Private Tales A Taste of This World

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
"I am pretty sure I would rather gouge my ear drums out, Coran," Genevieve said with a disgusted face.

Opera. She could not even start the fae version of the performances without wanting to die. She could only imagine how terrible the humans would be at it.

"We could just get drunk and get to know each other?" She shrugged. She didn't even know if Coran could get drunk but anything sounded better than the opera.
 
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Coran chuckled. "No appreciation for the mortal arts, then?"

Not that he could really blame her.

There was something visceral about their craft. A touch that was meant to reach the soul...something he himself did not have. His shoulders rolled in a shrug, and he leaned back within the plush seating of the corner booth.

"We could indeed." Well, she could.

As far as he knew he couldn't get drunk, but he wouldn't shove away the opportunity to take snap another binding around her throat. "Another round then?"

The demon proffered.
 
"They usually sound like screeching urchins. Operas are a lovely place to find mortals to bring back to the Summer Court though. Too many drinks, lots of dark areas...it is quite perfect...but I have had enough of it to last two lifetimes."

Genevieve was about to say that she had already ordered another round when the server reappeared carrying the two drinks.

"I already ordered," she smiled at Coran and took a drink from her refilled glass.

"How often do you have to," short pause, "eat?"
 
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He chuckled, shaking his head and leaning back in the chair. "Have to?"

Coran asked, musing on the answer.

"I do not know." He answered truthfully. "My hunger is almost constant, a bottomless pit. There is no amount that can vanquish my need."

Among his Kindred he was known for his greed. A never ending hunger that always continued on. Nothing was never enough. Not power. Not the souls of those great and above. It was a whim that he could easily fall into, would and had before.

There was no question of that. "I have never gone long without."

Nor would he ever stand to.
 
Genevieve was surprised that he had not feed from her again yet. She had offered but that was before she was back in her right mind. A small part of her wanted to offer again but the larger (more sane) part of her told her that offering was stupid. She was not sure how he took control of her but that could definitely be part of it.

"It has been a while, Coran..." She pointed out.

Between the two days of non stop travel to the stone and then the travel to here, he had not taken any mortals to drain. Drain...like a vampire...gross. Genevieve hmph'd at her thoughts and went to too another drink.

"We can find someone later if you want?"
 
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His need to consume was not hunger, at least not exactly. It was greed that overtook him, not starvation.

The power that held him here was sufficient for now, and it would be for some time yet. As long as he did not have to use more of himself to fight off his Kindred. Or any other threat that may present itself.

Magic always had a toll, and for now at least he would pay that toll. ”No no.”

He said with a shake of his head.

”Nothing to draw attention to ourselves.” Coran said quietly. ”Besides. The honorable Lord will be…hosting me anyway.”

That would be more than enough. The true concern was his own greed. Whether he could hold back when the time came. That would always be a problem.
 
"Very well," Genevieve responded. It was not her job to make sure he lived. In fact, she was still debating if she even wanted him to come out of this alive. He was growing on her but not that much.

"Why did you come here, Coran? It seems like a lot of effort to switch out bodies and such..."

Her words trailed off and she took another drink while she waited for the answer.
 
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Coran seemed to consider the question for a moment, musing, thinking, wondering.

There was so much that she did not know, that she could not know. This world was so much different than his own. The weight of it...changed. "My home is..."

He frowned.

"The Abyss is not like this place, not like your world." Not from what she had described to him. "There is no joy within the endless wastes. No exultation. Nothing that offers reward or recompense."

A scowl pulled at the demon's lips. "Within the Abyss we suffer. We toil. We fight and scrap for position."

There was a long pause.

"This world is paradise." Coran said simply.
 
Genevieve just listened to him speak with a slight frown on her face.

"That sounds terrible," she said when he was done describing his home.

She could understand now why he wanted to be here...why any of them wanted to be here.

"If you think this is paradise," her hand indicated the room around them as she spoke of the mortal world. "Just wait until you visit my world..."

Did she want him to visit her home? Why was she so torn when it came to this fucking demon?!
 
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"It is not a place most would want to be." Hence why he was here, sitting upon this world. Hence why his kindred had breached the veil.

