Private Tales A Taste of This World

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
His lips on her shoulder caused prickles to run across her skin. He was so kind and so gentle to her.

No, he isn't. You are a fucking idiot. He keeps biting you.

He would protect her and take care of her.

Gods, you are stupid. Wake the fuck up, Genevieve.

"Thank you, Coran," she said softly before abruptly standing up and stepping out of the tub. Her long slender legs carried her over to the stool that two towels were folded upon. She grabbed one and wrapped it around herself before holding the other out to Coran. "Shall we?"
 
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Coran pulled himself form the tub with one liquid smooth motion. He stepped beyond the rim, strutting towards Genevieve and plucking the towel from the little stool. "I suppose we should."

He mused.

"This little village has already lost it's Priest." The Demon told her softly. "It would be almost cruel to not take a little more. Don't you think, My Dear?"

The Demon mused, wondering how she would do it. He loved the mystery of it. The fact of finding something new upon this world. That was why he enjoyed it so much here. Why he clung to it.

More than that, he dug into her desire. That need to be wanted, appreciated. "Why don't you start?"

He asked, genuine excitement tinging his voice.

"I'm so very eager to see you work." Coran said, his hand slowly slipping over her hip as he urged her on.
 
Genevieve swatted playfully at Coran's hand on her hip. She was not going out there in just a towel. She dried off quickly and dropped the towel on the floor before grabbing her clothes. She got dressed quickly and waited for Coran so they could go into the main tavern together.

The fae looked around the room and found someone who looked perfect. A sweet looking young woman with long brown hair and big brown eyes that was currently serving drinks to a couple. When she walked back over, Genevieve caught her arm and pulled her to stand in front of her. Genevieve felt the connection snap into place as soon as their eyes met.

"Hello, you are beautiful and I do believe you would fetch me a good price at the market. Do you want to live a better life than this?" The girl nodded. "Good, why don't you put that tray down and follow me then." The girl did not say a word as she set the tray down and followed Genevieve towards the baths and her doom.
 
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Coran tagged along with Genevieve, stepping behind her and observing quietly. He leaned back against the wall right besides the door of the bathroom. He watched the Fae approach her victim, smiling slightly as she worked her magics.

Then slowly Genevieve made her way back towards him and the door, but before she could step inside Coran regarded her. "Just one?"

He asked softly.

His head turned, regarding the rest of the tavern.

"I think we could do more, couldn't we darling?" Coran asked. "There's a whole room here, just ready for the taking."

The Demon leaned over and whispered into her ear. "Take it."
 
As the Demon whispered the order in her ear, Genevieve felt an invisible collar lock into place around her neck. She was his to control completely. She looked at Coran and nodded once before she set to work destroying the tavern.

She flitted through the room persuading each person to join the rest in the backroom. There was a party happening and it was grand. There was a meal fit for a king just waiting back there. There were baths full of beautiful women. With each person, she just knew instinctively what to say to them.

Once she was done, she returned to where Coran stood watching her. "Did I do well?" She asked in her most innocent voice.
 
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The tavern was little more than a cattle pen when Genevieve was done.

Everyone inside seemed mindless, dull, slaves to a will that was not their own. Each life cut short, each one fated to die in some horrid way, but not by Coran's hand. The demon did not care for them, the tiny flickering candles of power that they represented.

No, not next to Genevieve's roaring inferno.

Yet watching her slide the leash around their throats had been satisfying. Watching her magic work exhilarating. It was a mirrored reflection of his own powers. Hers persuasion, and his pure and utter terror that touched the base of the mind.

Coran was a horror, and she? She something they placed upon a pedestal. "Yes."

The demon said, running a finger beneath her chin.

"Very well." He mused. "I'm more than impressed."

He told her. "How could anyone ignore such gifts?"

Coran asked her.
 
"They shouldn't. I am powerful and beautiful." she answered without thought. The compulsion to answer his question was strong. Her answer wouldn't have been any different though. She knew she was amazing.

"I don't kill though, Coran. I just bring them to my Queen. What do you want to do with them?" Genevieve smiled at him like she was awaiting his next order.
 
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The words hung in the air for a few moments, as though the preamble to something more. Slowly Coran turned his head, regarding the cattle within the pen. Then slowly, his attention turned back towards Genevieve.

"Why not kill them?" He whispered, slowly reaching out.

