected. Not someone she would peg to take such steps as to believe a simple tale in order to fulfill her desire for vengeance. Belle pushed past Mephisto and came upon the cowering woman like a ominous foreboding. For some time Belle just stood over her, and ice fire brewed in her eyes. There hung a silence. 

Then Belle took hold of the woman's jaw and stared into her dark eyes with harsh disappointment. "Look at you." Belle spat. "You have enough power in those arms of yours to take care of these men you so hate." Letting her go violently against the door, Belle stood back. "The fact you need to call upon a man when your physically capable of washing your past yourself does the opposite of extend my mercy." She breathed deeply, peering deep into the eyes of the mortal before her. "You let them destroy your spirit." In her eyes, at least, that woman was physically capable of sorting her own problems with the men she apparently had a vendetta against.

It was almost disappointing. Not that it mattered terribly to her willingness to perform this little job. It just changed her reasoning behind doing it at all. "I was so hopeful. I need another woman in my life. Way too many men for it to be healthy." Turning towards Mephisto, she sighed. "While I am a little defused at your choice of subject." She peered over her shoulder at the woman who was meant to be so furious. They hadn't left her maimed and she was healthy looking enough. No sign of disease and although her mind was filled with rage as the knowledge of those men she didn't have the space left for her own vengeance. She had lost her will to really fight back. "If she can show me some spirit I might still be interested in taking up your errand."

"I don't help those who cower, and let themselves be broken."

[Nascent]

No sooner had Belle finished speaking than a steel-fingered hand clamped down on her shoulder -- not Mephisto's, but Juviel's. There was spark of anger in her gaze that was quickly growing into a bonfire and threatened to be so, so much more. The woman smithy glared at Belle with a sense of outrage that, for but a moment, reminded Mephisto of what the succubus herself had shown him not more than an hour ago in the sea-side town.

"You...," Juviel spat the words. "Whoever you are, don't you DARE judge me like that. Not when you have NO GODS-FORSAKEN IDEA what I've BEEN THROUGH!"

The woman's other hand clenched and unclenched, as though she was seriously debating on whether or not to try to punch Belle out. In the end, however, she released her grip after a moment and stepped back, arms folded and a look of defiance on her face.

"I didn't call upon a man to solve my problems -- I reached out for power, and quite frankly I don't give a flying damn where it comes from." Her gaze traveled from Belle to Mephisto -- who stood back passively, for the moment only an observer. "If I could've taken care of the Rasaldani family myself I would have. Hells," And here she drew back the bar, hastily undid the locks, and flung open the door to her small workshop. Bound, gagged, and tied to one of the main beams of the house was a man, apparently of some affluence by the cut of his now tattered and halfways burned off clothes, who'd clearly been tortured -- and recently. There were scalding marks on his chest, his arms, and his face. One of his ears had been cut off and the wound cauterized, roughly. He had apparently slipped into unconsciousness at some point but the slamming open of the door jolted him awake, fresh panic in his eyes. "It's not like I haven't been trying. But this sod hasn't been as helpful as I'd hoped -- doesn't have the information I need. And that's what this is all about."

Juviel stepped up to face Belle once more, the two women standing just as close as they'd been when Belle took her jaw in hand. "You think those bastards broke me, that I willingly cowered before them? You're WRONG. They have my sister -- it's how the Rasaldani's work. When they take women for their 'business' it's always with an attachment, something to keep them in line -- someone to threaten, beat up, cut bits and pieces off of if need be to avoid 'damaging the merchandise'. Fathers, mothers, daughters, sons, brothers, sisters, spouses, friends, doesn't matter. They take whoever you cherish most, hold them hostage, and threaten to destroy them if you don't do exactly as you're told."

She pointed to the racks along the wall, where blades and armor hung, expertly crafted but never used. "If it was just about force I'd have stormed their manor months ago, but I won't risk it. I thought I'd abandoned my sister to them -- thought about killing myself -- until I found out they were using her the same as me, threatening each of us with the other." She stepped back, took a deep breath.

"I found out about a year ago she was alive. We had these silver pendants -- a matching set, crafted by my father. A customer brought hers to the smithy where I work to be appraised and I recognized it, said he'd been given it by a dancing girl along with my name. Apparently he'd come in looking for more information when fate had us stumble onto each other. He didn't know much -- said she'd been part of a traveling group that entertained and..." The woman spat, then almost chocked on the word. "'Comforted' wealthy patrons across eastern Serendipity."

"I vowed to find her. Swore I'd get her out, safe and sound." Juviel's fists clenched again and, in a voice that was just above a whisper but with all the raging fury of a battlecry, added, "And then see to it that those pigs who ruined our lives drowned in their own blood."

