Private Tales A Taste of This World

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Coran nodded, and reached out to take her hand.

Slowly the two of them descended down the stairs, more than a dozen eyes upon them as they walked into the crowd of greedy humans. The people around them waited, desperation clinging to their souls. A servant opened a nearby door, an announcement was made, and seconds later the flow of the crowd began.

Dozens of people moved outside, all steering well clear of Coran and Genevieve. A few tried to strike up conversation, but most were simply too occupied with greed and curiosity to even ask what was happening.

Minutes later they all stood outside, overlooking Cobell’s wondrous gardens.

There a raceway had been laid out. Large enough for horses to maneuver around. ”The game is simple, for those who wish to play.”

Coran said out loud.

”Reach the end…” He projected his voice, ensuring that every man and woman in the crowd heard. ”By any means necessary.”

The Demon set the spark. Violence always went well with greed.
 
Their greed did not please her in the same way it did Coran but she was still pleased by the reactions of the guests. She smiled as she stood next to Coran and looked over the immaculate gardens that they had reorganized slightly for this party.

Genevieve watched as the racers got ready to go. Once it seemed like the first group of ten was ready, she spoke loudly to start the contest.

"On your marks! Go!" She yelled out as the horses started to move at the behest of their riders.

"How many do you think will die in this first race?" She asked Coran before placing a happy kiss on his cheek.
 
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Coran watched as the horses began, his skins eyebrow raising slightly as Genevieve placed a surprisingly tender kiss upon his cheek.

He looked at her for a brief moment, as though suspecting something, and only then answered. "A few, but not too many, I think."

The greed was starting to bloom, it had been sparked, but it had not truly set in. Things would get more desperate as the night went on, as the games narrowed the pool. It was an inevitability. Eventually they would fall over one another.

Coran would have to make sure they didn't all die.

He needed their greed, that power.

"We'll have to keep stoking the flames, my Dear." He slowly leaned in and whispered. "A gentle hand, a whispered word. We need them to not just want it, but need it."
 
Genevieve was oblivious to Coran's suspicions as she watched the race with glee.

Yes, a few would die for sure. They would be weak though. Their greed would not be great enough if they didn't make it through this first game even.

"Aren't you happy that you found someone with my particular talent?"

She turned her attention to the demon in this handsome body and let the mischievous smirk cross her lips.

"Does it work with greed besides for gold? Perhaps sex?" She had an idea that would turn the half of the party not participating into a fun little greedy game of group fucking.
 
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"Mm, of course." Coran said, and surprisingly meant it as well. Temptation was easy, but something like this? It was most certainly far more expansive than he would have had the patience for himself.

Plus, it had been Genevieve who'd first lit the spark of this new...foundation he could now stand upon. A small smile touched his lips as he watched the race below. Many people were now stumbling over one another, shouting, lashing out with whips meant for horses.

He could sense the greed begin to grow. "No, I do not think so my dear."

Coran mused.

"That would be lust." A chuckle escaped his throat. "That sin belongs to another."

Though Coran was sure he still writhed deep within the abyss.
 
“I would think that lust and greed would be excellent friends,” she said in response. It did make sense that they were separate though. Different sins may work in combination but they were still different.

“Oh, those three are getting towards the end,” Genevieve point out three men who rode their horses hard. Each of them had blood somewhere on their body and they looked tired. First race was already taking people out with ease.

“How are you feeling?” The fae asked Coran softly. Clearly she was referencing the fact that they greed was so strong around them right now.
 
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"Friends?" He mused. "No I think not."

There were not many friends within the Abyss, none if the truth was really told. "Perhaps something close."

He had always aligned with that particular malevolence, though it would have been easy to stab him in the back. Not as easy as some, but he would not have thought more than a few seconds about it if truly came to something like that.

Gaze flickered as Genevieve pointed out the race coming to a close.

"I feel..." He frowned, musing. "I need more."

He could feel the prickle of power pouring into him. The small gasp of magic. He needed more so much more. "Lets stoke these flames, shall we?"

Coran said as one of the men rushed through the finish line.
 
"Hmmmm," Genevieve mused as the crowd cheered for the bloody man. "I think I have an idea," she said before moving to get the attention of everyone.

"This gentleman has one the first race. There will be four more like this before the one for a big prize that will consist of the four winners. I have decided to change some things around though," a pregnant pause to allow the natives to grow restless. "The winner of each race will receive some gold to add some incentive to winning the smaller races. The winner of each race and any surviving racers are able to immediately join in the next race..."

Her voice trailed off as the whispers started. Would these men ride again so soon? Would this first winner chance death in order to get more gold?

The fae walked back over to her Demon. "Good start?"
 
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Coran watched as those in the crowd seemed to be fueled as much by greed as that simple need for competition. Genevieve's words struck home, spinning their web, and those within the courtyard seemed almost too eager.

He could feel it now. That sense of competition, the need to not only enrich themselves, but also to prove they were better than the next man. It was a different kind of avarice, the kind which brought on glory and acclaim. A smile touched his face as the Fae returned to him. "Yes."

