CHAINS of BLACK and BLUE ✠ O/F

[H-Huntress L u p a]

- - - - -fσx נ. αyиuя- - -
- - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - - - --Channel the α и g є я swelling inside you
- - - - - - - - - - - --Fighting the boundary 'till you break through
- - - - - - - - - - - --Deep in your s σ u ℓ there's no hesitation
- - - - - - - - - - - -- So make yourself the one they all 「 f є α я 」

They hadn't been given much time to gather their bearings before the shadows showed themselves. Fox had just regained her feet when another girl, much younger and so enchantingly sweet, woke as well. Mumbling something about falling out of bed which on any other occasion might have made the blonde laugh was now chilling. They had all been kidnapped right out of their homes without even knowing about it. For such a feat...had they been spirited away? Fox mentally smacked herself, believing in fairy tales at her age! No, this was elaborately done but the work of humans surely. Things found in tales were exactly that; fairy tails. However to have been kidnapped right out of her study with no notion of what was happening to her was confounding. She hadn't eaten or drank anything the rest of her family hadn't nor did she feel pain - so being knocked unconscious seemed far fetched. Gas or smoke that made her pass out? That had to have been it. As the youngest of the four spoke up, stuttering slightly as she realized she was not in her room Fox sighed. Defeat already looked eminent. Two of the older women were still passed out and this one, well she looked older than she appeared but childish. The story book in her clutches proof of that.

Before Fox could utter anything comforting, which she probably wouldn't have done, she heard a door creak open. Whipping her head around, half turning, she spotted the door as a tall man slipped in. Well more the shadow of a tall man she assumed since she didn't see him clearly. The room was dark, lit by the night's pale light and her eyes were slowly adjusting. They still felt heavy but the situation had her on edge. The man stepped closer reveling a handsome face and a good build but with startling silver hair and crimson eyes. Unnatural. Fox resisted the urge to step away or to cower but it was not every day you woke up in a strange place and had an even stranger man approach you! She had heard of many foreign people with different attributes but the blonde had never heard of silver hair and red eyes. Unless he was an albino? Those were as rare as the fae folk of legend. Unsure of herself, Fox held her tongue as he nudged one of the sleeping women with a frown. No lasting affects!? Lucky!? Fox bridled at such easy words. They were not fine nor lucky! Obviously something very terrible was planned for them yet her anger gave way to a cautious curiosity. What had the man meant by no lasting affects? The drugs?

As the young woman thought the words over the woman he nudged awoke, and Fox saw for the first time the finery the dark haired woman wore. Here she was in a day dress, another in a night gown and another in a gown. They all certainly seemed to have been snatched up from different places but why four of them? One man had made himself known but were there more? Fox had heard of things like this happening; beautiful young women kidnapped and sold off to black markets or buyers with strange taste. A tremor rattled her spine as her lips tightened. Oh Lord, why had he forsaken them? No gentle-born woman, or any woman, deserved this! Standing as still and quiet as a doe caught in the sights of a wolf, Fox tried to keep attention off herself as she looked about through the gloom for a chance at escape or for a weapon. There was only one man so far, if the other three kept his attention she might be able to knock him out and make a run for it. There were plenty of heavy objects in the room that would do the trick.

Yet before Fox could find an opening another man entered the room, this one even more bizarre than the first. The glint of metal caught her attention first though it quickly strayed to the abundance of tattoos that littered his skin. He was breath taking as well, which was some what of an annoyance, and had the same startling red eyes. This was getting eerie and more and more did she feel like she was losing her grip on reality. That maybe, just maybe, those legends, fairy tales and talk of supernatural beings could be true. "I'm losing my mind. I must be hallucinating from the drugs they used...I'm hallucinating," she told herself sternly and cast her gaze elsewhere as the tattoo'd one spoke. Yes...lucky was an interesting choice words. Fox did not find herself or the other women in a very lucky situation.

Again and again more men kept filtering through the door. The youngest girl and the raven haired woman were awake but Fox's gaze kept traveling to the one woman still passed out on the rug. Hoping for the sake of their survival she was alright. As the next man entered he seemed to be the most normal out of the trio but Fox ignored him. Ignoring them all as they leered at her and the others as she let her pale blue eyes meander about; memorizing the room and its contents. Ignored him until he spoke that is. Demons!? The blonde's head snapped back to them, eyes flickering up and down their physics as if to find some evidence of this statement while stifling a startled gasp. Impossible! Yet just as incredulous as them being demons sounded this grand opportunity he spoke of bothered her. Just what had they been kidnapped for? Fox could hedge a few wild guesses, each more dismaying then the prior. They had to get out of here! She had to get out of here! Whether the other girls would be as determined or not Fox was going to bolt the first moment she got.

As if the last several minutes hadn't been uncomfortable and mysterious a fourth man entered the parlor making Fox huff a sigh. She should have known. Four women, four men to match. The situation had her almost screaming but she held herself with as much dignity as she could without being glaringly obvious. This new one, however, held a different air about him. His coloring was extremely different and he was the tallest out of the men. Laid back as he made some comment to who ever was Christan, and glanced them all over. Each of the men seemed to be looking them over as if they were some pretty mare to openly stare at and make judgements upon. As was the way of the world. Fox knew men had the power to determine a woman's life. A father picked his daughter's husband. A husband held all the power in the marriage. Sons were first priority and if the husband passed before the wife the widow answered to her sons. So on and so forth, however, Fox's father hadn't stuck around and her grandfather had died in her youth when he was still doting upon her and not planning matches for her. In other words Fox was use to standing on par with the men in her life as she ran her family's shipping company. She understood her place in this strange new house but that did not mean she wouldn't fight against it when given the chance.