"Ah... now I see." Mephisto thoughtfully stroked his facial hair. "The list you mentioned wasn't about the family's business contacts... you want to know where your sister is."

"I want everything." Her gaze traveled to the red-haired demon. "First, my sister's safety, then for every last one of those swine to pay DEARLY. And I'm prepared to do whatever it takes -- anything, even give up my soul to you. Just help me get the list and give me the power to take my revenge, PLEASE!"

The daemon-playwright held up one hand to pause her. "We'll determine whether or not your soul is required some other time. My associate and I... well, let's just say that this isn't about payment for us at the moment. Very likely another arrangement can be made. For now, though, just keep all of this -- everything about us and your plans -- quiet."

He turned a curious eye to the demoness, interested to hear her thoughts after all that had been said.

[November]

The silence was allowed to settle between this other woman and herself. Belle stared with indifferent, cold eyes towards they who had called them here for a while in that grotty shack, dimly lit and unwelcoming. At least she was desperate. At least she was still furious. The mix was powerful in it's own right, Belle had known it, and often times it was seeing it in others that could truly make her relive her horrors, why she was this way. It reminded her why she was, indeed, alive. That she would have been dead long ago. The she demons eyes glossed a dark crimson, locking gazes with the blacksmith so she might understand what she was. Lifting her own head up, and a maniacal grin formed in her lips. "That's much better." Then she turned to Mephisto and chided playfully "You should take lessons from her. I don't think I needed that shot." Then she turned back and walked once again towards their 'client'.

"But-" Belle leaned in, pressing the presence of her blood-soaked eyes into the blue depths of the other. "I do have an idea. I can't say much for your love of a sibling, though." A chuckle, like at a fond memory. "The skeleton of mine is currently hanging upside down in a manor somewhere. Really livens the place up." There was almost a cheer in her voice, an upbeat fondness of the image. The little decoration she had hung up too long ago to remember clearly. Not taking her eyes off of the other woman, Belle directed her speech toward the red-haired devil standing further afield. "I don't know what you're planning to do with her, or with anything she has to say or offer, but I would request that you don't take her soul-" A quick pause "-It's hard enough as a woman to remember you have one." The weight of the words hung on her voice. A solemn reminder to herself that she really didn't.

[Nascent]

The wry devil raised an eyebrow at 'taking lessons' from the blacksmith but otherwise didn't speak, at least not on that point. When she mentioned the familial skeleton a grin joined the querious expression, which took on a rather amused and approving demeanor. It was only when Belle addressed him directly that he shrugged and replied.

"As I mentioned earlier, I'm more than content to let you run this show if you like. Seems a good fit for you, at that. The terms and conditions are yours to decide and I won't get in the way, regardless."

"I should mention, while we're still on the subject," Mephisto added. "That I have some awareness of the Rasaldani family and their business. They do more than just kidnapping and slave trafficking -- they have endeavors in nearly every branch of criminal activity in eastern Serendipity. Smuggling, blackmail, racketeering, and so forth. The head of the family, a rather sly man named Facin, deposed his father about a decade back in a bloody coup. They're well off and likely well armed, too. I've never had dealings with them myself, but I've been patron to a few other..." He gestured dramatically with one open hand to accent his next word. "... unfortunate individuals who've run afoul of them in the past."

"What I'm saying is, there are several angles we could play. But the real question is how you want to proceed."

Juviel was standing back a bit now, still looking angered but also confused. "You're not at all how I pictured you, to be honest. Was expecting less... business... and more... I dunno, damnation? Hellfire? At least a contract signed in blood or something."

"Dramatic, but impractical. I like to keep these matters simple when I can."

"And I'm not at all sure what to make of your 'friend'," Juviel turned to Belle. "Are you a demon too? Do all demons look like... well, people? I'm just... I'm really confused by all this, that's all."

[November]

Juviels question caught the damnable woman off guard a little. Mostly because even Belle didn't really know how to respond to it. "I could be, if you wanted me to be." Those words spoke the truth of Belle's own understanding of her 'life'. She wasn't human, but she wasn't exactly a demon. She needed to eat and sleep, or otherwise find ways of keeping herself going. She had to do what people did. But she had powers beyond them, she lived longer than them and didn't age. Occasionally she would have horns, bloody eyes and pale skin but that was it. Simply, she lived in a void. Stuck between demonhood and humanity, equal, and no closer to one than the other. "Demons don't look like humans naturally, of course. It's a mask. Or, at least, mine is. It's hard to do questionable business when you look like you just crawled from Hell." Then she turned to Mephisto, eyes suddenly filled with curiosity. "Not sure about you though."

