Private Tales A Taste of This World

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Coran strolled along with Genevieve at his side. "Perhaps it's a good time to use your unique talents again, darling."

The demon told her with a smile.

"We'll need servants." He didn't care for such things in the least of course, but it was all part of the game. He knew that he could bend her further to his will, and Coran intended on doing just that. "They can draw us a bath."

Coran continued. "Fetch drinks, perhaps even more."

He mused, his hand slipping from hers as they approached the gate.

Fingers came together, and then snap. The sound rang out far louder than it should have, and suddenly the castle gates buckled. The screeching sound of tearing metal echoed out, and a doorway formed as the Demon's magic warped reality itself.
 
Genevieve watched on delight as Coran opened the gates to her new castle for them. He was so thoughtful. She stepped onto the grounds and started towards the castle itself. All this beauty was hers.

She smiled at Coran, "you really know how to treat a woman."

As they approached the castle, she saw a servant that had been outside tending to something. She approached her and spoke to her softly. After a few moments, they were invited inside.

It took longer to gather all of her victims here. The place was big and some decided to hide from her. They were very rude and they didn't last long. She didn't need that kind of behavior in her castle.

Once everyone was gathered near the front of the castle, she swept in to meet Coran again. "That is everyone," she said with a smile.
 
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"Good girl." Coran praised with a smile, slowly looking over the servants arrayed in front of them. Most were in an utter daze, an emptiness to their eyes as though all of their thoughts had been stolen.

How fun.

One of the servants seemed to step forward. A nervous jitter ran through the girl, and yet there was something in her tone as she spoke. It was a meekness, but the kind born from fear of the unknown. The girl didn't know, but she wanted to please. Do as Genevieve would want her to do.

"My Lord, my Lady…"

Coran looked at the girl. "Yes?"

He asked, wondering what this could be. The demon had assumed that Genevieve's magic would make all of them quiet, that they would only do as told. Yet this was something a little more. He could tell from her look, the way she peered at them.

"Did…did you want to see the vault?"

His head tilted almost immediately.

"The vault? Why yes. Of course." Coran said with a wide grin.
 
"I told a few that we would be their new lords and they should share anything of interest with us." Genevieve smiled at Coran, hoping he was proud of her forward thinking.

The two of them followed the girl through the labyrinth of stone halls until they came to huge stone door. She quickly set to work opening it for them. Genevieve was impressed with the girls strength and figured she had some kind of magic hidden in that small body.

The fae stepped in and gasped. Jewelry, artwork, statues sat in every corner and on every surface of the huge room. It was beautiful and it was all theirs. "I think you picked the right castle, Coran," she said with a smile at her Demon Lord.
 
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"Very smart." He praised, watching a few of the other servants as they stood in place. The trip down to the vault was a rather short one, and before long the two found themselves standing in a field of gold and glitter.

Coran glanced around, his face a mask as Genevieve praised his choice.

Such riches had never much meant anything at all to him. The temptations of man were so droll, so boring, that they often passed for little more than nothing to the Demon. What was gold to a creature that would live forever. A diamond to a thing who knew more than the greatest scholar.

A pendant to-

His thoughts suddenly stopped in their tracks. "I think I did, my dear."

The Demon said, his gaze falling upon a small object practically discarded atop a pile of gold and jewels. It was a pendant, a strange symbol wrapped in wire and set with a single jet black stone. Among the riches it seemed like nothing, but Coran appeared utterly captivated by it.
 
Genevieve was busy looking at all the sparkly things and thinking about how she'd be the envy of the next Summer party. It took her a few moments to realize that something had caught Coran's eye.

She put down the necklace that had been in her hands and walked over to where the Demon stood. "What is that?" She asked as she reached out to pick it up. It certainly didn't look like much.
 
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Coran glanced away from the amulet for only a second as Genevieve wandered over towards it. A slight frown touched his lips, but only for a moment, as she picked it up.

"There are very few things in the world..." The Demon began. "...that are connected to mine."

As she picked it up, a malevolence would radiate from the amulet.

It was not powerful, not strong enough to even be felt by the ordinary. Yet the Fae magics were great, and attuned to such things. "This, is."

He told Genevieve as he stepped besides her, though interestingly he did not move to touch it.
 
