Private Tales A Taste of This World

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer

Coran

The Demon
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The church was quiet. It had not been just a little while ago, but now all was finally silent.

Coran glanced to his left where the body of a priest lay half splayed over a pew, three other corpses lay scattered all around the hall. Each of them had been rent and torn into, their bodies a mangled mass, great gashing wounds having spilled pools of crimson onto the floor. It was a sight that most would have been repulsed by, yet the last living man did not seem to mind.

"Hrm." He mused. "I thought you would have been more of a problem for me."

His hand patted the mans back. "Guess all the stories were wrong."

It was something he had been wondering about since coming here. He'd been told over and over again that a place like this was his bane, and yet...well it had turned out that the men here were just ordinary men. They had faith. They had a god. Yet none of them had helped them an ounce when it came down too it. Disappointing really.

At least he wouldn't have to eat again for a few weeks.

His head shook. "Maybe the next one."

Coran said as he pushed himself up from the pew, grabbing the man's hand and waving at himself for a moment. "Bye bye."

A smile pulled at his lips, and then he headed towards the doors.
 

Genevieve Belisario

The Demon's Bitch
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Genevieve hated mortals.

Unfortunately, her job that didn't really exist meant that she had to go round up mortals and changelings every month or so. She was paid handsomely by her boss who was definitely not the Queen of the Summer Court. So many juicy secrets and Genevieve loved every single one.

Per usual on these trips, Genevieve had cast a glamour on herself. Anyone who couldn't see through glamours would see her exactly how she was except she was the height of an average mortal woman (ugh) and her ears were no longer pointed (double ugh). It was terrible. She didn't understand how anyone could possibly survive being under six foot.

The blonde fae sat on a barstool at a local tavern. She had found that watching the mortals before she struck was the best way to find the perfect merchandise for the slave market.
 
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Coran

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Coran stepped through the village, his face cleaned up, though his clothes speckled with spots of crimson. In the night it was hard to see them, though flashes of torchlight offered a view well enough.

A woman walked by him, offering a quick glance.

Soft orange eyes flickered up towards her, gaze lingering for just a moment. She seemed to stare, transfixed, and then his cheshire grin grew a bit wider. The woman half-tripped over her own foot, seeming to snap out of a strange sort of trance.

Her head shook, and when she looked back Coran was already gone.

The doors to the tavern fell open, the Demon pushing them aside as he stepped out of the starting rains. He glance briefly over the common room, a woman approaching him in a frilly frock. She smiled up at him.

"Good evenin' darlin, can I get you a table? Meal?"​

His eyes pulled away from a figure at the bar, then offered the girl a kind smile. "Yes, and a Bath I think."

He needed one after the incident at the church. Just one of the smaller pleasures this world had to offer.
 

Genevieve Belisario

The Demon's Bitch
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Genevieve did not notice the newcomer. She would have liked to say it was because she was focused on her prey but it was because she was messing with her nails. This terrible tavern did not even have wine so she was already over this whole trip. Well...she had been over it. She had been sent out sooner than usual so the attitude was strong.

She finished drinking her drink that she honestly didn't remember what was in it and ordered another. It was alright. Another would be equally as alright. This whole place sucked. She was not sure how anyone could stand being mortal. Bleh.

Genevieve half turned in her stool to look out over the crowd again. No, no, no, hmmm maybe, fuck no. Her mental list went on as she scouted everyone.
 
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Coran

The Demon
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The waitress swept away to fulfill his order, muttering something about having to make sure to get enough hot water ready for such a big man. Coran watched her for a moment, and then noticed something else as she slipped behind the bar.

"Oh dear." Coran said, a wide grin spreading across his lips as he noticed the figure cloaked in magic.

It was a haze that drifted around her, one that warped and shifted almost constantly to his eyes. He could see beneath it if he focused, the stretch of her form, the mask fading away. That was not what caught his eye though.

No. It was something else entirely.

His fingers tapped on the table in front of him, curling, tongue bitten between stolen teeth.