Right now, however, would be a poor time to pick a fight. She remained tongue tied as the men,...or demons as they called themselves, gazed at them and made comments. Smaller than expected? Fox blinked, glancing at her body, before casting her wary gaze at the others. True...she was taller than her mother but at five foot three she was still pretty small. The girl in the night gown was smaller than her though...it didn't matter. Fox pushed the thoughts out of her mind as the golden haired man approached them, leaning down to examine them at a closer proximity and suddenly Fox found herself face to face with him.

Clenching her teeth Fox went to step back away from him when his arm reached up and snagged her. Astoundingly he lifted her off her feet, settling her against him like a bird on a perch with that one arm. Were all men so strong!? Gasping she unintentionally leaned into the brute to keep from falling, placing her hands gingerly on his shoulder and arm as he spoke. His mother!? Lord she was confused, what did his mother have anything to do with this? Was she about to become a household slave or something? Was she fine? Fox didn't feel pain or any different than normal aside from the swirling vortex of emotions. Giving a silent nod to the man holding her he seemed satisfied and whisked her away from the group and she felt her skin prickle. Not only was this improper on so many levels being held by a complete stranger was mortifying and thinking of all the terrible things that could happen...

For the first time in her life Fox actually felt like she could faint from shock. Still that was spineless so she remained clammed up, keeping her precarious perch as she glanced behind her warily at the other women. It wasn't until the golden haired man spoke again did Fox direct her gaze to him and his charming smile. He smelt like the sea...Cake? Well that took the icing. First, she's kidnapped, examined like a piece of meat by men who thought they were demons, chosen without her consent by some whack job and now asked if she liked cake! The irritation bubbling under her silent and icy demeanor was brimming over. "No, I dislike sweets," she snapped haughtily; but cataloged away what he mentioned. Brothers. Well other than the three with red eyes, the man who held her dis-included, none of them looked alike at all. Except, once again with her captor, they all had pale skin and dark coloring. Her captor truly seemed the odd ball out with his looks and the way he acted.

Carefree, aloof, uninterested in the proceedings now that he had his prize. As he stood there holding her, strong arms showing no strain despite having held her for moments now, she slowly returned her gaze to the parlor. Many strange events followed. The first man that had shown himself transformed into a cat, padding over to the sleeping woman and curling up on her chest.


"A man...just turned into a cat."

The thought ran through her mind numbly as she stared on in disbelief. Either she was still under side affects of the drugs or they truly were demons and she got spirited away. Oh dear God, what had she done to anger the heavens? To be forsaken and taken by demons who had such insidious intentions for them. To be used and stained, treated like slaves and made to do acts so carnal she dared not think of them lest she lose what courage she had. Now the other two brothers who had yet to choose were taking their sweet time as they circled the raven haired woman and the sweet younger one who actually looked excited at the prospect of being taken by demons. She was doomed. Fox was never getting out of this alive.




XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

[Eruditus]

xxxxxxx

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The maiden’s retort took him by surprise. She was suddenly thrusted into an unfamiliar setting among unfamiliar, possibly hostile company, and was likely disoriented from this rapid turn of events. Yet she did not hesitate to speak up and voice her annoyance. In addition to this, she kept her widened, gray-eyed gaze trained on him as he circled them with careful, calculated strides. He admired this. Her elegant attire suggested that she must have been abducted while in the middle of a very prestigious formal event. He took notice of the moonstone pendant that rested on her chest as he slowly walked behind her and the one in the pink nightgown. That was when he took notice of the rustic looking book that accompanied Evangeline on her journey. It sat beside her. Probably not the same book he had been reading all day. This was probably a bedtime story. Cute. He considered Gwenevere's retort while Evangeline remained silent.

Charles said nothing and allowed Christian to engage in his mischievous antics and dialogue with the two, as he came full circle and stood in front of the fair maidens once more, turning to face them yet again. It occurred to him that, although there was some fun to be had, this would surely be a smoother process for all if these new circumstances were explained to the girls, and that they were treated in a civil manner, at least for now. They probably weren't used to witnessing shapeshifting, crimson-eyed demons in action. He didn't care in the slightest whether or not they feared him or his brothers, but he at least wanted to explain to them their circumstances so that he could avoid incessant questioning later on. Perhaps it would make them more receptive and restrained as well. He was in no mood to deal with frantic, noisy, bothersome girls.


”There'll be plenty of time for that later, Christian. But look at them," he gestured, casually raising a hand in the direction of the three remaining maidens, including the red haired damsel with a cat on her chest; Up until a moment ago. She quickly rose to her feet, causing Alistair to plummet to the floor. "What is this?," she asked. He found the confusion in her voice quite charming as well. "They're beyond bewildered. Perhaps it's time we explained to them why, and how, they are here," he said, feigning sympathy in his voice and glancing at his two brothers, the archdemon, and the cat. Rather than the harsh, rough and tumble, gravely voice that might be expected due to his pirate-like appearance, his voice was low, smooth and melodic. There was confidence in it, derived from his callousness.

Charles removed his hands from his pockets and stepped forward to greet the three young ladies. He couldn't believe that it fell on him to be the civil one and handle the introductions. He gave a nod of acknowledgement to Ellena and her question before he addressed his captive audience. His voice and demeanor were suddenly warm and inviting. A rare treat.

"Ah yes, well, please. I'm sure you all have many questions. But, in lieu of pouncing upon one another at first glance," Charles began, shooting a glance at his brother Alistair who took that phrase quite literally, "...permit me first to formally introduce myself. Charles De Voir, at your service, mademoiselles." He took an exaggerated bow, before rising to meet the eyes of the young ladies once more. "This," he began again, glancing at Ellena in order to address her line of questioning, "...is the humble, De Voir establishment." He extended his arms wide, inviting his guests to absorb their new surroundings. "And, unless you find your powers of observation... lacking. You've probably figured out by now that these enchanting gentlemen, including our feline friend, are my brothers, the De Voirs." This could not begin to explain the instance of shapeshifting, nor the mention of demons, which probably caught the naive women off guard more than anything, but at least it broke the ice.

