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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He supposed that did make sense.

Genevieve made a distinct sort of point. He was a demon hunting a demon. So it only made sense that there were Fae hunting Fae.

Yet he had expected something more of a...coperative society. Something more insular. Something which supported and helped itself above all. Yet that expectation had been snapped away by her within the half of an instant.

Perhaps for the best.

It would be easier to consume them all if they were apart. "Ah, I see darling."

He mused.

"No more drink then?" Coran asked calmly.
 

Genevieve Belisario

The Demon's Bitch
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Genevieve shrugged. The answer should have been yes but Genevieve was drunk and carefree. Her ability to reason out why continuing to drink would be a bad idea had disappeared awhile ago.

“I guess that depends on how drunk you want me…”
She attempted a wink and ended up just closing both eyes altogether.

When she was drunk, she forgot how much she hated the demon across from her. The demon who made her his bitch. The demon who held the ability to kill her at any second.

Genevieve drank the rest of the glass in front of her and set it down on the table.

“Can demons get drunk?” She asked nonchalantly.
 

Coran

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Another glass down. Another little cheek turned.

This was almost becoming a sort of experiment now, seeing just how much she would pull herself forward. He wondered what she wanted, he wondered if he could. Lips thinned for a brief moment, something flashed over his eyes.

Magic of a different sort. "No."

He mused.

"No I don't think so." Coran told her. "Remember that this..."

The Demon gestured to his body. "Is like clothing for me. A dress piece. I've not yet encountered a substance here that has much of an...effect."
 

Genevieve Belisario

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Genevieve made a mmmm sound as if she understood and totally comprehended what he was saying. She definitely thought she understood every word but then she realized she was missing a few as he spoke.

Perhaps she shouldn’t drink anymore after all.

The fae yawned and propped her right elbow on the table before setting her cheek on her hand.

“Maybe I’ll find something that will kill you,” she mused out loud. It was definitely supposed to be an internal thought.
 
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Coran

The Demon
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Another drink almost seemed to appear in the midst of the table. Summoned from nothing and nowhere, or perhaps simply placed by one of the more attentive waitstaff.

Coran's fingers touched the base of the goblet, gently pressing it towards Genevieve. "Perhaps you will."

Her words seemed to have carried no insult, no hurt or anguish.

There were few things in this world that could harm him, and fewer still that he would openly admit to. For now he held her collar, and the Demon was absolutely loathe to relinquish it. There were too many things she could be of use for.

"But." Coran mused. "What a wasteful thing to focus on."

He nudged the cup closer. "No?"
 

Genevieve Belisario

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Had Genevieve ordered another drink? She did not remember ordering another one but she was also quite drunk so it was a possibility.

She could have also sworn it was getting closer every time she looked at it.

"Is it?"

Closer. The cup was closer now. So close to her hand and then she just needed to lift it to her lips. That was not hard. She felt fine. She was fine.

"No, I think," she picked up the drink and took a smaller sip this time. "I think that I do not like you or being your slave," she finished and took another sip.

"You," drink. "Are a," drink. "Dick!" Drink.
 
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Coran

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In truth, he couldn't really have disagreed with her.

Thinking in such terms was awfully...mortal in regard to how one dealt with things, but Coran couldn't really blame her for that. The more he found out about the Fae, the more he realized just how similar they were to everyone else he had met on this plain.

They were old, ancient to some, and Genevieve had described those who were so different than her. Yet with every word she spoke he saw them almost as a reflection of the mortals they so disdained. A reflection that carried over to him.

Perhaps there was little that set them all apart. "No one chooses to be a slave."

He remarked.

"Except those odd little Tyrians." Coran mused. "But, this isn't so bad? is it?"

The Demon asked, another drink seeming to appear from nothing. "Feeding every little inkling of avarice and vice?"
 

Genevieve Belisario

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Was it so bad? No. Yes. Maybe.

“Having my long life cut short at your whim is the part I am not,” hiccup, “a fan of!”

She finished her drink and looked at the new cup. She knew she had not ordered it but here it was.

“And perhaps your vices but I do not have any,” Genevieve declared before fighting with her eyes to stay open.