Then suddenly, as though through magic, he appeared in front of Genevieve. Slipping through the room without a single disturbance. "I couldn't help but notice how lonely you looked over here."

His voice echoed out as he leaned besides her.
 

Genevieve Belisario

The Demon's Bitch
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Genevieve did not even deign to look at the man that had appeared in front of her. She simply ignored him as she scanned the room.

"That is my choice, I assure you,"
she said tersely. She had no time for mortals. They even smelled terrible. This one smelled like blood. She finally let her gaze fall on the person.

"You smell terrible, could you go somewhere else, please. I am trying to enjoy my drink."
Even as she said it, she could feel something was off about him. Wrong.

She had work to do. She had to weed out the ones that were mostly alone in the world. Those were the best for bringing to the market. No one missed them.
 
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Coran

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Coran smile at the woman, fighting the urge to look at where he knew her face truly lay.

"Well I'm just about to have a bath." There were pleasures in this world that even the corrupt cherubs back home could not have sang of. Blasted and sonorous things that those who did not know could never truly understand.

It was that which kept him here. That slice of this world which drove him to the madness of his being. "Perhaps you'd like to join me?"

He asked.

"I need someone to scrub my back." And perhaps devour.

Gluttony was not his sin, but he would indulge himself for this. "And I'm more than willing to return the favor."
 

Genevieve Belisario

The Demon's Bitch
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Genevieve choked on her drink and let out a few small coughs. This strange man and whatever he was had just propositioned her. He definitely was not the type of mortal she wanted to take to the market. Too bold, too arrogent.

But Genevieve was intrigued.

She prided herself on her aloof presence and she loved that it kept the riff raff away when she was working.

"I am afraid that I am working so you will need to find a nice common mor," she faltered before finishing the word mortal. "A nice common woman to help you..."
 
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Coran

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Coran leaned on the bar besides him, his expression never changing away from that cheshire grin.

"Ah." He mused. "I see that you're as boring as all the others."

A long sigh escaped his stolen lips. "Prudish, dull, conventional."

Slowly the demon shook his head, disappointment more than evident as he rested upon his palm. The waitress half approached, but seemed to stall from coming over by a simple glance that he offered her. His attention returning to Genevieve for a moment.

"Here I thought you were more interesting." Coran said, pulling away from the bar finally. "My mistake then. The I suppose even I can be fooled."

He goaded as he half stepped away.
 

Genevieve Belisario

The Demon's Bitch
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Genevieve's amber eyes snapped the the stranger. How dare he talk to her like that. What she wouldn't give to be back home where she could murder this man and see no consequence. Mortals were disgusting but now she was mad.

"I am no prude or conventional," the fae woman spat out. "I just do not see how you have anything to offer me so why should I waste my time?"

It was really starting to bug her what was weird about this man. She couldn't place it for the life of her. He was clearly human.
 
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Coran

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Coran didn't even bother back towards Genevieve, instead he almost seemed to survey the room. His gaze obviously lingered on the waitress, as though she might have been a better choice. "I already told you."

He mused out loud.

"But I guess you're just too..." Finally he glanced back over his shoulder. "Well...I guess just ordinary, no?"

A shrug rolled over his shoulders. "Maybe she'll be of more open mind."

He looked back towards the waitress. "Her time is probably worth less, I suppose."

Poke. Poke. Poke.
 

Genevieve Belisario

The Demon's Bitch
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His needling was pissing her off. She was a fae. A Lady of the Summer Court and he dared to speak to her like that. She pushed off from stool with a huff and stalked after him. Now she was going to have to kill him. Such dirty work. So tedious and gross.

Murder was really the only option. She would be fired if she brought someone with his attitude for the market.

She had never met a man with worse manners than him. She hadn't even been talking to him and he was now insulting her. Fuck no.

"Listen to me, you arrogent son of a bitch," Genevieve said as she stormed after him. "You have no idea how to speak with women and it is disgusting! Like you!"
 
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Coran

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Coran stopped in the middle of the room.