It probably did little to calm their nerves or put them at ease in the slightest. Perhaps his brothers or the noble ladies would see fit to interject at this point.

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[Lollilox]

It wasn't long before the last of the girls had come to. His specifically claimed redhead had been the last to rise, however, when she did she gave no thought to the cat that was curled up on her chest.
With one swift movement, she was up, and Alistair the cat had fallen, managing to catch himself before it was too late. Another transformation, and he was a bird, fluttering up to the redhead's shoulder. The red cardinal sat perched happily there, trying very hard to resist having a little birdy 'accident' to teach her a lesson.
Rude. What kind of person didn't give a cute cat the time of day? Regardless of her panic, it could have been a lot worse. He could have just as easily transformed himself into a very, very big spider or a mean looking bear or something along those lines.

Pleasingly enough, however, the transformation itself from man to cat had stunned the other girls, which was good enough for Ali.
He shifted from one bird claw to another, finding a comfortable spot on the redhead's shoulder, waiting for the explanations to be over. Charles had taken over, pussyfooting around the real reason they were there. Leave it to the drab poet to put it elegantly and tread softly around the girls. It really wasn't any wonder why Christian was leagues above them all. At least he told it like it was, without worry for something as stupid as a woman's feelings. Like it or not, even if one - or any of the girls for that matter - wasn't opposed to being locked up in a mansion like a slave, and even if they wanted to be with any of the demons lurking it, they wouldn't want to give their children up to be soldiers in a war, likely to die before their time.
It was a faulty plan before it had even begun, but Lucifer hadn't that foresight. He expected his sons to do as they were told, and making things seem less unpleasant than they actually were, wasn't a good idea.

Ruffling his wings, Ali tweeted at his brother, urging to get on with it and just pick one already. He didn't want to spend any more time sitting around than need be. There was drinking to be done, and lots of it.

By the end of Charles' speech, Ali was growing testy and impatient. He gave another tweet of derision and dove from the girl's shoulder to the floor, transforming back into his human form.
Lacing an arm around the girl's back, he held her to his side with one hand, and pushed the other through his hair, flattening it from the transformation's mess, looking about as bored as ever.
"Cat's out of the bag, Charlie. Get on with it so Cathy can go stuff cakes down this one's throat-" he nodded to the blonde with a smirk, "and I can get back to staring at the bottom of a bottle." As if just remembering the girl at his side, Ali looked to her apologetically. "Of course, I'll share. You're going to want some after you hear the real reason you're here... eh- oh. What was your name again?" He put his eyes on her, before shrugging. Well, he didn't suppose it mattered. He'd learn it eventually. Or maybe he'd give her a new name, just because.

"Point being, we're not humble, we're not gentlemen, and we're demons. And you're all here to be childbearing slaves to us, so that one day you'll pop out a few screaming wigglers and then have to sacrifice them to dear old daddy to be soldiers in an army fighting an age-old war." Ali explained, tone flat and bored until he took a breath. He then gave a charming smile and looked around the group. "So, wine anyone? Let's all drink to being miserable, together. If we play the 'drink every time one of the girls tries to escape or cries' game, we'll all be smashed before long."

[borble]

xxxxxxxxC A T H A O I R X D E V O I Rxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx♔ I know the pieces fit
because I watched them fall away
Mildewed and smoldering
fundamental differing

So she didn’t like cake. That was a damn shame. Cathaoir frowned but shrugged, enjoying the warmth of the girl he held but seeing her discomfort, let her slide down to stand on her own two feet. However, he kept his hand gently resting on the small of her back. A small reminder of who was really in charge here. “Perhaps we have something else you’ll like then. We’re going to be here a while.” He smiled, a rather endearing expression on the large man that belied the beast beneath. He rested back onto his heels, Charles garnering his attention from across the room with brief introductions. Cathaoir remained silent throughout the explanation until his younger brother trailed off, looking for someone to take over. He found that someone in Alistair, who after being displaced from the girl’s stomach as a cat had taken up his space on her shoulder as a bird. He swore even in animal form that man looked irritated ********. Cathaoir didn’t know what there was to be so worked up about. It’s not like he was in any sort of rush. They were going to be stuck in the house for the foreseeable future so why not drag out the games and guesswork of it all.

He sighed when Alistair changed back to his humanistic appearance and spewed out the whole thing in one long winded, bitter explanation. He knew it wasn’t going to go over well so after Alistair had finished the large male spoke up. “I just want to clarify that we don’t have any more of a choice in being here than you do. I frankly didn’t want children and if this had not been asked of me I would not be here.” He mulled over his thoughts, his hands itching for another cigarette but he knew he should wait at least another minute until the hysterics were going to be over. “We can’t leave the building, we couldn’t let you go even if we wanted to, which frankly if I could I would. I’d much rather be back home than here but I live to serve, so here I am.” His brow furrowed, trying to remember if these were things that a normal human man would say in this situation. He wasn’t sure though he figured he was ******** either way. “If you try to escape you will die as the only ones that can come and go are the specters that serve us here. They can bring you most anything if you ask, granted all I’ve asked for as of yet was some strawberry cake but they brought it quickly enough.” He grinned, pushing his weight up off of where he had been leaning on the wall.

He let his hand fall away from the blonde’s waist to shove his hands into his pockets and rock back on his heels. “Basically, we’re all equally ********. Though, I’m up for that drinking game if there’s going to be hysterics anyway. I have a couple bottles of rum stashed. The good s**t imported up from the Mediterranean.” He smiled, glancing down at his blonde. “I know Charles has introduced us as the De Voirs and Ali is throwing around nicknames, but I would prefer Cathaoir, or if you’re going to take a page out of my mother’s and Ali’s book, Cathy.” He raised his eyebrows, obviously amused by the nickname. “I realize, as pointed out by the black haired ice queen, that we haven’t asked your names and frankly, it would be nice to know them.” He lifted his gaze to pass over the other girls, his golden irises settling on Gwenevere with sincere amusement. “I’d like to not have to resort to harsh nicknames if possible.” Honestly, he couldn’t give any less of a s**t about their names but to make this as easy as possible he’d have to play nice. He just wanted to go back up into his room, chain smoke a pack and drink himself into a stupor and then hopefully wake up, hung over, with a face full of sand. “However as you’re going to be quick to learn, Ali is right. We’re not gentlemen and we’re not here to be nice. We are demons, some of us more obvious about it than others,” His focus flickered between Alistair and Charles, “but all demons none the less.” He smiled, a wicked glint in his eye, having finished with his first and hopefully his last speech of their entrapment. “Now, I’m going to get some cake to watch the festivities. I’ll be back.”