“Why are you giving me more drunks?”
 

Coran

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Coran smiled. "Ah, yes I suppose that would present a little bit of a problem."

He mused for a moment.

"But not really a concern." The demon reminded her with a soft word, tapping his fingers upon the table between them. "If you behave, I can ensure you'll lead a very long life indeed."

Though it perhaps might not have been what she would want. There were a thousand things in this world he still intended to do, and more than a few involved Genevieve and the Avarice he had towards his own power.

Then the question came. A small flicker of consciousness through her drunken haze.

"I'm conducting an experiment." He told her softly. The drink slid towards her.
 

Genevieve Belisario

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Behave.

Why can you not just be a proper Lady, Genevieve?

You are an embarrassment to our family name.

Leave the messy work to the men.

You should be married by now.

Perhaps you will meet your mate.


Just Behave.

Genevieve looked at up at Coran with a glare that only lasted a second as she composted herself (as well as she could) and locked those memories back into the recesses of her magic.

She just looked down at her half full glass and then back up to catch Coran speaking about an experiment.

"What kind of experimennn?"
Genevieve asked and took a drink. Not a large one. The words of her mother still floated in her mind.
 
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Coran

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He could see the hatred in her eyes. The anger that lingered within them. It was an almost exciting prospect that she might buck against his will. Yet right now the collar around her throat was tight, and what she would do...oh well that would be a curious thing.

Coran watched her for a brief moment more, her words slightly more put together. "I am avarice."

It was a fact that he had shared with her before.

"My hunger, my greed is everlasting. Always I want more, demand it." Hence the remarkable thing about being able to control himself with her. Ordinarily he would simply have consumed all she had to offer and moved on.

"I thought this was my way, but..." He mused. "Feeding the greed of others seems almost..."

Not as good, but close. "A remarkable discovery you've helped me make."
 

Genevieve Belisario

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Hmmmm was the noise that left Genevieve's lips as she fought to keep her eyes open again.

"You should like people worshipping you for gold then...greed...and...shit..."

Genevieve swayed and then slowly let her head rest on her arms on the table.

"Shhhhh now..."
 
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Coran

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"Mm." Coran mused with a nod as Genevieve continued to sway back and forth.

The Demon's lips thinned for a brief moment, watching as she slowly kipped herself over the table and seemingly embraced the sluggishness of sleep.

It was an amusing sight, and at another time he might have let himself laugh. "Rest."

He said, patting her head like a child.

"I'll see you carried to a room." Then...then he would begin to sow some seeds. Find out more about this new thread he had discovered. Perhaps draw in the string, and begin to spread his word within this den of Avarice.
 

Genevieve Belisario

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Genevieve did not hear anything else Coran had to say as she dozed off into her drunken slumber. There could probably be some kind of disaster and she still wouldn't wake up.

At some point, Coran had her brought up to their room and she didn't wake.

Genevieve woke up as light started to stream through the window. She put her arm over her eyes and groaned.

"What the fuck happened, Coran?" She asked. She was not even sure if he was in the room.
 
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Coran

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He was.

Sitting in a chair, a book laying within his lap. It was an ancient treatise upon one of humanities greatest achievements, or so the texts claimed anyway. Coran was not so sure on that, but then again he had never much paid attention.

The ways of mortals was always...boring. "You drank."

Coran declared simply as he closed the book.

"Then you drank some more." His voice was soft, surprisingly so. A cruel man might have shouted, let that ache in her head twist and break, but he chose not to. "And helped me discover something, interesting."

He mused. "You should be proud."
 

Genevieve Belisario

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Genevieve groaned again. She must have drank a lot if she felt like crap. She, of course, didn’t remember shit after the first few drinks.

“Oh? What did I help you discover?”

Genevieve slowly sat up in bed and ran her fingers through her long hair to get rid of some of the sleep tangles.
 
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Coran

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He smiled. "A new form of power."

No.

That didn't exactly put into picture what he had found. Power was all well and good. Strength was all well and good, but this? This was something entirely different. It was...it was a way to derive worship, to grant both himself and his people a boon.

"I am avarice, Genevieve." He told her. "Greed made manifest. I want and I want. I feed, consume all I can."