His hands clasped at her hips, fingers curling on her skin as he touched and drew her in against himself. The heat of his stolen flesh touched hers, his eyes seeming to draw over her. "Who is a Queen to tell you what to do?"

Coran asked.

"Who is anyone..." Save for himself. "...To command you?"

He mused, glancing towards the humans. "Why deliver them?"

Coran sang. "Why take them anywhere? When you can end their lives...take that power for yourself? See their blood flow, and revel in the embrace of that control."
 
Genevieve thought about his words as she stood in his strong embrace. There was no escape from him and her mind had finally stopped yelling at her. It was peaceful.

"Do you want me to kill them all? I have never killed anyone before..."

Truth. The fae couldn't lie. She had never had issues persuading humans so she had never had to resort to violence. When she was not working, she could be found at parties. Her life had never lent itself to murder before.
 
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Something sinister slipped through the veil. "Yes."

He said softly.

They were useless to him. He could have consumed them, could have taken what flickers of life they still had left after Genevieve's magic. But that was not why he'd done this. He glanced slowly at the Fae, his hand coming up.

A knife appeared within his palm, seemingly from nowhere. It slipped into Genevieve's grasp, his fingers forcing hers to wrap around the hilt.

"Deny your Queen the prize she seeks." He told her softly. "Show the world that your choices are yours, and no one elses. That you do what you want, when you want."
 
His command took over her body as she looked at the knife that appeared in his hand. Genevieve obediently took the knife from Coran and looked down at her hand.

"Okay," she said simply before walking towards the first human.

She killed each one. Every single human in the tavern. It was not quick. It was not painless. Genevieve did not have the skill of a killer. She was messy. There were more stabs and slashes than necessary.

It took so long but she finally looked up at Coran and smiled at him. Her entire body was covered in the blood of the others. She definitely needed another bath.
 
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Coran stood.

Watched.

An hour passed. An hour of blood and death. Of suffering and silent screams behind eyes that held no control over themselves. It was a gruesome display. An art that no man should have to witness. A gallery of despair and loss.

One that Coran fully reveled in.

When it was done. When corpses lay on the floor like a carpet the Demon swept forward. His hand came up, softly grasping Genevieve's bloody chin. "Look at you."

He whispered.

"Standing above where they want you to be." Coran mused. "Taking power back from those who would see you kneel."
 
Genevieve smiled through her blood coated lips at the Demon. "I did well?" She asked so softly. "What would you like me to do now?"

The fae woman was meant to serve this Demon. Every fiber of her being told her it was true. She lived to please him now.
 
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Coran ran his thumb slowly over the length of her jaw, tracing his digit through a trail of blood. There was so much for them to do, so much that they could do.

"Now..." The Demon began, musing. "Now I think we leave."

A trail of blood and death in their wake. "Visit that little castle in the sky."

He whispered.

"So I can show you the depths of my appreciation." The words rang out, though they were a lie. The simple truth was that killing villagers only remained fun for so long. Coran needed something more, wanted to see more.

Much of the world still lay before him, and he intended on seeing every corner he could.

Especially with Genevieve at his side.
 
"Should I take another bath first? I will attract attention," her statement was matter of fact. She was covered in the blood of her victims. Head to toe, painted red.

"I can be the Queen of my own castle?" She asked. Her voice was so soft, so innocent, so pleading for the affection she craved. She knew she was no queen. She was his. This Demon who had a strange control over her that she couldn't explain.
 
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The Demon mused for a brief moment. "Whatever you like."

Coran had never much minded the blood, but he knew that his sensibilities were not exactly...universal. Genevieve had let slip bits and pieces of her people, small snippets of their life and being, but not enough for him to guess just yet.

"Take your bath." His hand came up, drawing over her skin for a brief moment.

Slowly he scanned the corpses around them, finding one that had not been yet utterly mutated. Fingers snapped, and the body seemed to contort. The sound of bones twisting and muscle bending echoed out, and then slowly the corpse began to rise.

There was no life behind it's eyes, nothing that spoke of a soul.

The body slowly began to move along it's kin, drawing water from the spiket and heating it for Genevieve's bath. "Yes."

He told her softly.

"Your own castle." Coran assured her. "Your own little Palace."
 
Genevieve watched Coran reanimate one of her victims and it brought her a sick sense of glee.

Once the tub was ready, she stripped off the bloody clothing and stepped into the tub. Her bath this time was short and to the point. She washed the blood off and did a quick inspection to make sure she was mostly clean before she stepped out of the tub.