Genevieve felt its power and she almost dropped it back onto the pile. She didn't though. There was something about it that called to her to hold it, to take it, to protect it.

"It's beautiful," she said as she stared at it. She hadn't noticed it's beauty earlier. Maybe it was the darkness she felt coming from it that drew her in.

"What are you going to do with it?" She asked as she held it out to Coran.
 
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Coran didn't move to touch it. "It is a piece."

He explained to her.

"Coming here takes power." A lot of power. Not magic, no, that was the wrong word for it. His eyes flickered to the amulet for a moment, then slowly drew back towards Genevieve. "Do the Fae have gods?"

The Demon asked. "Deity's?"

He still knew so little about her people, something he would have to rectify over the coming months.
 
"Yes, we do," Genevieve said as she set the amulet back in its previous spot.

"Why would this just be sitting in a castle vault? Did it bring a demon here?" She asked. She wasn't really understanding what he was saying.
 
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How very interesting. "In a way, it did."

Coran still did not touch the amulet, only looked at it with a hint of amusement flickering behind his eyes. There was still something utterly fascinating to him about her mind. He'd never heard of them before, and each new trickle of truth just wanted to make him dig deeper.

Perhaps this would be another way to string her along. Another lock on the collar around her throat. She wanted to be useful, to be recognized and adored, he could certainly use this.

"Coming here takes power." He reiterated. "Some are strong enough to breach the veil on their own, like myself."

These things he told her were not known to many, even among his own kind. Libraries and ancient cults whispered of it, containing mere scraps of the truth. "But then we must sustain ourselves to remain. Like I do with you."

Gently he caressed her cheek, as if praising her.

"Others are weak." He seemed almost disgusted as he spoke. "And must use the worship of mortals to fuel their power, just as the 'gods' do. Sapping their strength of those who pray to them to eventually breach the veil."

He looked at the amulet again. "This thing, and the call it gives off, means another of the Kindred walks this world."
 
Genevieve practically melted into his hand as he carassed her cheek. His praise was so sweet and genuine. She loved it so much.

"So there is a weaker demon here. What do you want to do about them?" She asked softly and touched his arm as reassurance that she was here for him no matter what.
 
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Coran considered the words for a moment. "If he is here, he is not weak."

Not anymore at least.

Crossing over took a considerable amount of strength, and he guessed that whomever had come here had built up their power over time. There was no telling who it was. Most of his Kin sowed their seeds far and wide, most often with different imagery.

He did not recognize the amulet itself, not the symbol, but he did feel the power coming from it. The same power that he carried in many ways.

"Perhaps the servants will know." Coran said. "A name comes first, though no mortal will know who has truly come."

It would be clue enough. "When I know who they are, then we will decide what to do."

If anything at all.
 
Genevieve nodded and turned to the girl who had been so nice to lead them to the vault. "What is your former lords name?"

"Lord Herman Hewitt," she replied.

"And where is he now?" Genevieve followed up.

"We don't know. He leaves for months at a time."

"Are there any portraits of him in the castle?"

"Yes, back near the front of the house."

Genevieve turned back to Coran. "Good start?"
 
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"Hrm." The name was not one that he was familiar with, it sounded like any other Lord. His head tilted for a moment, and as he considered what this could mean the two of them began to venture towards the front of the manor.

"A good try, precious." Coran praised as they came upon the portrait. "But I do not think this is them."

For only one reason; the man in the portrait was wearing the amulet that Genevieve held. "A worshiper, I think."

He mused for a moment, and then suddenly he grabbed Genevieve.

His arms swept around her in a gentle touch, holding her close.

"Do you know anyone who might be more helpful?" Coran asked. "Someone who might be able to track this Lord at the very least?"

Perhaps if the man spilled his guts he would find answers.
 
Genevieve let out a laugh as Coran pulled her close to him. How was it possible that she liked this demon so much? Of course, she didn't know that it was his influence over her.

The girl nodded at the question Coran had asked and disappeared for a few minutes before coming back. She was leading a man with the expression of those that were completely at Genevieve's will.

"Do you know where your old Lord went when he left here?" She asked the man.

His eyes snapped up to Genevieve and he nodded slowly. "He went to Belgrath."
 
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Belgrath.

Dwarves. A look of disgust flickered over Coran's face. The very idea was almost...disturbing to him. The stout little men held a propensity of stubbornness. The distaste of them was like mud for a regular human. They held a quality of resistance.