He turned, walked straight out of the room, leaving his blonde seeing as he wasn’t too concerned about her running off and headed straight for the kitchen. A few moments later, he returned holding a plate with a fork and a large slice of strawberry cake with the happiest expression he’d worn the whole damn time they’d been trapped. He paused in the door, searching for his blonde before he took up a seat on one of the chairs and patted his free hand on the armrest, inviting her to join him. He didn’t expect her to, but it would be a pleasant surprise if she did. He broke off a piece of his cake with his fork and made himself comfortable, his long legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles.

While he ate he watched the festivities, more curious than anything. His only interaction with humans had been in the past few weeks and before that the only human he knew was his mother. He lived in the sea by himself, occasionally visited by other demons of similar disposition but having legs and trying to get alone with these land bound creatures was new and interesting to him. He especially kept an eye on the young woman he’d chosen, gauging her reactions and trying to determine just how much fun or how much of a migraine she was going to be for the rest of her natural born life. Of course he sincerely hoped for the first but he doubted his father was going to bless them with anyone they might actually get along with. No, they wouldn’t be so lucky. Still, hopefully they didn’t start crying. He didn’t like crying at all, no matter who was doing it. It left a sense of dread in his stomach and he always ended up on edge and snappy as a result which never helped anything. Part of the reason he lived alone with no mate to be found and liked it that way. He broke off another chunk of his cake when he’d finished the first, happy about the strawberry frosting that matched the cake itself. Well, as long as he had his cake and his alcohol, he’d survive even if he had to help spawn little hell beasts.





pure intention juxtaposed
will set two lovers
souls in motion. ♚

[Eruditus]

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Charles allowed his arms to fall to his sides as he politely yielded the floor to his two brothers, who threw in their two cents in succession. In their own way, they put forth their summations of the predicament everyone now found themselves a part of, which he would have perhaps handled slightly differently, but it no longer mattered. They were straightforward and rather blunt with their new guests, but he suspected this was because they appeared to care little about the feelings or opinions of the mortals in their presence. Simply put, the mortals could either acquiesce their new environment, or be killed and promptly replaced. They were doomed regardless, somewhere along the line, if all the brothers carried out their duties accordingly.

Sensing that Alistair, and likely his other brothers also were impatient, for his own amusement, Charles had purposely beat around the bush when introducing himself and his siblings. He anticipated that Alistair or another of his demon brethren would likely express their desire to "get on with it", and Alistair quite casually explained the dire circumstances to the dazed and oblivious young noblewomen, whom Charles doubted could absorb the impact of these revelations in a similarly nonchalant manner. He offered a subtle smirk of approval at Alistair's proposal to, "drink every time one of the girls tries to escape or cry..."

Like Charles, Cathaoir, the oldest brother, sensed that Alistair's blunt explanation would likely be insufficient on its own, and so he offered further clarification. Charles took notice of the concoction of emotions apparent on the faces of their guests, particularly those of the smallest one, wearing the nightgown. She seemed to be torn between sorrow, shock, and fear. When Cathaoir was finished, he departed the room for some cake. Charles was satisfied. Although Cathaoir's words were equally harsh, they were truthful. Sensing that he had little to offer in addition to what had already been stated, He now awaited the reactions of the "childbearing slaves." He watched Evangeline rise and clear her throat.

"I would like to drink now, please."

Charles blinked. He didn't often wish to show his emotions, but could sense his brow had furrowed slightly as a result of this statement. He simply stared at Evangeline, as he considered her request. His eyes fell to the book she now tucked beneath her arm. Something she likely treasured strongly. It reminded him of the book he had been clinging to incessantly, in hours prior. He wondered if his brother Christian desired to procreate with this quirky mortal.

"Well then..." he said aloud to his brothers after a long pause, as if she was a nuisance, though he doubted she would be. She was so small. Moments ago he considered wringing the maiden's necks, including hers, though he felt as if he could just as easily dispatch her with a hateful enough stare if he truly wanted.

His crimson eyes met the contrasting blue of Evangeline's, and he stared her down as he formed his judgement, much like a judge would, about to reveal his verdict to the defendant. Perhaps it was the book that drew him to her, or perhaps her ability to absorb all of this information, and then promptly rise to her feet and make such a bold request. Either way, still staring at the maiden in the nightgown, he stepped forward, closing the distance between them. His arm bent as he extended his hand towards her graciously. "Come with me," he said. His expression was plain; He neither frowned nor smiled, though it was apparent by his unwavering gaze and tone of voice that this was as much an order as a request.


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[HeartlessJEN]

OOC:
Due to editing errors I have some how lost this post while working on my next one, and I can't recover it.
I don't know exactly what happened, I'm an idiot! >.<

I don't think it was a massive lose since nothing really happened in it but you can get the idea from Halin_Princess's post below.
Gwen just sits down on the sofa think things over.

But sorry about that guys! =P

[Halin_Princess]

Christian || L || De Voir

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.........I like to break things...