It was clear that none of the clothes of the dead would do and her old ones wouldn't either. Once granted permission, she went up into the rooms of the tavern to find something that would fit her.

She emerged wearing a dark blue flowy dress that seemed to fit her perfectly. It showed off her considerable assets as well. It was not her normal, everyday wear but it would do.
 
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"Lovely." Coran commented as Genevieve returned to the common room of the tavern.

The Inn was now empty, the bodies all having been contained to the bath house in the back. A serene sort of quiet hung over what would ordinarily have been a room filled with jovial paradise. The Demon reveled in that quiet as much as he had in the death of those who would have disturbed it.

He smiled as she approached him. "Are you ready, my dear?"

Coran asked.

"We have a castle to claim." Nobles to hunt, new things to discover. This world was so very large, and Coran wanted it all.

His hand reached out and gently grasped her hands, pulling Genevieve in close. "And a throne to seat you on."
 
"And you will be seated next to me," Genevieve said as his hands enveloped hers. They left the tavern and she took a deep breath of the clean air as they stepped outside. It had long since become night while they had bathed and she had murdered.

The town was quiet as the Demon and his Fae left. They were ready to reek havoc upon those who were so unexpecting.
 
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As they stepped out of the tavern silence greeted them. It was well into the night now, silence reigning over the little village. It was a different sort of quiet, a sleepiness that demons of sloth might have appreciated.

Yet Coran wasn't one of them. "Yes."

It was a lie, but a small one.

Coran had no interest in castles or thrones. Things of this world, even things of those beyond like in Genevieve's realm held no interest to him. He was here to live. To experience. To do as he pleased when he pleased.

The pleasures of this world was what he craved, the taste of beauty and power.

"West, my darling." Coran coaxed as they began to walk. "Towards the mountains."

And the wonders they would find there.
 
And so they headed West.

Genevieve stayed quiet as they traveled. He was not speaking much and she was not filling the silence. She did not care to make small talk right now. She was too busy thinking about how her life had changed so much in the last twelve hours. She had come here to get humans for the slave market and she wasn't going back. Would she ever go back? Perhaps...if Coran willed it so.
 
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The road was quiet, it always was. Yet they did not travel like peasant, Coran would never have allowed such a thing.

He fully intended on keeping his promise to her, to place her upon a throne.

Coran knew, understood the lies of this world. Though he had not seen into her heart, the Demon knew well what Genevieve desired. She wanted to be appreciated, praised, loved. He knew that, and he would see her wishes fulfilled.

So they went by carriage, the plush comfort of cushioned seats and pack animals pulling them along.

It had taken only a small touch of his own power to gather the carriage, a whisper from Genevieve to secure it.

On the third day of their travel the carriage came to a stop, the mountains around them having grown to spires large enough to eclipse the sun. "I do believe we're there, my darling."

He told her softly.

"Are you ready to see your palace?" Coran asked.
 
Genevieve had enjoyed the carriage ride very much. She had made some small talk but for the most part she slept and read some of the books she had stolen from the village. She was content to be in her own world. Coran had taken advantage of any power use to secure her obedience again and Genevieve didn't even seem to notice or mind.

"Oh, yes!" She said as she closed the book that she had been reading.
 
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Coran glanced at the book for a brief moment, frowning with a small amount of distaste. He had never much cared for such human frivolity.

What was written in those pages was often filled with lies, tales of things that could never be or hopes that could never pass. He shook his head slightly, dismissing the thought entirely as he stood and slowly grasped the handle of the carriage door. "Good."

He said, reaching out and tracing a finger along Genevieve's jaw.

The door opened, instantly letting in a chill of mountain air.

As the Demon and Fae stepped from the carriage they would immediately be greeted with the sight of the spine, two massive mountains stretching even above where they stood. Nestled between them was a castle. A palace that stretched into the sky.

It's stone seemed to shine, three towers reaching into the air surrounded by a tall wall. "There it is, darling."

Coran whispered.

"We only have to clear out a bit of..." He mused. "Rabble."
 
Genevieve let out a quiet gasp as she took in the sight of the castle before them. The castle was beautiful but so were the surroundings. This place was magical.

"It's perfect, Coran!" She said with true delight. "We should definitely get rid of the rabble. I do not want such things in my castle."

Genevieve took his hand and started towards the castle. Her excitement drowning out any thoughts of how it may be weird to hold his hand.
 
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