More than a few people turned their heads as her voice raised, the bellows echoing through the small common room. Some of the waitresses stopped in their tracks, looking at Coran with a gaze that spoke more than a few volumes.

The Demon himself half stopped in his stride, head cocking to the side for a moment. It was as though something were running through his mind. After a moment he turned back towards the Fae. "Sorry."

He said casually.

"Were you talking to me?" The Demon offered. "I thought I wasn't worth it."

Coran reached up and scratched at his ear. "I must have misheard you. Maybe you spoke to this fine gentleman."

He clapped one of the patrons on the shoulder. He was older, long bearded, face gnarled like a tree root. "Handsome fellow. Just right for you."
 

Genevieve Belisario

The Demon's Bitch
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This town was done. She couldn't take anyone from here now that she had been noticed. Really noticed by the humans. Genevieve was close to the stranger now, her eyes blazed with anger as she brought her hand back to slap him hard against his smug face. He knew full well what he was doing and it was pissing her off.
 
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Coran

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Her hand struck across her face, landing hard enough to sound out within the tavern.

A small.

"Ooo."​

Echoed through the room as some drunken lout decided that his tongue was too drunk to be tied by any sense of inhibition. Coran's head didn't seem to move, his eyes slowly folding closed in a blink as he stared at Genevieve. "Well."

He said.

"Seems someone never learned any manners." The demon shook his head. "I guess that's all that can be expected from someone like you."

A shrug rolled over his shoulders. "Uncouth. Droll. Seemingly entirely without poise."

Poke. Prod. Press.

Coran let out a tsk and then turned on his heel to head towards his bath.
 

Genevieve Belisario

The Demon's Bitch
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She let out a frustrated noise as he walked away from her again. From her. No one walked away from Lady Genevieve Belisario!

"You listen to me you common human," her voice disappeared from the main room of the tavern by the time she said human. She had followed him towards the bath. Towards exactly what he had wanted in the first place. He had played her and she had let him.
 
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Coran

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More than a few were watching as Genevieve stormed after Coran, of course, but none seemed at all eager to follow after her. There was no anger like a woman scorned, so the Dornoch saying went, not that Coran had ever heard it.

He didn't bother to turn around as the Fae followed him, apparently entirely unconcerned with her presence. "I thought you weren't interested in washing me."

Coran knew exactly what he wanted.

It wasn't words. It wasn't a slap to the face.

"But I guess..." His shirt fell to the floor, exposing stolen flesh. "I'll still let you."

Thumbs hooked into his trousers, starting to pull them away as he looked back at her. "If you ask me nicely."
 

Genevieve Belisario

The Demon's Bitch
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"I do not want to wash you," her face contorted into a look of disgust. She did not wash humans. She didn't even fucking like them. They were created to serve the fae not vice versa.

"I do not appreciate being spoken to like you spoke to me and then you had the nerve to walk away. I should kill you just for speaking to me like that. Disgusting human men think that can say whatever they want without consequence!" There was passion in her voice but she kept relatively quiet compared to her previous yelling.
 
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Coran

The Demon
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Every word she said was a little more bait dropped into the water, bait that he so desperately wanted to snap at. "Oh."

Coran said with more than a little disappointment in his voice.

"Then why are you here?" Poke. Prod.

Just a little more. He was confident. Sure. There was more to this woman, so much more. He just needed to bring it out to the surface. He just needed to peel away that other layer. Then he could feast, he could have his way. "I mean..."

Coran shrugged.

"I feel like those..." He gestured to the generous curve of her chest. "Would be utterly fantastic for washing my back..."

A shrug rolled over his shoulders. "Though I guess they could suffocate me too if you still want to kill me."

As he spoke Coran pulled off his trouser.
 

Genevieve Belisario

The Demon's Bitch
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Genevieve was about to tell him off for daring to talk about her body when he took off his pants. She had to remind herself that she was fae, he was human or something akin to it, and she did not fuck around with humans. Many fae did, she did not.

But fuck...

No.