The Demon said with a nod.

"I believe it is." His eyes flickered down into the courtyard again, noticing some of the men whispering among themselves. A few glancing up towards the host couple.

"I think..." Coran mused. "Another game."

He turned to Genevieve. "A bit of a hunt."
 
"Oh? What are we hunting?" The fae asked as she caught sight of the whispering men. Whispering men were never a good thing so it was time to redirect.

"It doesn't matter. I will find a few of the staff to watch the races and you can announce the hunt?"

Genevieve asked a question but she was already moving to find some staff to control into being fair judges for the races. No one needed the loser arguing with the hosts or their people.
 
Coran was about to explain, but it seemed that Genevieve had swept herself up within the ocasion around them. He supposed it was a good thing, best that she was involved in the situation rather than actively resisting his thrall.

The last thing he needed now was another of her outbursts.

For a few moments the Demon simply seemed to muse, watching the crowd below before he took in a long breath. "Ladies and gentlemen!"

He called.

"While we have the race, there are so many of you without a thing to do." A few people glanced at one another. "So allow me to announce our next event! The Hunt!"

A few eyes flickered, watchful, careful. "I have hidden a ring upon one of you this night, as you entered."

Slowly his palm flickered open, and an image appeared just a few inches over his hand. It seemed to hover there, rising and falling in a steady beat. "Find it and you-"

Before he could even finish a woman in the crowd suddenly reached out and grabbed a guest besides her. She latched onto the girl's wrist, forcing her palm open to reveal a hand full of rings. There was a gasp, and then a loud smack as the second woman struck the first.

"Oh dear." Coran commented with a slight smile as chaos threaded through the crowd.
 
Genevieve had heard Coran's words as she secured some staff to watch the races.

She stepped up to the side of her demon as one woman smacked the other.

"Oh dear."

Oh dear, indeed. This was not what she had imagined when he said hunt but she loved it already. This seemed much more entertaining than the alternative of killing animals.

"You are a naughty demon, Coran," Genevieve said with a smile.

The crowd that wasn't racing was now attacking anyone and everyone.

"How many rings did you actually hide?"
 
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The demon reveled within the scene for a moment. Not because of the violence or anything so base, no, because he could practically feel the greed emanating off of those below. They were so desperate, so filled with desire taht they could hardly contain themselves. Scrapping for whatever they could reach.

It was a delectable feast.

So much so that he could barely hear Genevieve as she spoke to him. A small smile touched his lips, and he began to feel the power trickle into him. It wasn’t enough, it would never be enough, but he could feel it. ”Oh.”

He said with a smile.

”None of course.” Slowly Coran pulled himself away from the sight, glancing towards Genevieve. ”But I suspect that they will find one, or two.”

The Demon chuckled wryly. ”Whether I placed it or not.”
 
The fae simply shook her head at the demon. The eyes of the body he inhabited locked with hers and she felt the need to do whatever he wanted her to do. She knew there was no compulsion at the moment either. She just wanted to please him. She wanted him to be proud of her.

Genevieve quickly shook away those feelings as Coran chuckled.

Quite naughty, indeed, she thought.

"Remember that we cannot let them all kill each other," Genevieve reminded the demon. He did need to have people alive to worship him after all.

She watched two men start to fight over a plain gold band. The other was not giving up his ring and she soon saw a flash of steel disappear into the thieves abdomen.
 
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Coran watched the chaos, lips thinning for a brief moment as he watched steel flicker into flesh. Once upon a time he might have enjoyed the violence, the base impulse of humanity, but Genevieve was right.

"I suppose so." He mused.

Still, he let the violence continue. Men and women bit into one another, desperately looking, searching. Until finally a woman stepped forward. Her hair was a mess, her dress torn and her eyes wild, but in her fingers she clutched a band of silvery white.

It was decorated with dark stones, an emerald set in the center. The type of ring that likely cost more than a farmers yearly wages. The sort of piece which women clamored for when they were to bed wed.

"I found it!"

The woman lied, sweeping forward towards Coran and Genevieve.

An eye row perked on his mask, and he glanced over towards the Fae. In the crowd he could feel the sweeping jealousy, the greed carrying through them as they stopped fighting and looked towards their hosts. Waiting for confirmation.

Coran mused for a moment, then looked to Genevieve. "We'll, my dear? Is that your ring?"
 
"I suppose so."

She could hear the disappoint resignation in his answer even though he did not stop the fighting. Genevieve just shook her head with an evil little smirk crossing her lips.

The woman was soon heading towards the two of them with the beautiful ring in her hand. She wondered briefly where it had actually come from.

"We'll, my dear? Is that your ring?"

Genevieve could have sworn she told Coran that fae couldn't lie but here he was asking her to lie. If she said no, the fighting would continue and she couldn't say yes since it wasn't her ring. She decided to go another direction.

"If it fits my finger, I think I shall remember if it is mine of now," the fae woman lifted her left hand for the woman to put the ring on her ring finger.
 
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The woman didn't seem to question things at all, and in that very moment Coran knew exactly why.