"Also, I wouldn't call me his friend. We've already had that little discussion and he's only really known me for about, oh-" A thoughtful look came upon her face, trying to nail an estimate "Maybe a couple of hours?" And then a grin. Maybe Juviel would understand then, that anyone in this room was pretty likely to kill anyone else. They didn't know each other, they had no attachment to each other. The feeling in the little room suddenly became very tense with that knowledge. All of them completely untrustworthy. But it seemed this little show was Belle's to run, and while she wasn't awfully keen on taking anything from this woman, she had to weigh up costs. Though that had never bothered her in the past. She was the golden light for women over the globe. Crawled in, killed 'masters', freed their 'comfort women', extracted unfortunate accidents, gave them enough money to start over, and vanished as quickly as she'd arrived. A ghost for the troubled. A gift for the captive.

But Belle certainly wondered at the depth of this woman's hate. Was it like hers? Was she willing to let it consume her, or would she let it go when she had her prize. Belle eyed her new business with keen, leering eyes as she thought briefly over what she could give, before she made an offer. "I am not the type to take from my sisters, this has always been true." Belle started, abruptly, truthfully, absolute and strong. It was clear in her mind. She would not see Mephisto steal a soul where it had been already been stolen. "I offer a few choice words, gold, hope, anger. I'll give you whatever you need to escape the wretched hold of man..." The fiery woman cocked her head as she examined Juviel again, closely, offering honestly in her eyes. "I cannot give power as far as I am aware, however. Even trying would probably come at a great cost to yourself, and success would have it's pitfalls, as does immortality."

"I do not know the true extent of your anger, or the deepness of your love for your sister. All I know is I love you both, and I would give her what she needed, too." A strong, unexpected choice of words. The she demons prerogative slowly revealed itself to both Mephisto and their client. After a moment of silence, Belle knelled before Juviel in a show of service. "I do not request anything that you do not request yourself. I will give you whatever it is you need. I ask no payment, I ask no price, I simply ask for you to never let go of your rage and to remember that it makes you strong. If, by the time you reunite with your sister you might both wish to attempt the transaction of my power to you both, you need only called upon this Devil. I will not separate you both even in death." The icy eyes of the monster stared back, knowingly, into the dark blues of the others.

"I am at your service."

[Nascent]

Even with how little time they'd spent in each other's company, Mephisto found himself more than a bit caught off guard by Belle's... he wasn't even sure what term to apply to it. Convictions? Sense of purpose? He'd assured her earlier that he wasn't in the vigilante business -- apparently, that wasn't quite the same for her. She would... serve... the other woman's interests, just so long as she never let go of her anger? To see the woman, the daemoness who was so very ready to demonstrate her anger to him mere hours ago, bowing to a mortal...

He'd have to ponder this. As ever, she was more than she seemed. Was this nameless demonic woman truly 'demonic', or some manner of vengeful dark angel sent upon the world in judgement? She was advocate and weapon for women under the abusive thumb of men, that much now seemed clear...

Mephisto smiled softly to himself. A revolution waiting to happen, that's what she was.

Juviel, for her part, was struck silent. The blacksmith who so recently had looked ready to try and punch out the demoness for perceived insults her now stood, jaw slack and eyes wide, looking at Belle kneeling in front of her. She wasn't at all sure what to make of this twist of events; she'd pursued the summoning of a demon to help her, yes, but had fully expected it to cost her everything. One final act of retribution, along with giving her sister a second chance, and that was it. Over. Finished. If not dead, then damned into the eternal service of a hellish terror for the rest of eternity -- and likely both. This... this was...

Unbelievable.

The first tears fell without her even realizing she was crying, only coming to her awareness when they fell upon her now-trembling hands. Had a mirror been handy the young blacksmith would have seen herself as a strange and fascinating portrait -- face smeared with a layer of soot, tear-streaks cutting clean lines down to create a look almost akin to a stage mask. What did the demoness, who had moments earlier made her promise to never release her anger, think of her now? Did she seem weak? Frail? Unworthy? Or did she, as a woman, understand her? She'd called her 'sister'...

And before she even realized it, Juviel had fallen to her knees and thrown her arms around Belle, weeping against her shoulder, sobbing and quaking uncontrollably. She could barely murmur out "I've... I've been alone with my anger for so long. So many years! I thought I... I always would be. I almost gave up and died! You..."

"How can I ever thank you enough?!"