For once, Christian stayed quiet while his brothers interjected, in a hurry to get the introductions over and done with. His brother Ali, bluntly stated the situation to the woman who, he was sure, were internally losing their minds. His haunting red eyes flickered to each of the women to gauge their reactions most he was utterly pleased with. Widening eyes, struggles to keep composure. Each and every one of the womans reactions thrilled him, except one. His eyes held to the girl in the dark blue dress. Her expression was glorious, far better than the transparent young woman before him. A hard mask of anger and irritation; he liked her already. She had a sharp tongue and a hard exterior. He liked destroying things, especially things that were difficult to break. Oh, when he got her alone... The thought brought a sickening smile to the demons face and he racked his long fingers through his hair with a sigh. Maybe his brothers were right to get the meaningless pleasantries out of the way, although he thoroughly enjoyed having fun with the girls, he had other desires making themselves present.

“If we play the 'drink every time one of the girls tries to escape or cries' game, we'll all be smashed before long."

For the first time since he had come into the parlor Christians smile faded and stiffened a bit at his brothers jovial suggestion. That was one thing he hadn’t considered. He felt an uncomfortable knot settle in his stomach as his mind was flooded with images of a sobbing woman, broken and defeated on her knees. If he despised one thing above all else, it was crying. He quickly forced the thoughts from his mind and brushed past all of the unwanted emotions that came along with them. Instead, he returned his focus to the raven haired maiden who seemed to be having difficulties keeping her strength. No doubt all of this was quite overwhelming. She seemed to be searching inside of herself. Trying to comprehend.

As quickly as Cathy had disappeared, he returned with a plate and sweets. Of course. But, he did make a fair point. Christian didn’t necessarily have a desire to drink, but these girls would definitely need something to ebb their raging emotions. That’s how all woman were, overly emotional, overthinking, all generally unremarkable creatures. They didn’t possess strength like men, wit and charm like men, and certainly not intelligence as men. Lucifer knew exactly what women were, and so did Christian. Nothing but tools and distractions. Charles was the next to pull his attention. Moving toward the childlike lady in pink he extended his hand to her with his blank expression. It seems he had chosen. Christians gaze moved once again to his “black-haired ice queen.” His smile returned as he watched her finally lose even the strength to stand, was all of the feisty energy earlier only a defense? How boring. He would have to think of ways to put her on edge, but that wouldn’t be too difficult.

He closed the distance between them with only two strides of his long legs, gracefully taking a seat next to her. “Looks like you’re the luckiest of the group, love.” He watched as she carefully removed her jewelry, all but the moonstone pendant that dangled delicately from her neck. It was quite lovely and accented her grey eyes. It must hold some significance. “How about a drink for you? I might need one myself after all of this news.” He feigned exhaustion with a dramatic huff of breath and leaned back against the sofa, letting one of his arms drape over her…speaking of which. “What is your name, darling?” his velvet voice coaxed as his fingers laced through her hair, twirling random tresses of her beautiful black hair. “If you like I can call you, love instead. Or woman, or kitten, or other things less appropriate, your choice really.” His smile widened and he used his strength to easily pull her close to his side, letting his fingers trail lightly on the skin of her upper arm. So soft. He wondered if all of her was as pleasant to the touch.

Darling, let me break you...

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[HeartlessJEN]

xxxx

Still feeling unsettled, still feeling uncertain, Gwen restlessly fiddled with the jewellery which she had removed and now placed on her lap. She didn’t think it has truly hit her yet, she was taken from her home to be used as a breeder, giving birth to Satan spawn until her body breaks most likely. Out of all the girls they could of taken, why her? Gwenevere has never given a thought to giving life to another being, let along becoming some form of a mother. She was never in the situation where it was something to consider, she certainly wasn’t expecting to become a baby factory for demons. The thought of the process on which happens in order for all of it to work was enough for her body to heat up. Gwenevere had to stop her mind going any further, the fact that it would be with one of these four males, she just couldn’t think of it, not now. Demon or not none of them were displeasing to the eye, not like she would ever admit to it. Her eyes couldn’t help but scan the room once or twice while she sat alone with her heavy thoughts. She has spent nearly every other night within a crowd of unfamiliar faces, why was she having such a trouble with it now?

Her eyes were on her lap, gazing blankly at the glimmers of silver as she felt someone approach her. Like a deer who heard to sudden faint sound in the distance she looked up, her glare narrowed when she saw it was the demon who mocked her only moments ago. Sharply exhaling through her nose Gwenevere glanced away as the one which the others called ‘Christian’ took a seat next to her. He was already too close, her whole body began to tense up, even more so when he used the word ‘love’ to address her. He was also using the word ‘lucky’ again. Gwen lips twitched in a growing annoyance; even without looking at him she could feel his eyes burning a hole in the back of her head. Why sitting next to her suddenly? Didn’t he say she was too ferocious earlier? He seemed more interested in the nightgown girl just a moment ago. Sudden flash backs of her past encounters with ‘suitable matches’ rushed through her head; it was like the routine was repeating itself all over again. She just wanted to block it all out.

The only reason Gwen’s head slight turned towards the demon was because having a drink was mentioned, she did want, no, needed a proper strong drink, she wouldn’t disagree with him on that term. Gwenevere felt the more formal dressed male lean back on the sofa but her spine and shoulders stiffened once she felt an arm drape itself over her. He asked for her name but she wasn’t paying much attention as she was more aware about where his wondering hand was going. His fingers laced into her dark hair again. He was touching her and it was spending Gwen’s nerves crazy, other than just a quick peck on the hand she hasn’t had a man touch her anymore than that. Piercing eyes finally glanced at the demon dully as he listed a collection of nicknames, just as he did with the nightgown girl. Just before she had a chance to whack away his hand he suddenly pulled her in close, wrapping his arm completely around her. The fingers lightly tracing her upper arm sent wild tingles across her body; heat rose from her core but before anything could reach the surface the woman pushed him away, or all the more likely pushed herself away from him, sitting further to one end of the sofa.

”...Don’t flatter yourself.”