"You are disgusting and a murderer," she tilted her head to the side. Now she could smell the blood. She thought that had been the coppery smell she originally smelled and now it was confirmed as she stood closer to him and his discarded clothing.

Genevieve dropped her glamour. They were alone. No one was going to try to find them after their display in the main room. She now stood at the same height as him and her ears were pointed. Her flawless skin seemed to get more flawless if that were possible.

Honestly, she could've passed for an elf most of the time but humans were more trusting of humans.

She was inhumanly beautiful and she knew it. She was from the Summer Court where vanity was everything. Vanity and status.

The fae stepped closer to the man and narrowed her eyes. "I do not allow humans to talk to me like you have and now...I am going to kill you for the insult."

The man would feel the cold bite of metal against his gut. She'd let him die with his...uh...dignity.
 
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Coran

The Demon
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As Genevieve dropped her glamour Coran's eyes did not flicker up. Instead he simply stared straight ahead, his face implacable. The smile on his face only grew wider, that odd shimmer that had hung around her form suddenly disappearing.

"Oh, you don't?" The words came just as suddenly the cold bite of steel dug into his stomach.

Stolen flesh was parted, but no crimson spilled forth from the wound. Coran glanced down, the smile slipping from his face as he peered at the blade now stuck within his stomach. A hand came up, wrapping around Genevieve's utterly flawless skin. "Oh. No."

His voice was drab.

Droll.

"Whatever will I...do..." The strain in his voice slipped away as he suddenly reached up and grabbed the back of Genevieve's neck.

Before she could object he forced his lips on hers, teeth sinking down upon her flesh. Blood spilling onto his tongue, in a rapturess heist.
 

Genevieve Belisario

The Demon's Bitch
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It all happened so fast. He wasn't bleeding. He was moving. His lips. Pain. Blood.

The scream stuck in her throat and she tried to push away from him. She couldn't. He was stronger than her and that was a rarity. Her amber eyes looked so helpless in this moment. A direct contrast to her confident scolding only moments ago.

He was going to kill her. She wouldn't be able to heal.
 
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Coran

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Her blood spilled upon his tongue.

A taste.

A sliver of the power which lingered beneath the surface. It was like a surge of jet fuel, a gush of energy. It rushed through his body, puncturing through his stolen flesh. The wound in his belly pulsed around the knife, the gashes within his skin sealed.

It was delicious. Rapturess. Perfect.

The ecstasy was almost impossible to put into words. His teeth settled down for a brief moment, drawing more, taking more, and then suddenly he pulled away from her. His hand lingered on the back of her neck, staying.

A bright pulse filled his orange eyes, a glow that seemed to flicker. "Ah."

Coran breathed.

"Absolutely..." The Demon whispered. "Delightful."

It was hard not to laugh.
 

Genevieve Belisario

The Demon's Bitch
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Genevieve stood still and just stared at Coran. The knife had fallen from her hand awhile ago but she didn't fight him. The pain receded as her lips healed quickly and left her face in its normal perfect state.

It felt like hours before she spoke again but the words finally came out. "What the fuck are you?" Her voice was soft. She was scared. Genevieve had never been scared in her life but no one had ever hurt her before.
 
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Coran

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Rapture, ecstasy, bliss floated over Coran's features as he took in the taste of her. An exotic sort of euphoria floated over him, something that he had never tasted within this world. It was utterly unique, new. A delight he had never thought possible.

The words she spoke fell on deaf ears. The Demon lost within a trance as his fingers still pressed into the back of her neck. Seconds passed, minutes perhaps. Time seemed all but lost to him, as though an odd sort of high had clouded his mind.

"Satrig" He breathed softly in a language that had not been utter on Arethil in an age.

Goosebumps ran over his stolen flesh, ruptures of the form beneath.

It seemed to evoke him back to consciousness. "Me?"

Coran finally seemed to draw himself together, his fingers tightening on the back of her neck. His Cheshire grin somehow growing even wider as he stared at her.

"I'm what you've needed all your life." He assured her.