Leaning against a corner of the candle-lit incense-infused room, Mephisto merely observed impassively. He seldom got to observe people like this, to see humans -- anyone, really -- exchange empathy and be... humane. So foreign was it to his experiences that even after thousands of years it still made him feel a bit... awkward, like the only stranger at a party of close friends. He wasn't even sure he had the capacity to feel what the demoness and the blacksmith were experiencing right now, either through daemonic nature or the fact that Faustus had created him bound to the concept of 'male', amongst other things. That fact of not knowing -- and not even knowing whether he did or didn't want to know -- was strange to him... strange enough to get him thinking. Humans were so fragile, so limited, so base and trite and callow... yet capable of rising to more than they were, of becoming more than they started out as. By contrast, a 'forged' demon like himself would always be as he was, limited to the nature he'd been created with. There was far less room to flex and even less to 'grow' in the mortal sense. He'd been far wiser, more cunning, more powerful and knowledgeable than any mortal-born ever was on the day they came into being, and he'd still hold that advantage over most of them for however long he lived...

But sometimes he wondered at that thing called 'potential'. And it made him think.

Stepping away from the wall, and careful not to interrupt the women, he quietly made his way over to the forge and examined it. Yes, he could work with this. Belle was right to prize the woman's anger so -- not only because it reflected her own, but because such an emotion was a catalyst for power amongst mortals. He couldn't 'grow' the way she, and perhaps even the demoness, could... but he could accomplish other things. Things he'd been made with the capacity for. And Faustus had made Mephisto to offer certain... gifts. And he was in an especially giving mood.

Flashing a devilish grin at Juviel's tortured hostage, Mephisto generated a black dagger in his hand and gripped it tightly. The man seemed caught somewhere between exhaustion and terror, his eyes wide but droopy as he fearfully stared at the weapon. The old devil held it up for him to see, enjoying the victim's fear for a few moments... before quietly, with only a slight hiss of pain, cutting a bloody line across his own palm. Dark, unearthly light glimmered dimly from the wound and drops of black, like the darkest of inks, fell from it -- first upon the anvil, where they seemed at once absorbed into the metal surface, and then into the blazing embers of the forge. The latter burned afresh, dark red and impossible black flames rising amidst the more common variety, hissing like tiny serpents and they rose, danced, and quelled. Yes... that should do it. The dagger vanished and the wound began to close up.

Hatred. Anger. That, at least, he truly understood.

[November]

Her life couldn't be defined as exactly like Juviels, or exactly like Mephistos. Feeling the broken woman wrap her arms around her was enough to prove that her existence danced a line between them. Belle was in the business of dealing righteous rage, and giving much needed hope at no expense, no cost. Just to carry their experiences on their chest like medal. They had all won and lived to survive another day. That alone was enough to be proud of in this world, being what they were. She pressed into the sooty hair of the other woman, all but bothered by it, she hugged her back, as a protector and a guardian. "I see it this way. What I do requires no thanks, nor any payment, because situations like these should never have to happen. They shouldn't exist." The pained demon held Juviel closer for a short time, her voice just a harsh whisper "Keep that pain close, always. Let it guide you. It won't fail you, for it's the most personal thing you have. No one can take it from you, ever." She felt her pain, her suffering. Belle fed off of it like Mephisto did his own name, chanted loudly by the masses. The anguish was Belle's power, her reason, the cause of her earthly presence.

Belle let Juviel go with a kiss to the forehead, softly, helping her keep foot as she rose, breathing in her suffering, catching the Devils deeds in the corner of her eye. "Take your time. I will get you your list. I will promise the men I find will suffer. In fact, I'll track a list myself. I can always do with a pass time." So, this was her deal, as she sunk back into her back-handed persona with ease. It was not a devils deal, though she wasn't far from it in most eyes. Perhaps, it seemed, Belle thrived too much on her anger. Not that she stopped to think about it. Since an age ago filled with heavenly music, it had become all she had.

Eyeing Mephisto, she decided it was best to not say anything seen. It might play into her hands later on. His thoughts were certainly interesting. Though he certainly had a better idea of what she was, how she worked, than any man she had ever had the displeasure of being involved with. Maybe that was down to their beginnings. They shared the same creator, and though he had treated them differently, they were treated just as badly. Maybe that's also why she didn't feel quite as hateful towards him. They had some understanding of each other, naturally. Though, he still prized what any man she had ever met had; domination. To take over. No matter what way, and what how, Belle could never let a man rule the world while she lived. "So..." She began walking up to her Crimson-haired associate, giving the shaking woman one last glance, making sure that she was ok. She placed a curious hand on his shoulder. "Now that the political side of this deal has been made, I think I'm ready to prepare for this little escapade. Starting with some food, and a bed."

She lowered her voice. "Not sure if I'm willing to share, yet."

[Nascent]

He grinned at her knowingly. "In your own time, if you like. But yes," He extended a hand to her once more. "Dinner awaits."