Her exterior was nothing but unamused and stale as Gwen grasped the arm he had draped over her a returned it to him. ”Since I do have a choice in the matter, you will call me none of those. I’m not interested in any of your pathetic pet names.” The Blackwell daughter strongly stated as she shifted herself, increasing the gap between them. Closer to a side table Gwen gently placed the removed jewellery from her lap onto the tabletop. She didn’t care too much for the items if they got damaged or taken by someone else, especially not now. With an arm on the armrest she elegantly rested her chin on the knuckle of her hand. ”But if you are so keen to fetch me a drink, I’ll have a glass of red wine, please.” It didn’t matter how spiteful she might end up being, she wasn’t who forgets her manners. Dully looking at the demon she cocked up an eyebrow, simply waiting for him to fetch what she asked for.



LOCATION: De Voir Mansion - parlor | COMPANY: Everyone | STATUS: Demanding Wine!
OUTFIT: Dress & Necklace
OOC: I'm posting again because I'm bored, plus Gwen didn't really didn't do much in the last post (which I stupidly lost) so this one kind of makes up for it. XP

[H-Huntress L u p a]

- - - - -fσx נ. αyиuя- - -
- - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - - - --Channel the α и g є я swelling inside you
- - - - - - - - - - - --Fighting the boundary 'till you break through
- - - - - - - - - - - --Deep in your s σ u ℓ there's no hesitation
- - - - - - - - - - - -- So make yourself the one they all 「 f є α я 」

This was just getting stranger and stranger; which was putting her already foul mood into over-drive. Still she kept it off her face and reigned in the venomous words she felt herself choking on. No use throwing a fit and getting everything riled up, or worse getting injured. An injury would be catastrophic at this point. Yet as the stranger blond picked her up, carting her to the far side of the room near a door the other men in the room decided to speak up. It was the strangest one, covered in tattoos and piercings that finally started to make things clear as he got around to formally introducing himself, and the other men who despite not looking much alike were brothers. The De Voirs. Fox racked her brain to see if the name was familiar but after seeing the one shape-shift it seemed futile. They truly were demons. Finding her feet on the ground it seemed the man who had chosen her finally sensed that being held was awkward and inappropriate yet he kept contact by settling his large hand on the small of her back. Fox frowned, shifting slightly at the alien touch but held herself. The man who had picked her seemed laid back, even a bit out of touch with human socialization, but she sensed a almost...feral current under that lax attitude.

He was dangerous. Any false move and he could go from sweet to abusive. It was almost all to much to take in. "I'm sure you do," Fox replied to the comment and smile with small frown, glancing away from the grin that for better lack of words was kind of endearing. She pressed her fingertips to her temple as if to stave off the coming headache as she tried to wrap her mind around what was being said. The three other women and herself had been stolen by demons. The shape shifting ma- demon, seemed to have been agitated as he changed back to a ....human resemblance. Fox refused to think of them as men, men were human, these...these were demons. Male but demons. As soon as the shape shifted gained two legs once more, wrapping an possessive arm around the red-head he made a comment about Cathy and herself. Glaring at him Fox actually had to bite her tongue from letting out a hysterical giggle. Cathy!? Once she felt that her glare had made the point she cut her gaze up to the blond next to her raising a brow. The offer of a hard drink made for what they were about to hear would help lessen the impact Fox felt an uneasiness well up inside her.

There could only be a few reasons why these demons had rounded up a bunch of noble women, and Fox doubted it was for them to be maids. Sure enough the demon went on to explain they were childbearing slaves, going to be forced to sleep with the demon who chose them and bear their children. It was absurd! Why use human women? Didn't demons have their own women they could use for this purpose and what age old war? Between the Heavens? If the father they were speaking of was whom she was assuming the children they would rear would be used to attack the Lord himself! If being bedded by men that were not their lawfully made husbands didn't condemn them all to Hell surely raising soldiers would! Fox felt light headed for a moment, the offer of wine tempting as she fought to regain her bearings.

It was then the man beside her piped up telling them he would have no part of this at all if he had a choice which was startling. It appeared now, that she glanced around, none of the demons looked all that thrilled. They were irritated and stoic in their own ways. Being told that leaving the mansion meant certain death put a bit of a damper on her budding escape plan but Fox was not about to be dissuaded. She would find a way come life or limb; if it killed her; she'd sooner die than bear a demon's child. Her captor released her waist suddenly, allowing her to take a step or two away from him as he continued to speak. She had a feeling they were all going to be drunk by the end of this and frankly it didn't sound as sinful as first presumed. Cathaoir...ahh Cathy. She preferred his first name and after rolling it around on her tongue a moment stashed it in her memory. As the talk turned to their own names, Fox remained silent for a moment amazed at herself and at the other women who seemed to be coping with this better than suspected. Sure, tears and hysterics would be quick to come but at the moment the shock blocked everything out.

Despite how ungentlemanly they claimed to be the demons were being rather courteous, offering refreshments to ease their nerves and no harm had come to any of them as of yet. Maybe the lack of interest in taking on such an arduous task had left them in a stupor. Cathaoir announced he was off to the kitchens for cake, a snack for the entertainment, and left her standing there as he left. Did she follow him? He made no gesture for her to nor was he turning around to give an expectant look and frankly Fox had no interest in what he was doing. If any of the demons thought she would comply to this madness willingly they'd have the hysterics they were expecting. Sighing she scooted closer to the wall and turned silent eyes upon the others as they settled in. The ice queen went to the couch, removing her jewelry as her demon followed and the young one in the night gown's previous enchantment had finally given away to despair and requested a drink. Garnering the attention of the demon who she was left to. it was almost to surreal.

