Private Tales A Taste of This World

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer

Genevieve Belisario

The Demon's Bitch
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Genevieve noticed the change in the weather as soon as they stepped outside of the manor. It seemed apropos that the skies now matched her own mood. She was cheery when she walked into the manor on the arm of the demon and now she was dark and sullen. She wanted to kill the man again. She did still like this body though so that was something at least.

As she looked past Coran and past the gate she saw the villagers. A chill of fear ran down her spine. Where they here to attack the demon and his fae? The fae hunters failed so now the villagers would overwhelm them by force?

No. That was not it. They start to speak and Genevieve took a step back. "What the fuck..." She breathed out as she scanned the loud, chaotic crowd.

Coran did not have a chance to answer though because the world split before them. It seemed like the lightning moved in slow motion and she just watched in horror as the earth exploded.
 
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Coran

The Demon
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The world seemed to flicker, slow, stop even.

Coran knew what was happening before it happened. Not because he saw the future, not because he could peer back into the Aether. It was the chanting. The resounding call of words that seemed to echo through the crowd again and again.

"COME AND FI-" Before he could finish the lightning struck.

The earth roiled, ripped apart, and then exploded in a shred of malice and power. Earth cascaded out from the ground, rocks pelting and tearing at anyone and everyone around them.

Odd, black shimmers floated around both Coran and Genevieve. The air itself seeming to turn and break apart as earth melted and wisped away the second it touched that odd shimmer. Coran's magic protecting the two even as the dust began to settle around them.

Rain began to pelt down, the soft chanting of voices echoing out even as half the crowd lay scattered with shrapnel and corpses.
 

Genevieve Belisario

The Demon's Bitch
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Genevieve did not enjoy fighting. She did not enjoy being attacked. She did not enjoy the fucking earth being destroyed around her.

She had moved closer to Coran and was actually holding onto his arm like her life depended on it. It kind of did if she was being honest with herself. The fact that she was actually touching him by choice and in her right mind meant that she was scared.

She could see that they were being protected by Coran but that did not make it any better. Not even a little bit.

She was pretty sure that his demon kin had found them.
 

Coran

The Demon
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Coran scowled as the smoke around them began to clear away. His face a mask of rage.

Half the enthralled crowd was dead. Either torn apart my exploding cobbles or directly caught in the blast of lightning. The other half seemed dazed, stunned, as though none of them quite understood what had actually happened. Howls of pain could be heard, tears and sobs.

Calls for aid echoed out as the latter of rain began to fall down onto the small square.

The Demon ignored it all, clearly seething with anger. He seemed to utterly ignore Genevieve standing besides him, slowly stepping towards one of the fallen corpses. A hand reached down, plucking the body up. An odd purple light cast from the bodies eyes, and it's mouth unhinged in a disturbing cackle.

On it's tongue the same symbol Genevieve had found on the pendant.

Coran said something, a word. It seemed like a curse, and air seemed to wrap around the pair as they stood. A rush of wind blowing at his cloak as though the gods themselves objected to his speech.

"We're leaving." Coran declared, practically dragging Genevieve through the crowd of half dead wailing humans.
 

Genevieve Belisario

The Demon's Bitch
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Genevieve did not protest when Coran said they were leaving and she did not complain about him touching. This was his shitty mess that he had come looking for and she wanted nothing to do with it. One demon in her life was enough.

The next words that came from her mouth were wholly unexpected and she tried to stop them but they came out anyways.

"Do you need some of my blood, Coran?"
 
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Coran

The Demon
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Coran stopped.

They stood in a field of worn bodies and newly dead. Their quiet cries echoed out, hands reached for them, clambering, crawling. They searched not for salvation, not assistance, but vengeance.

He could feel their anger. The rage channeled through them. A familiarity clung to the crowd, the mark that had been carved into their flesh. A memory from near an eon ago. A whelp that should have been squashed at mere thought of it's existence. He knew it well, he cursed himself for not ending it sooner.

"Not yet." Coran answered finally.

He glanced back towards Genevieve.

There was a rage in his eyes. An unspoken anger that seemed to echo through the whole of him. It seethed, roiled, like an ocean tossed and turned by a storm above.

The Demon did not need her yet. No. For every drop he took now would be one he could not have later. It was a truth he despised. The fact that he had to spare his greed, that he had to control himself. But it was the only way. "We have to find her first."

Coran said, finally continuing through the broken crowd.
 

Genevieve Belisario

The Demon's Bitch
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Coran was angry and Genevieve found it rather disconcerting even though his anger was no longer directed at her. It was towards this other demon that seemed more powerful than him.

The fae couldn't help but look at the dead and barely alive that littered the ground. She had never seen anything like this and it creeped her out majorly.

Genevieve nodded with some relief when Coran answered that he would not take her blood yet. She was, honestly, still trying to figure out why she had even asked the question.

Her. They had to find her. Coran knew who they were looking for now. It was not just an unknown kin anymore. This was personal.

Genevieve started to walk again when he did and she reached out to grab his hand. She just walked next to him in silence hoping that she was bringing some sort of comfort to him. She knew that she probably wasn't though.
 