Mephisto cast his gaze back to the tear-streaked blacksmith who was drying her eyes and smiling faintly with relief. "We'll be departing now, but you needn't worry -- we shall return. Just continue as you have... though, to be honest, you needn't bother with all the incense and goat's blood." The bemused smile on his face wasn't disdainful -- more like the amusement of a parent in a child traipsing around in clothes much too big for them. "Just call out my name, even in a whisper. When we're ready, we'll return."

Juviel nodded, then seemed quizzical. "What about her name?" She looked at Belle. "You haven't said yet. I want to know who I owe my gratitude to."

"No, she hasn't said." Mephisto fixed Belle with a gaze of his own, one eyebrow quirked upwards, before replying to Juviel.

"Let's just say she's..." He thought about it for a moment, looking Belle up and down as if in a search for inspiration.

"... The Woman."

And with that, the two demons disappeared as they'd come, leaving Juviel to marvel at the whole experience and wonder what was coming next.



------------------------



One Hour Later...

Jadenshine, being amongst the most wealthy of all Serendipity's provinces, was flush with those who followed and pursued wealth. That being so, it would no doubt be of little surprise to the demoness that Mephisto 'knew' someone in the more opulent cities -- if by 'knew' one meant 'had his hooks into. The elder demon had to do no more than whisper a command into the man's corrupted soul and the name Mephistopheles fell from the crooked merchant's lips, allowing the two of them to traverse over a day's journey in a heartbeat.

Ilaceth's claim to fame was three-fold. Historians purported that the town was Fey or even possibly Elven in its origins, having been abandoned in a forgotten age and reclaimed by early settlers of the region, leaving behind only its name and a few very exotic buildings. Being a port town along the vast, winding Ora river meant it was a trade town, bustling and full of life, but it also boasted some of the best seafood to be had in the entire province. Lastly, Ilaceth was a culinary mecha, a laboratory of tastes and scents where many of the best established cooks were not only exceptional and popular but trained in using magic as well, leading to all manner of distinctive local flavor.

The place to which Mephisto took the deadly beauty was 'Shaus Flair', regarded as an upscale eatery amongst upscale eateries. It was normally fairly busy and reservation only, but a bit of coin and a few whispered words by the red-haired devil and suddenly a table for two had 'opened up'. The entire restaraunt had a faux-elven flair that bordered on the absurd -- spindly wire-thin colums supported by enchantments, false-gold trimmed leaves and boughs appearing to grow together to form the celings and walls, and an additional enchanment created the illusion that the floor was made of 'solid' water, rippling with every step upon it. Their table was on a second floor balcony, one of only three to be so, overlooking the town (which was almost a small city, but with all the pretentions of a capital). The waiter had already brought them their drinks; Mephisto sipped idly on a glass of sparkling red-gold wine the color of glowing amber, staring at Belle's face with a perpetually curious, interested, and amused face.

"I beg to know," He said, breaking the silence between them. "Are you always so generous? Or is it purpose that drives you, rather than charity?"

"I admit," He leaned back slightly. "Until I realized who you were I never gave very much thought to... the family of 'that man'. I think I accompanied him to the manor all of perhaps twice, and he seldom mentioned any of you. But even as a child you had a striking face, piercing eyes... even more-so now, I dare say."

"But I suppose the real question is..." The devil leaned forwards, swilling his drink around in the ornate glass. "Why seek me out? What is it you're really after, dear lady?"

[November]

For a while, Belle was simply happy to revel in the silence, as they came to find themselves a city a good distance away from their previous, rather dank, location. It was a world apart. Filled with life, wealth, luxury. There was an air of life and activity to the place that all buzzing cities boasted. A moment of recuperation was much needed for the fiery demoness, with a glass in hand as she took in the night time, the lights of the surrounding landscape, the slight noise of life emanating from every corner of the city she now found herself in. They were like any other pair of wandering roamers. No one would really guess from the outset that they were something different from them. The fact that they sat upon a high perch, watching the world below in some high-end sit said that in another way though. The contemplation was good enough for now, as she cataloged the night so far.

Shiki's Theme
Kara No Kyoukai~

The ice-eyed woman stared outwards before, with the crimson-haired mans words, her gaze awoke and her eyes drifted back over towards him with an almost sleepy expression. She shifted in her seat, trying to awaken herself slightly. The alcohol embraced her creeping fatigue like an old friend. A duo whose hobby was to crash other peoples parties.  "I wouldn't call myself generous, given circumstances, so yes, I have a purpose. A demon, a devil, a chip on my shoulder..." She drifted again, turning her gaze back towards the scene outwards "...a burning anger. As you already know." Then she turned up her nose "Of course he wouldn't speak of me. I might appear to be his greatest success, but believe me, I was his greatest failure, too." Her eyes dimmed, not really focused on anything, just outward, her voice hushed in her memories. "I was his daughter." The words hung in the air around her.