When she pictured getting kidnapped by demons she thought of heavy chains, pain and dungeons. Not a nice sitting parlor being offered cake and wine. It almost made it impossible to throw a fit though the lingering comment of them being child bearing slaves ate away at her. She had never given a thought to a husband and children despite her age. Commonly she'd have been wedded for a few years already with toddlers to fill her days with but her family's business had been ultimately left to her mother and herself; and her mother had no mind for business. Relatives had urged her to marry but until she was comfortable and had regained back their fortune she had been putting it off. Now she was expected to live her life in this mansion to raise her children as soldiers? As Cathaoir returned with his cake he sat himself in a chair, patting the arm for her to come sit on. Ruffled she frowned once more and hesitated a moment but then she found her feet walking to his side. Might as well play nice for now; going along with her plan to learn as much as she could to plan escape.

Sighing she perched herself on the arm, watching him for a moment and wondered if their minds could be changed. None of them wanted this anymore than the women did or so it appeared. Why didn't the protest such a harebrained scheme? "Not going to offer me a drink," she asked the blond cattily with a small smirk as she watched his fork dismantle the cake. She might be pushing her luck but she was never the gentle nor subtle type. "My name is Fox by the way. Fox Anyur," she added before anyone got the bright idea to give her some odd nickname like the Ice Queen's demon was suggesting. She watched the other women closely wondering how they were taking all this. Other than the Ice Queen looking more mad than upset and the youngest looking shocked the red head just seemed confused. Fox was simply bidding time, hiding her fury under a sly mask. She was never one to get hot-headed, having more of a frosty and indifferent attitude. She learned quickly in life blowing up and throwing a tantrum got her no where.

"I may be speaking out of turn but it appears none of you want to take on human women to give birth of children for this...war, you mentioned. Why not use women of your own race? Or just telling your father no," she asked, not only to Cathaoir but addressing the other demons as well. Didn't sons have more sway over their fathers? "This just seems to absurd," she added, flicking her hair back as a hand came to sweep it over one shoulder.

OOC: Sorry if I missed anything, wrote this on the fly in like ten, fifteenish minutes before work xD;;




XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

[Halin_Princess]

Christian || L || De Voir

╔═════════════════════════════════╗

.........I like to break things...

Christians eyes never left her, not even for a moment, analyzing and taking in her every reaction. She was fascinating, and intoxicating as her face hardened once more, her eyes locking with his to indicate her displeasure with the pet names he had listed. When she put her hands on him to push away, he felt electricity surge through him, taking him completely by surprise and allowing her to get free from his hold. His eyes widened a bit as she continued to get as far away from him as was possible on the small couch, picking up his arm and placing it in his lap. Whoever this little mortal was, Christian was glad that she was his. Thinking about it, he wasn’t as opposed to his new assignment as he was previous. This fiery girl with grey eyes and a raven hair had captured his curiosity. “I have no need to flatter myself, darling.” He smiled wickedly at her, his eyes running up and down her as if she were a delicious meal that he intended upon devouring. “Your fluttering heartbeat is flattery enough.” The demon had always loved listening to the thudding of the human heart. It gave away so much and no matter how hard one tries they can never control it. This was a tool he used over and over the past few years as he led numerous souls into damnation.

The nameless beauty who now sat at the far end of the couch made her next comment, which in itself was harmless, polite even. But what followed made him twitch inside with a flicker of annoyance. The raising of her eyebrow, a sign of expectancy. Yes, she was beautiful and she did intrigue him, but she obviously did not understand who it was she was speaking to. She was the one who answered to him. She was the one who would be fetching him wine. She was the slave to his desires and the way she simply raised that eyebrow made his palm twitch. He wanted so badly to take her over his knee and spank her like a child in front of everyone. Then, she might understand her place. The though was more pleasing than annoying. He enjoyed dominance and control, and enjoyed getting it in various different ways.

Instead of giving in to his desires he slid over to his lovely female, almost pinning her between the arm rest of the chair and himself. Leaning in close he brushed his lips against her ear before inhaling her luscious scent, she truly was delicious. His velvet voice was quite, a whisper so only she could hear him. “Since it is your first few minutes here I will let it slide, but next time you make a gesture like that I will take you across my knee and spank you in front of everyone.” He planted a small kiss beneath her ear before rising from the sofa and leaving the room to fetch some wine and a few glasses. He soon returned with a bottle of perfectly aged red wine and enough glasses for everyone in the room to partake if they so wished. The demon poured only two glasses, handing one to his still nameless lovely and one for himself. “Here you are, love. You know, I would much prefer to call you by your name. If I have to drag it out of you later I’m not so sure you would appreciate my methods.” Taking a sip of his wine he took his seat next to her, leaving a few inches between them, but letting his arm rest on the back of the sofa.

Darling, let me break you...

╚════════════════════════════════════════════╝

[borble]

xxxxxxxxC A T H A O I R X D E V O I Rxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx♔ I know the pieces fit
because I watched them fall away
Mildewed and smoldering
fundamental differing

Cathaoir smiled when his blonde took up a seat beside him and he kept nibbling at his cake while his brother picked on the ice queen on the couch. Still, when she finally gave her name he laughed. “Fox. It suits you.” He raised an eyebrow though at her request, laughter in his eyes. “I wasn’t aware you wanted one.” He stood, his full height towering over her while he set his cake down on an end table and vanished from the room, only to return with his hand clutched the neck of a large bottle of rum. He set it down, pouring a glass of rum for himself and a glass of the red wine Christian had brought, handing the wine to his blonde and taking the rum for himself, and his cake, before reclaiming his seat. Everyone said they wanted to drink, so they would drink. He raised his glass and grinned with a cheerful “hyvää ruokahalua,” in his native tongue before taking a sip and going back to his cake. The rum burned the back of his throat and warmed his chest. He watched Fox out of the corner of his eye as he listened to the conversation around the room, to see how she handled the liquor.