She had been a lesser there. Not quite the bottom rung of his kind, but close enough that her existence had been even more torturous than his own. A fact that Coran could understand, but would never empathize with. Not even for a flickering second.

Slowly he leaned forward. "Is that so?"

Coran asked with a smile.

"Perhaps we will have to venture there." He said. "When our task is done."

When he was the last of his kind on this world.
 
The moment that words left her mouth, she knew he was going to love it. The suggestion that they would go to the Summer Court together. Coran leading forward and smiling told her that his smug ass was enjoying her giving into him and accepting this.

We.

Our.

Those were two words that she made her stiffen slightly. They were not a we. They would never be a we. Unfortunately, it was untrue. Coran and herself had become a we when she had agreed to travel with him and then when he threatened her with the iron that sat in her body.

"Yes...perhaps..."

Genevieve was quick to take a very very long drink.
 
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There was so much yet to do. So much that had to be done.

Yet luck was on his side, for he did not have the press of time. There was nothing standing between him and simply...waiting. He could not age. He could not be wiped away by the simple turn of a clock. The only threat to him in this world was one of his own kind.

And she would soon be extinguished. "I wonder."

He mused.

"What this new face will be." Coran said as Genevieve took her drink. "I've taken so many over the centuries that they have almost become dull."

Most humans looked the same after a time.
 
"As before, I hope he is good looking and tall. If I am to be stuck with you, I would like something nice to look at," she said with a sweet, innocent smile.

Genevieve had simple requests on this trip. She was also a little afraid to ask for anything and make Coran made. He seemed to get irritated when she got upset with him for some reason. She had only threatened to kill him a few times.

"How old are you?" She asked as she leaned forward with her arms resting on the table. Now she was curious if he was older than her or not.
 
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Coran smiled slightly, ever so slightly. There was no telling what this lord would look like, for all he knew the man would be a fat bastard covered in grease. He had occupied such bodies before, and they held a certain...charm.

Mostly because of the terror they could cause. "I suppose we will see."

They needed to see the hand they were dealt this time. The Lord was needed as a front, at least to sow the seeds, but he did not care if he had to hang onto the body for long. At least as long as his goals were seen to in this place.

His brow furrowed when her next question came.

"Millenia untold." He answered honestly. "I have existed since the abyss came to be, awoken within the great darkness, crawling from the aether and clawing my way to consciousness."

Shoulders rolled. "My first steps in this world came when humanity was still crawling in caves. That I remember well."

For that had been the first time he had felt joy. Rending and feasting upon those who could finally understand.
 
So he was much older than her. It was no surprise since he was a demon and they were truly immortal. The fae were just very long lived.

"I would guess that you are older than me then. I am just over four thousand years old and I am still young compared to some duanann who are well over ten thousand years old."

Genevieve was fully aware that they were surrounded by humans but most were drunk and she figured this would just sound like more drunken talk between a couple.

"I am surprisingly ready to go home. I miss my bed," she laughed out and took another drink before raising her hand for another round.
 
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"Young indeed." The words came not with a hint of judgment attached, just a stating of simple fact.

In truth, time was a thing of dust to him. It mattered little more than the mortals surrounding them. Then the wind, or any number of things in this world. To him time was the blink of an eye, something that passed by while he had his own indulgences.

He was moored within it's threads on this world, but only such as everything else. It was something that Coran had accepted and come to understand long ago. On this world there was fun to be had, but there were also rules that needed to be followed.

For not following those rules had consequences even he could not avoid. "I am afraid it is not yet time to venture back."

He mused, gaze flickering to the mark he had forced upon her flesh.

"But a bed." Coran told her. "A bed I might yet be able to provide."
 
The next round was dropped off at their table and she immediately took hers. The more she drank, the more okay she became with this predicament. This new life that she had until Coran was done with her and decided to kill her. She doubted he would ever let her leave his side now. She had somehow become something that he wanted and she did not know why.

His gaze on her mark was not lost on her and it caused a frown to grace her lips.

"A bed sounds good. As long as I get to share it with you," Genevieve winked at him.

She most certainly did not want to share a bed wit him.
 