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Coran

The Demon
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Coran took no comfort, there was no such thing in his world.

That was no fault of Genevieve's of course. He was a demon, a flickering hateful thing created from a roiling mass of the Abyss. Comfort for him was the death of thousands. The consumption of power. The raw natural order of things being torn apart strip by strip.

A touch, no matter it's weight, was simply not enough.

The Demon decided to abandon the carriage, mostly because he did not trust the human driver would contain himself. There was a chance that any mind could now be snatched away, even with Genevieve's powerful influences over the mind.

Better to not take any risks, better to simply travel the old fashioned way.

It was nigh on three days later than Genevieve and Coran finally stopped walking.

They came to a halt in a small clearing, four obelisk like stones sitting arrayed around one another. Pillars that reached up from the ground like a claw. A massive stone disk sat beneath them, covered in moss and vines, yet inscribed with thousands of runs.

Here Coran finally came a stop, directly in front of the great stone disk.
 

Genevieve Belisario

The Demon's Bitch
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Three days of walking had Genevieve in a rather grumpy mood by the time they had finally stopped walking. Unlike Coran, Genevieve needed rest in order to not be murdery. The only rest she had gotten was when she needed to eat. She thought about stabbing Coran more than a few times but it would have been useless and she was too tired to deal with him killing her. So much effort.

"What is all this?" Genevieve asked as she yawned and fought the urge to lay down on the ground.
 
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Coran

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Coran slowly glanced back towards Genevieve. "A door."

He knew the answer wouldn't be enough for her.

Despite his first impression, the Fae had turned out to be far more inquisitive than he would have thought she would be. A part of him would have enjoyed keeping her in the dark, would have preferred it even, but they were beyond that now.

"My kind can only cross over through certain means." He explained. "Through our will, our power, or gateways like these."

The Demon said with a gesture. "I suspect she traveled through one of these, built by mortals. Summoned forth with the taste of blood."

His head shook. "If she did, I can use it to track her."

Coran explained, slowly ripping some of the vines from the ancient stone.
 

Genevieve Belisario

The Demon's Bitch
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If Genevieve was a human, she would have thought Coran was insane but she was not human and she knew there were strange powers in the world. The Fae themselves were just one example. Gods and demons were another. There were some things mortals would never understand and powers they would never be able to comprehend.

Genevieve could almost guarantee that the mortals who had summoned Coran's demon friend were long dead by now. She had a hard time feeling bad for anything that was stupid enough to summon a demon. Of course, she was the one that was currently being held hostage by one so what did she know.

The fae walked over to the ancient stone and started to help Coran remove the offending vines from the large disk.

"Who is she?" Genevieve asked casually as she dropped vines onto the ground.

Her question was really the most important here. She was not just kin and Genevieve needed to know what to expect because Coran clearly did.
 
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Coran

The Demon
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'She'.

It was such a funny term. They were demons, creatures of the abyss. Indescribable and technically gender-less. Yet all of them had preferences in that regard, bodies that they would rather inhabit. Forms that they would take.

A strange thing, really, not one he had given much thought to. "She is one of the lessers of my realm."

Coran began to explain.

"A welp." There was a harsh turn to his words. "She contrived her way through the veil, using the worship of mortals."

A weakness that he had never had to suffer through. Would never suffer through. "Where we are from, she is...nothing."

Here? Here she was so much more. That made her dangerous.
 

Genevieve Belisario

The Demon's Bitch
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A hmmmm left Genevieve's lips as she listened to Coran. He was growing angry again but she fought the urge to touch him this time.

All of Genevieve's questions came from pure curiosity. He was the first demon she had ever met and she was not a believer in a god or gods.

"If she is a lesser demon...how do the mortals even know to worship her? Especially if she is nothing where you come from?"


The fae figured that there would need to be some kind of worship to begin with but maybe she was incorrect.
 
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Coran

The Demon
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"Because mortals are weak, and she is crafty." It was likely the only compliment he would ever pay her, and only because she was not around to hear it.

As he continued to pluck the vines from the obelisks more of the stones revealed themselves. Runes carved deep into the rock transcribed everything, a language that had died long ago presenting a story of thousands of years. Coran ignored it all of course, he knew it all already.

"Even the weakest among us have lived for nigh on an eternity." Coran explained. "And she has used her time well."

Another compliment. Coran frowned, then continued. "She could not pierce the veil to travel through it, but she could…touch things on this side. Through the millennia she has sowed seeds."

The last vine was plucked away.

"Settling her name in the minds of mortals. Promising power, immortality, even love." He looked to Genevieve. "So they pray to her, and a worship that drains their souls and grants her ever more influence."

He shrugged. "All it takes is the word of one man, and millennia later her cult has spread like locusts."

As evidenced by the encounters they'd already had.
 

Genevieve Belisario

The Demon's Bitch
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Genevieve was utterly enthralled by Coran's story of how the demon - well any demon really - was able to come into the mortal realm with such ferocity. It was such a process and, even with her extremely long life, she did not have the patience for such a feat.