It was almost a shock that any of his Kin would venture there, but then again...

If one convinced them to turn, to worship instead of resist...Coran imagined that the taste of that power must have been utterly delectable. "How interesting."

Coran said finally.

His hand reached out, gently trailing under Genevieve's chin.

"I suppose..." He mused. "We'll have to head there eventually."

Coran knew that it was a scale, that he had to maintain the balance of all this. "After we enjoy your new castle, my dear."
 
"And what do you have in mind for our enjoyment?" She asked with the cheery smile that he brought out of her. She had never smiled this much in her life...why was she smiling so much? Genevieve frowned and furrowed her brows for a single moment. No, everything was fine...right?! She shook her head and turned back to the girl.

"Have someone make us dinner and then show us to the best rooms in the place!" She commanded. The girl nodded and disappeared.
 
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Time.

Time had never been a problem for him. He had lived for eons, and traveled this world for centuries. The effects of such things hardly lingered upon him, and yet with his Kindred here he couldn't help but feel it's press.

A frown flickered over his lips for a brief moment, he considered, but only smiled by the time Genevieve looked back towards him. "Oh."

He considered.

"A meal will be a good start." Coran told her. "Then perhaps a bath."

The demon mused, his touch drawing over her. "And a comfortable bed."

They had time yet to revel. At least for now.
 
Genevieve nodded and they were soon taken to a huge dining room that had been set for the two of them. They took their seats and waited for the food to arrive. She was quite surprised when they were served lamb chops with cooked spinach. It did not take long for Genevieve to be in a food utopia as she worked through her chop.

"Yes, this castle was a great idea," she smiled at Coran. She studied his face for a few silent minutes before she went back to eating.

Something was bugging her about him but the voices weren't back. She decided to just stay quiet for now. Maybe she would figure it out.
 
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Coran did not need to eat. Such things did nothing to really sustain him, but he did taste. He could enjoy the meal.

This one was rather delicious, and as the two of them began to dig in Coran mused. "Tell me."

He began with a small smile.

"More of your people." The Demon finished as he chewed. "I feel like i've shared so much, and I know so little of your past."

Coran shook his head. "It's a shame, when it all seems to interesting."
 
Genevieve just looked at him for a few moments before she felt the compulsion to answer him. She frowned at the new feeling and then looked back up at him.

"There are many types of fae. I'm duanann so like...the most important of the types. We have fae that can turn to giant dogs and cats and all sorts of weird stuff. Basically, we are better than mortals in every way. We live very long lives. Like twenty five thousand years, long. We are pretty tall and beautiful..."

She took another bite of food and shrugged. "What do you want to know specifically?"
 
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Coran couldn't help but smile. The way she spoke reminded him of how Elves had lauded themselves. There was a rack of them named the Drow, they were even worse when speaking of their own grandeur. Briefly he wondered if all Fae were like this.

Not that he could complain much.

His own kind were not much better, though in far fewer number than Genevieve's people if he had to guess. "Oh."

Coran mused as he took another bite.

"You mentioned a Queen, earlier." He asked. "I'd like to know more about those who dare to put you down."

The demon sounded as if he himself had somehow been insulted.
 
Genevieve felt that weird pull again. What was going on?

"She is the worst. Queen bitch and no one likes her. Her own family doesn't even like her! How fucked up is that? I heard she just scarred the shit out of her own cousin and she threw her uncle out years ago. Everyone is scared of her." Genevieve shrugged.

The fae rubbed her forehead and closed her eyes. Something was so wrong about all of this.
 
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Coran listened to the idle gossip of the Fae. She had told him days ago that there were half a dozen different courts, all with their own ruler. It was another world hidden from him, one that he would have to eventually step into.

He mused for a moment, then noticed as Genvieve closed her eyes and gently rubbed her forehead.

Slowly the fork he had been holding was set down, it's soft clink against the plate echoing in the massive dining hall. The Demon pushed himself up and away from the table, smiling as he took slow wandering steps to the other side of the hall.

There his hand found itself gently onto the back of her neck. "Are you alright, dear?"

He asked softly, leaning in.

"You look a bit...pale." That was a lie, she looked fine, but he could tell that something was slipping. Pulling away.

Coran couldn't have that.
 
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