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"Mm." Such pursuits did not in the least enthuse him.

Ironically, in those matters Genevieve would have been better off in the company of the Kindred they hunted. Ydrail had always enjoyed such simple pleasures of mortality. The balance of lust and love and spinning those around her to her whim.

Perhaps that was how she had gained so much power in so little time. "Perhaps you will."

He told her, baiting the line a little bit more.

There was no need to bend to her whims really, not anymore. That mark could have her on her knees in an instant, but it was easier to this. A kind word, a soft gesture, it would do just as well as the lash he held over her.

At least for now.
 
"I am fine. You are quite literally the last person I want to share a bed with."

Genevieve bit out at him then took a drink from her glass. She was starting to feel lighter and she liked it. It had been awhile since she had been drunk.

She would down the glass in another drink and then take his untouched glass. She raised her brow in challenge of him stopping her before taking a long drink from that one too.

"How are we going to get an audience with the Lord?"
 
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Coran smiled. "The last?"

He remarked.

"I'd have thought that was those nice men back in the manor." A click of his tongue, a shake of his head. "But then, maybe you enjoy being a bit...tied up."

There was almost a pleasant expression that flickered over his stolen face, but it quickly slipped away. He watched as she took another drink, wondering how well it actually effected her. A question that was answered as she swayed in her seat.

He smiled at her again. "I intended on having you ask."

Genevieve was so, very very helpful after all.
 
"First off," she said holding up a finger to indicate the number one. "I forgot about them so that moves you up the list a few spots, I suppose."

Genevieve took another drink and savored it as she swallowed.

A smirk crossed her lips before she spoke again. "Second," her middle finger joined the first, "I do like being tied up!" She said it a little louder than necessary and she heard a snicker behind her.

A giggle escaped the fae's lips as she down the rest of the drink. Yes, she was drunk and it felt great.

"I do not think I will be asking anyone anything tonight," she said finally with a little bit of a slur.
 
"Ah, not so terrible then." Coran remarked. "But then, they were mortals, and that makes it worse, no?"

At least he was something else.

Though he supposed in the minds of many a Demon was far worse than any mortal. He figured that it was the same for Fae, but Genevieve...well she was a special case was she not? Dancing to a tune played by him, forced upon her flesh.

His head cocked as she slurred her words.

"No, I suppose not." Briefly he wondered how her magic would work now. How the questions could be twisted, how her will could be bent.

Fingers rose, remarking to the waitress. Another cup soon delivered.
 
"Mortals and fae hunters so an even worse combination!" Genevieve declared.

Her eyes wandered over Coran's borrowed face and smiled sweetly. "The more I drink, the more spots you slide up," she said as she closed her eyes for a moment.

She heard him speak again but she couldn't tell you what he had said. The next thing she knew there was another drink waiting for her.

"Mmmmm," she hummed as she picked up the newest addition to the table and drank. "Are you trying to get me drunk, Coran?" Genevieve asked with a wink.
 
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Now there was something she said that truly interested him. A curiosity that she had sparked upon likely very accidentally. A question that made him wonder about a dozen other things when it came to her world. "Oh I just supply the urges of Avarice."

For a brief moment, he frowned.

Something flickered through him. Not the stolen body. No, the form that lay beneath. The true essence of what he was.

Always Coran had been greedy. Always he needed more, wanted more. That was what he had been. Avarice made manifest. Yet as soon as he'd said the words to Genevieve, as soon as he'd done just as he said he would...there had been a flash of something.

Coran frowned, and then asked the question he had thought of.

"Are there non-mortal Fae Hunters?" Did her own kind hunt one another?
 
Genevieve shrugged at his question. She had never met one but she wouldn't be surprised.

"I am sure there are. There are fae assassins that kill other fae so why not have a fae who kills fae just because they're fae."

The fae started giggling like a child at her overuse of fae in a single sentence. She thought she was hilarious.

"You are a demon killing demon and there are vampire killing vampires. Murder all around!"

Genevieve took another drink and had a little trouble setting the glass back down on the table because the stupid table was moving now.

"Coran, I think I am drunk," her voice was completely serious now.

Well...for a second...until she started giggling again.
 
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