The Demon mused. "That is all I desire. Anything and everything."

A smile touched his face.

"A reflection of what lays within all man." And perhaps even Fae, given her taste. "Feeding that desire in others had a...profound effect."

The smile lingered.
 

Genevieve Belisario

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Genevieve extracted herself from the blankets and moved to sit on at the foot of the bed. Her bare feet resting on the floor and she listened to Coran.

That was interesting. That was something they could use. That was something she could possibly use against him someday.

"What kind of profound effect?" Genevieve asked with genuine curiosity.

"And you are welcome..." She smiled at him.
 
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Coran

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Coran seemed to pause, as though he was not entirely sure how to put into words that he was thinking of. Then finally he answered. "Power."

He said with an air of finality.

"A different sort." Admittedly. "But power all the same."

A wicked smile touched his lips. "I finally understand what that little whelp saw in the people of this world. Why she coaxed them."

Genevieve's idea had been to coax worship from these worms. To make them see him as a God. He knew it would make him strong, but now? Now he knew just what he had to do. How strong that he could actually be.

The little Fae was proving more and more useful.
 

Genevieve Belisario

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“Their greed?” Genevieve asked as she slowly (very slowly) stood up from the bed. Her body would heal itself completely in a bit but until then she had to deal with the hangover.

“So the idea of giving gold to the less fortunate would help with that? I am sure some would turn against their fellows in order to get more.”

She was braiding her long blonde hair as she walked towards Coran and took a seat at the table with him.

“I didn’t saw anything embarrassing did I?”
 
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Coran

The Demon
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"You said plenty of things." Coran remarked dryly, though the weight did not fall one way or another.

The Demon was hardly one to weigh judgment on the facet of 'embarrassment'.

He was a creature of another world, something that could hardly fathom such things. By his own thoughts the fae were much the same. Beyond the games and thoughts of mortals that might feel as though they slipped up at some point.

"I do not care for charity." He clarified. "It's greed, Genevieve."

He smile. "A touch of absolute wanton avarice. Those who would do anything and everything for more."

Coran seemed to muse.

"It is they who are my people." The source of his new power.
 

Genevieve Belisario

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Genevieve finished braiding her hair and turned to look towards Coran with a mischievous smirk on her face.

"I have just had the best idea, my dear. I believe Mr. Cobell should have a gala. We will invite the Lords and the other rich to the party. We will invent some sort of hunt or game for a large sum of gold...they would trip over themselves to get it. That is how the rich are,"
she finished.

"We could even dig up some actual gold to show off and entice them more," she was pacing now as she spoke. Her idea seemed like a good one that would definitely be good for Coran. The rich always wanted more.
 
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Coran

The Demon
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Coran's smile widened with every word that Genevieve said. His lips turning near a Cheshire grin as she proferred the whole of her idea. It was wondrously quick thinking, particularly with the Demon having only just noted his new…ability.

"That is an utterly wonderful idea." Coran complimented.

With so much greed in the room Coran couldn't even imagine what it would feel like. An air and surge of power that he could feed upon. Not just the avarice for the prize, but the bargains he could make. The gifts that he could offer those there.

It was better than simple worship.

"Yes." He said with a nod. "Yes I believe that is exactly what Mr. Cobell shall do."

He mused. "And I know just the prize to offer."

Gold, yes, but more. So much more.
 

Genevieve Belisario

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Genevieve found herself with a genuine smile crossing her face when Coran complimented her. She liked when he was pleased with her apparently and she was not entirely sure why.

"And what would that prize be, Coran?"

She asked as she slowly glided closer to him and the table.

"Riches, magic, true love?" Genevieve asked with an unconcerned air. "Beauty? All of the above?" She finished with a laugh.
 
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Coran

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Riches, beauty, love. All things that mortals craved and craved. Sparks of life that they could enjoy during their brief time upon this world. Things that they coveted above all else and held close to their hearts.

All useless in the end of course.

None would bring what they truly craved. All of them were simple flickers they could occupy their short little lives with. An end always came to them in the end, for that was how they had been created. ”No, no my dear.”

He mused.

”Immortality.” Coran said, standing up and heading towards the door.