"What do we need to do to defeat her?" She asked as she watched her demon with a slight head tilt.

It was not lost on her that she had said we. When had the demon and his fae bitch become a we? She was not sure but she wanted to help him and she wanted to rid the world of this other demon.

If they even could...
 
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Coran

The Demon
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”I don’t know.” Coran answered honestly.

It was a good question, and a few centuries ago the answer would have been a simple one. All that he needed was to get into a room with her, be given the opportunity to rip her to shreds. Now? There was no telling just how strong the mortals had made her.

He frowned. ”Yilaida has always been clever, she must have realized that I knew of her presence here.”

Otherwise she would not have struck.

”Killing those who worship at her feat will weaken her.” It was a…direct method, but there was no telling just how far her cult had spread. ”But that is a…laborious task.”

He commented with a frown.
 

Genevieve Belisario

The Demon's Bitch
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Genevieve came around and leaned against the stone directly in front of Coran with her hands resting on the rounded edge. She looked up at him and studied this bodies handsome face. Sometimes she had to remind herself that he was a fucking asshole...especially the longer that she spent with him.

"Two questions, Coran. First, is she stronger than you? Second, if she is...how much stronger?"

An idea was forming in her sinister mind but she needed those answers first. She may be way too strong for Genevieve's idea to even work.
 
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Coran

The Demon
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Coran paused.

He was absolutely loathe to admit that Ylaida was probably stronger than him now. There was a limit to his strength, one that she had likely surpassed due to her worshipers. He practically had to bite his vessels tongue to force the words from his mouth. "She is likely stronger than I now."

Saying that put a vile taste on his tongue.

"But, there is no real way to gauge it." He told her with a frown. "Not until I face her."

Slowly he turned to face Genevieve. "But she was weak in the Abyss, and I was always one of the strongest."

Which was how he had made it to this world in the first place.
 

Genevieve Belisario

The Demon's Bitch
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"What if we got you some followers? Would that help? If you were stronger originally then in theory you could easily become stronger again..."

Genevieve had no idea if that actually made any sense or if it was something that was even possible. How did someone just convert followers?

"Is that even possible?"
 
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Coran

The Demon
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Coran seemed to pause for a moment, as if he were weighing the thought within his mind. A frown pulled at his lips, head tilting slightly. ”Yes…”

He said slowly, clearly not ever having considered the option.

Such things took time. The groundwork needed to be laid. Ylaidia had taken centuries upon centuries to build her cult…but Coran didn’t need to do that. Not with Genevieve. Her magic did not work like a demon’s touch.

It was subtle, soft, and more importantly the way she controlled people came from within themselves. That was the key. ”Yes that could work.”

He mused.

”But..” Coran frowned. ”Getting enough would be difficult.”
 

Genevieve Belisario

The Demon's Bitch
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"How many do you think you would need?"

Convincing people to believe in the greatness of Coran was not difficult. She could do that easily but she was unable to do more than a couple people at a time. It would take awhile.

She was still trying to figure out why she wanted to help him. If one demon destroyed the other, she would be free to return home. She didn't voice those thoughts though. It was not worth it.
 
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Coran

The Demon
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Coran stood silent for a moment.

It was hard to figure out just how many he would require. If they had a better idea of what the other Kin had it might have been easier. He tried to think, consider just how strong Ylaidra had to be in order to reveal herself as she did.

After a moment, he frowned. "Thousands."

Yes.

"She would not have shown her hand if she were not comfortable." Coran said quietly. "And I think..."

He looked towards one of the stone pillars. "I think she is comfortable indeed."
 

Genevieve Belisario

The Demon's Bitch
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"Fuck," Genevieve breathed out. That would take time.

The fae pushed up from her stone resting spot.

"Is there any way to trick her? Could a non-demon destroy her or whatever?"

She, honestly, was not sure if Coran would give her details like that since she was all stabby and shit.

"I am not asking so I can use it against you," she quickly followed up. That was true. The fae could not lie.
 
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Coran

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Coran considered for a moment, as if he wondered whether the question was even worth answering. "There are ways."

They were powerful otherworldly entities, but upon this world they were bound. Whatever cloaked this world's magic, limited it touched them as well. It was a mystery that Coran had never much cared about, after all...he could have his fun regardless.

"In this world everything can die." He mused. "Even you and I."

The demon smiled, as though he were reciting something, then continued. "It would require the blessings of a Divine."

He frowned. "Or something that had already been blessed by them in the past."

That wasn't all of it of course, there was more. Certain blessings would only work on certain members of the Kine, but...there wasn't any need to tell Genevieve that.
 

Genevieve Belisario

The Demon's Bitch
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"Would that be easier than converting thousands of people to Coran worshippers?"

Genevieve stepped closer to Coran and brought a hand to his cheek. She turned his head so he was facing her.

"I am with you, Coran. I will help you destroy her by any means necessary. That fae cannot lie if that helps any..."


It was not that she wanted to be around him longer or anything but she did not want another demon who knew who she was on the loose in the world. That was shit that she did not need to deal with.
 
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