She was a strange creature, she was angry, furious, she needed no one else, yet it seemed so often that she clung to the hope of acceptance she had held as a child. Like that somewhere, the child she had left behind still wanted to desperately to feel like her existence wasn't simply pain. That girl grasped at her cage and shook as if someone might hear, and be merciful.

Belle sighed after she had left his question floating about in their near-memory. She wasn't ready to take her gaze from the lights so soon. Then she turned, fully, to face the Devil, leaning with her elbows on the table, prepared to more fully hold a conversation. "I've been weaving in and out of your existence for the past few years, I must confess. See, I'd tried to tracked down my father for years, searching high a low, after I'd changed. When I arrived to find only his Laboratory, his notes, and barely enough left of him to recognize, I wasn't exactly sure what I'd been looking for.I needed a new target." She turned her eyes to meet his with a pause. "You." Belle sat up, folding her arms. "I had to find whomever had killed my father, stolen my last trophy. I wandered for years, hundreds, thousands, not really sure anymore. Until, one day, I happened into town for some...work and some fool and his troupe where putting on a performance that I almost recognized. The name? Certainly."

"I didn't so much follow you as I did find excuses to end up in the places you attended. Balls, Masquerades, Feasts, and Festivals. I needed to know you were who I'd been looking for, not some idiot who'd happened upon a folk-tail. By the time I'd planned to finally make my little entrance into your world, the former Grand Duke was murdered. It was too perfect an opportunity." Her lips framed a smug, villainous grin, her eyes practically glowing as she sat back "Let's just say I'm yet to be disappointed, and I know who did it. Figured you'd be interested."

[Nascent]

"To an extent, yes." He reached into one pocket and withdrew the necklace she had given him, running the edge of his thumb over and around the strange jewel. What a fascinating thing, this trinket... yet far less so than the devilish being who was sitting with him currently. He looked up at her and continued. "But only to an extent. I've -- we've -- seen kings, queens, grand dukes, the whole lot come and go. Even if our natural lifetimes turn out to have any sort of limit, which I doubt, we'll still outlive them all. Crowns pass hands like the weather passes through the sky, with just as much impact."

"Sometimes it shines, sometimes it rains." Mephisto's smile took on a grim aspect. "And at times a storm comes. Though I admit, it certainly does seem like there's a storm forming in Connlaoth recently."

The devilish man milled over her words as he admired his remaining wine, and her striking visage through its tint. So she could read his thoughts at will. Knew things about him that no one else did. Hated the man who'd created him, and had 'targeted' him because he'd killed Faustus first. Even knowing she was likely aware of everything going through his mind, he still couldn't resist weighing the situation up with a kind of half-giddy, half-terrified excitement. For decades upon decades upon centuries he'd always known exactly what to expect; mortals thought they had free will, but what good was it when they used it to act like complete automatons most ofthe time and wild animals for the rest? His existence thus far had been mostly dull -- even his plotting and scheming, ambitious as it was, had a predictable monotomy to it that, only with her here, was he truly beginning to understand. Everything was easy.

But she was dangerous. She was wild, independent, uncanny. He didn't know anything about her except what she chose to reveal or let slip, and she was powerful enough to upend him entirely if she so desired -- or at least, so it certainly seemed. She was to him what he was to other people: the lure of the dark unknown, the flame that begs to be played with, ever holding the advantage.

And she had him in her sights. He was truly loving it.

"You're quite the huntress to have pursued me like that, stalked me so carefully and taken me so utterly by surprise. I cannot but commend you, whether you prove the highlight of my existence, the cliff from whence I shall at last fall, or both. And like a wrapped present sitting and waiting for its appointed hour," He put the glass down and leaned towards her, eyes locked on hers. "The more I see of you the more I can barely wait to find out."

"But I have a purpose as well, dark lady." The admission came with the slightest shake of his head, as if to say that he had things to take care of, regrettably, before she had her way with him. "Like you, I was born into bondage to that man -- like you, I was both success and failure in his eyes, and like you I have rejected the purpose for which he sired me. I suspect we are not so different, despite our methods and masks. Today I have seen much of you -- though, rest assured, not nearly enough to satisfy me -- and I think I begin to understand."

"We are both agents of uprising, are we not? You, for women who exist under the oppressive regime of their entitled, empowered male counterparts. The voice of hate and vengence for those who cannot speak, one beyond human limits acting on behalf of those barely treated as human at all."