He could practically see the avarice within her. The swirling mass of power that it represented for him. It fed into him, drew from the woman's smirking lips as she reveled within her victory. A long breath heaved in his chest, though no air touched the bodies useless lungs.

Instead Coran seemed to breath in the power of the the room.

Greed mixed with envy and wrath, but only one of those feelings touched his being. Fingers curled into fists, and his smile seemed to brighten. "Looks like we have a winner!"

The demon declared.

"That ring seems to be just perfect." He declared, and the woman before Genevieve let out a whoop of excitement.
 
Genevieve could see the anger emanating from the crowd. They wanted the ring and the prize and the praise. They had gotten none of it. She could only imagine how Coran was feeling right now with all the greed running rampant through the gardens.

"What do I win?" The woman asked in an extremely demanding voice.

Genevieve turned her attention from the woman to Coran with a raised brow. If she kept that tone, she may end up with the prize of death.
 
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Coran looked down at the woman with an expression of bemusement.

This close he could practically smell the greed permeating in the air. The woman was a snapshot away from demanding more and more. He could see it within her eyes, that incessant avarice which only seemed to grow and grow.

Slowly he took in a deep breath, shaking his head. "Why this house, of course."

Gasps rang out, some from the crowd and at least one from the woman herself. She seemed utterly shocked, though Coran simply shrugged.

"The prizes tonight, Ladies and Gentlemen." He began. "Truly are something to desire."

His eyes flickered towards Genevieve, a smile on his face as those before them practically went wild.
 
Genevieve smiled at the lucky winner and nodded in confirmation when she looked from the demon to the fae. The crowd seemed to now believe that the games and the prizes were really worth it.

The crowd that had gathered was paying attention to their hosts, the woman that they all looked like they wanted to kill, or someone standing close by and they missed the finishing of the next race.

The man who had won started to yell at the hosts about his victory as he dismounted his horse. He did not notice that the man who had come in second place had come up on his side. The man held a dagger in one hand and plunged it into the winner's gut. The winner held his side as he started to bleed to death.

"It looks like we have a second race winner!" Genevieve declared.

The man must be quite greedy to kill someone in cold blood. She was sure Coran would love it.
 
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A life was snuffed out, and with it the potential for almost limitless greed.

Yet that feeling paled in comparison to the rush of avarice which moved through the room like a tidal wave. More winners were declared, more prizes were given. It was that which stoked the envy within others, and the greed beneath that.

The feeling swept through the crowd. It was a glorious thing which lasted not just for the night, but a day and a moon more. Time seemed to slip into nothing, the party around them lasting and rounding for days on end without a break.

It was only on the third that things stopped.

Guests were drained dry, ushered to leave.

At the end Coran seemed to stand a head taller, the skin that he had stolen no longer falling to pieces. Stitched together by a power now found. "What an extraordinary idea that was."

The demon complemented.
 
Genevieve had stood by her demon's side all three days except for when she needed a few hours of sleep. Unlike him, she was still technically mortal. She needed to sleep and eat in order to maintain her life. Now she stood next to him in a brilliant blood red gown as she watched their guests finally start to leave. Some looked like they were the walking dead while others looked smug and couldn't stop bragging about their winnings.

"What now, my dear?" She asked softly.

Was he strong enough to fight or did they need to do this again? She was not entirely sure how it all worked now that he had the worship.
 
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It would take time.

Coran knew it, though saying so seemed almost superflous at this point. The power which the other had still exceeded him, he was sure of that. A single party wouldn't be enough, he would need more, but even if he had it...

There was the question of how to use it. He could feel the power flowing through him, the stolen strength which course through his veins. It was there, but beyond that he could not yet put it to use. It was an odd feeling, off putting.

"I need more." The Demon said, not admitting to an ounce of weakness.

"A city." He said softly. "I need a city."

Yes, more people. More Avarice. More time. He would learn what to do with this new found strength. He just needed the time. "One of greed, and want and excess."
 
"A city?" Genevieve echoed with a mix of apprehension and excitement lacing her voice.

She was not familiar with human cities but she had heard tales of some extravagant places.

"A heard tale of a city that makes its money off wine and they are exceedingly wealthy but I cannot think of the name."

It impressed her how easily Coran had wrecked this city thanks to their own greed. It was beautiful and frightening to watch.
 
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He considered for a moment. "There are many."

Oban for one, but he did not think that was the place Genevive meant. This little town and it's nobility were something, but Oban was...something else. It was not a place they could succeed as well, not with a Templar Chapter within the city limits and the King more...apt to paranoia.

"Selucia?" The Demon asked. "A quaint little vineyard."

Yes, that was probably the place Genevieve meant.

Selucia was a smaller city, but a city nonetheless. Rules not by a Baron or a King, but the local Guilds. A council of sort, not elected, but simply held together through years of tradition. A perfect spot for them, especially given the guild was only interested in one thing; Money.

"Yes I believe that will be an excellent choice." He complemented Genevieve, slowly looking at her.

"You've been full of excellent ideas as of late." The Demon complemented. "Perhaps in time I'll remove that mar from your flesh."
 
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