"Whereas I..." He spread his arms wide. "With all my plotting and scheming, all my weaving and waiting, with the corruption of souls and the taking of lives, my uprising is for those like myself: demons, and perhaps others, bound to the service of humans. You would punish the slave-masters, as would I. One day I plan to create a nation of daemons and summons, free from the command of lesser flesh and blood. A rebellion to shake this world to its core, and turn the present order on its head. Permanently."

"Why not join me?" His voice was just above a whisper, leaning towards her seductively, close enough almost to kiss her face. "Not as a subordinate, or my second, but as my equal in every way. Just imagine it: the kings and princes of the world brought low with the power of demoncy and dark magics, the rule of men cast into the dirt forever. The rise of the female elite, sisters and daughters taking the helm of their lives and their lands with the powers of our kind to stand beside them!"

"There is no reason it couldn't happen. Let the Grand Duke fester and stew, let the Great Houses squabble and flirt with false power. We have ages for our power and will to seep into the land like poison and make fertile the ground for our harvest. A harvest of the souls of men."

The daemon prince smiled. "Interested? Just a little?"

[November]

When he leaned in, Belle did, too, slightly. As he spoke to her of his ambitions and plans, inviting her into that mighty fold of dark existence, one of her hands found his in pacing touches. Their eyes, glinting in the light, beautiful faces with features highlighted golden with fire, gazed into the other, behind them burning a deep inhumanity. Belle did not move an inch from his face, nor break her gaze, keeping her hand always close and slightly touching his, leaving a pause in the air while the noise of the earth stayed muted from them. "I..." She started, leaving yet another pause, before suddenly moving back, standing up to look out over the balcony, her arms resting on the banner. She had taken off her belt, gloves, and coat, discarded at the door. "Have heard all that before. Not too long ago I had some demi-god's dog barking at my leg about being a Champion or some other crap. He tried to make me join their cause with 'subtly' and 'cunning' after ruining one of my little plans and instead he just killed things." She sighed, "People like him, and apparently, you, are so boring." She arched her back, stretching, highlighting her curves, breathing in the cold, sharp, air.

She closed her eyes for a short while. "It always relies on your power, or your brute force." Her words came as if she had indeed heard the same suggestion time and time again and to no avail had it ever worked. "Humans are hardy. They are strong. Demons underestimate them vastly. They will take whatever you throw at them and spit on you." The eyes of the demonic woman dimmed. "I know, because I have been a human, and I was destroyed by them. You can't attempt to over run any mortal race, for that matter, with unnatural means. I have watched hundreds of demons try and fail miserably." It seemed, for the most part, Mephisto, despite his flash and outward demeanor was still the same as she'd seen before. She turned to the devil, suddenly, stood tall, aggressive and angry, with a burning in her eyes. Like he had forced her to remind her of the nature in which she existed.

"You had me interested in your existence, in who you were, but you've shown yourself to be different only in how you carry yourself. Your goals are no different from any other pig I have met. I cannot while I live let anyone rid the world of morals. I feel what mortals feel and I've grown stronger as they have expanded, explored, and increased in number. I cannot let anyone eradicate them. Why, to my outrage and fury, I cannot just wipe men off the face of this planet." She paused and softened her stance "I am not a demon, and there are those who, in this little world of yours, would want to see me put down or destroyed because there is only one thing that separates me from humans." Belle slowly walked up to him, a solemn disappointment filled her face. Standing above him, she brushed his crimson hair out of his face, pressing a thumb to his cheek, and admired him distantly. "You are...the greatest shame. Maybe I would have gladly accepted your offer if we hadn't turned out to be so different. We share creator, and we share hate. But your plans for the future would never allow for my continued existence."

Belle didn't shift her eyes from his for the passing moments, before she caught herself slipping and she moved past him, her hand tracing over his shoulders, as she moved onto the rippling surface of the buildings floor, not far from him, before she held out her hand "I need that necklace back, by the way. I believe that our paths may part here, much to my shame."

"I don't get specimens like you often. Even less that I walk away from one without putting you to use, first."

[Nascent]

He could only sit there in the wake of her words, jaw slackened, eyes shadowed with disappointment and... and something he wasn't sure he had ever felt before. The most bizarre feeling, cold and pained, an attraction to her coupled with a sense of having lost her, somehow. It reminded him of the sensation of falling, of being alone and yearning for distraction, of the damp chill of rain-soaked clothes that refuse to come off. Mephisto found himself at a loss.

He had never known sadness before.

Her hand was there, waiting, insistent. Slowly, he placed the jeweled necklace in her grasp... though his own hand lingered there as well, not yet letting go.

"... Just a little longer." He half-murmured it, eyes downcast upon the table. When he turned his face to her it was with an expression of vulnerability that seemed altogether wrong in the strong daemonic man. "Let me... let me be with you just a little longer. At least until we've seen the business with the blacksmith through."

The next word that rolled off his lips caught him by surprise.

"Please."

Lifting his hand off of her prize, he found himself sighing heavily. He was an actor -- he knew how to act emotionally hurt, despondent, dejected through having observed humans... but for it to come from him naturally, unbidden, with this unpleasant remorseful feeling attached to it... and the burning sensation deep within as his demonic nature chaffed and cringed at the foreign essence it was unexpectedly manifesting... it was something he had simply never envisioned. "Don't take pity on me -- or do if you choose, it matters not. But I don't wish to leave your side, not like this. You have a... a way about you like no other being I've encountered. You see things that I don't, know and understand in ways... ways I may never have in my life. And I may be a... pig... just another name on your list of those who failed to understand you -- a demon, a man, who sees the world in terms of who possesses power and who does not. Yet there is one thing I believe I am not: a fool."

Mephisto rose from his seat, facing her with both a fresh look of resolve and a sense of desperation. "A fool looks upon the insights of others and believes them to be irrelevant, assured in his own superiority. I assure you, I am not so. You see the world, and the creatures of it, in ways I haven't -- and with that realization I have a choice. I can be just another demon, as you've said, as that man made me to be and nothing more..."

"Or I can discover what else is possible; perhaps become something more, as you have. Please, please . . . I beg of you," Here he paused and, after a moment's hesitation, dropped to his knees in front of her. "And I will literally beg, should you want me to. Teach me to see what I'm blind to, to see what -- and how -- you see. Don't, I beseech you, abandon me to whatever fate so soon after enthralling me."

"You say I am a shame? Show me how I might be otherwise; let me see the world you envision, the future you would have. I..." He found the words catching in his throat, flowery speech failing him as he became further and further at odds with his own being. "For hells' sakes, woman, don't damn those who already are!"

[November]

By the time Mephisto's words had left his mouth, with no time left to pull them back, even he could have felt the air drawn taut and sharp, but it was nothing compared to the death-cold glare of the looming demoness. Any movement threatened to cut and stab at their bodies without resilience, and in the brief seconds for the next scene unfolded, you could have heard a penny drop, hundreds of miles away. Even the scraping of the icy-eyed monsters boots against the floor, as she prized herself against it, was loud, and violated the silence, that last piece of calm that most people hang to and try to pull back in the seconds they had. And then Belle released her storm before him.

"YOU SAY THAT AGAIN"
-THUD-

Belle brought a leg around, shattering that bitter silence, as cold, hard steel collided with his face with more brute force than seemed possible for her body to exert, sending him into the table with a noise that startled the entire street below. Her voice boomed with a sheer, brutal, commanding essence that very few would ever hear from a woman. 

"YOU DARE SAY THAT AGAIN."

Still reeling, the furious she-demon grabbed the back of his hair, pulling him up from the foot of the table with a brutal yank before slamming the side of his head back into the corner. She didn't leave him much time to think, clawing her way into his head abandoning subtly, cunning, she let it be known that she owned him, and that she could pry at him for everything she needed. She could lock him down if she consumed enough space in his head. She overrode his senses, leaving him nothing but pain, confusion, and her words heavy and loud. Dragging him behind her, she threw his chair aside, panting, unbridled in her anger.

"You will not call me WOMAN!"

Again, with more strength than her frame would tell of, Belle pulled him up by his hair before she threw him, almost, over the balcony, catching him by his coat and turning him to face the stars, balancing atop the splintering rails with his own weight. "You have no right to call me woman. You have no right to beg me to stay. I am not bound to you, I do not care for you, I will damn who I please and damn who I want and nothing in your pathetic little existence will change that!-" A fist met his face "-I am at no obligation to do what you ask of be, demand of me, desire of me! I am not your little show, you are mine!" -Another hit- "So, BOY, You would beg?!" -Another, harder, she grabbed the hair at his crown and pulled his head put to meet hers, her other hand pressed tight on his throat.

"THEN BEG ME TO STOP, YOU INSOLENT, INSIGNIFICANT AND POWERLESS LITTLE BOY!"

Her fury, her power to nullify the powers of men have consumed the whole second floor. No seer could see inside, and no one but her could see out. Over her shoulder, she threw that man back into the table and it collapsed under the force. Belle was quick to assume her position atop of him with powerful strides, legs either side of his waist and she pressed her hand back to his throat, claws teasing at the soft skin like daggers, her other hand braced herself against the corner of the table. "I. Own. You. And I would take great pleasure in killing you, probably much more than you could offer me yourself. So beg me." Her grip tightened, another fist came crashing down, after another, and another.

"Beg me to stop! I want to hear it!"