Though, her complaint and following questions made him laugh. A deep, throaty sound followed up with a grin. “I have asked myself these same questions. The only reason that I can come up with is that our father enjoys suffering of all kinds. If he can kill two birds with one stone, then why not?” He nibbled at his cake some more, scrapping up the last of the icing on his fork and savoring it before trading his plate for his glass, holding it in his hand and swirling the beverage inside. “One doesn’t just tell our father No. I’m here because I enjoy living, and once he’s made a request of you and you want to keep on living, you oblige.” He looked up at her, all scraps of amusement gone from his face. “Also, I suggest you keep the criticisms of our father to a minimum. There are some of us here who hold more love for him than others that might not take as kindly to it if you speak out of turn.” He turned his gaze on Christian, a slight frown overtaking his expression. “As a result of all our very different upbringings, I’m sure.”

Cathaoir held little to no respect for Christian. His brother spent his days toiling away for their father below like a petite little lap dog and he still ended up here with the rest of them. He couldn’t for the life of him tell what Charles and Alistair had been doing for all these years but Christian he could read like a book. “So tell me Fox, where are you from? We were told nothing about who they were choosing, just that four would be arriving.” He rested back in his chair, lifting the glass to his lips, enjoying his drink. “I personally hail from the north coast of Finland. I spend most days in the sea, though my land home is just on the coast. It’s quite a change from that to this, though I’m sure you’re used to much grander things.” He smiled, taking another mouthful of rum while his gaze wandered over the other girls. He worried for the small one being left with Charles. It was part of the reason he opted to bring the bottle out himself versus letting him drag her away so quickly. They needed these women to last, and he wasn’t sure being left alone so quickly with his tattooed younger brother wasn’t going to do much for her life span.

In the time he’d lived in close quarters with his brothers, albeit a short time, he’d come to realize a few things about them, and not all of them pleasing. For that reason he watched them, and watched their chosen carefully. It wasn’t that he cared particularly about their women, but he knew that their actions had the potential to reflect badly on himself, and thus help shape his future or in an extreme case, eradicate it all together. Irritation with his situation was starting to work it’s way up through his bones to his skin and he immediately reached for a cigarette and lit it up, pulling out a long drag and exhaling in a huff. He held the smoking cigarette in the hand opposite to the arm where Fox sat. He rolled his own cigarettes, as premade ones were expensive and difficult to come by. Plus, it helped him focus and calm himself when his snacks and alcohol failed him. It was something to do with his hands that kept his mind on track and that in itself was a blessing. He had papers and raw dried tobacco in a bag tucked away in a cabinet up in his personal room.

Cathaoir was not used to parlor rooms and pleasant conversation and he was already itching to be out of the clothes that had been deemed necessary for this endeavor. He craved the sea and the rum in his glass did nothing to calm that need. The building as a whole was suffocating and the idea that he would have to spend the rest of his life there, siring warriors for their father was maddening. He was suffering as the women were, but for different reasons. He had the pool but it was false, a gimmick, a mockery of the ocean he loved. He had a feeling that by the end of the night he would end up in that pool, as he had almost every night he’d been there. Often he fell asleep there in the water before some specter woke him, suggesting rather gently that he might prefer the bed that had put for him in the room he had chosen. In response he demanded a bottle of rum and sat in that pool for hours, staring at the glass ceiling that was so warped one couldn’t see through it. Truthfully the glassmaker who had made such a large piece was impressive, but Cathaoir wished deeply for something clearer so that he could see the sky.

Realizing he’d gotten lost in his own thoughts, Cathaoir reached out and trailed his fingers down Fox’s spine, inspecting the fabric of her dress as he did. He knew she didn’t like him, and he didn’t expect her too but still, she didn’t seem as disgusted with him as the Ice Queen was with Christian so he took comfort in that. Though, she did appear to think they were stupid, so there was that. “Enjoying your drink, rakas?” He slipped back and forth between Finnish and the French he had taken the time to learn at his mother’s request. That woman was the only reason that he had even agreed to come. He had originally contemplated letting Lucifer just smite him for disobedience but his mother had requested he obey and now here he was, sitting in a parlor room his hand resting on the skin of a human woman drinking rum out of a wine glass. How the mighty had fallen.







pure intention juxtaposed
will set two lovers
souls in motion. ♚

[Eruditus]

xxxxxxx

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Sensing hesitation from his meek, strikingly blue-eyed guest, the demon retracted his ornately tattooed hand. He did not take kindly to being defied, but understood that she had only just arrived to this unfamiliar realm, and was apprehensive about the situation, so much so that she would prefer not budge or move another muscle. The telltale signs of her trepidation were evident. Biting of the lower lip. Averting her eyes. Looking around the room. He pictured her as an adorably frightened rabbit, now helplessly cornered by himself, the wolf. Luckily for her, he wasn't particularly hungry at the moment. Even if he was, he was the type to play with his food first, and then eat it.

"Evangeline Bell," he repeated, his unrelenting gaze penetrating deep into her soul as he carefully pronounced each syllable. "That's a lovely name," he said politely. His manner of speech was slow and sincere. There even seemed to be a subtle yet detectable hint of warmth in the way he spoke to her, though perhaps it was fabricated. A small smile crossed his pierced lips. Whether the effect of this was more reassuring or frightening to his guest, he could only guess. He realized that the color of his irises was more than likely unsettling to her, in contrast with the familiar greens, browns, and blues of most mortals.

Charles overheard the one named Fox voice her skepticism, to which Cathy gave a swift retort; Most of which Charles agreed with. As he was finishing addressing the question that Fox posed to the whole room, Charles turned his attention back to Evangeline.

"Evie," he began, as if the nickname came to him naturally. "May I call you that?", he asked, speaking softly to her with his silken voice. Though she was not at all what he had been expecting regarding appearances, he found her equally as beautiful as any of the other maidens that Lucifer had tossed into this lion's den of demons. Something about her was charming, but he could not put his finger on it. Yet.

He took a step closer to her, until they were little more than an arms length away, in order to tune out the branching conversations of his boisterous brethren, looming over their chosen victims. He gestured when he spoke.

"I know you must still feel rather confused. You see, you've only just arrived here, to this place you don't know... by means you're unaware of, for reasons you can't quite comprehend... But we've been waiting here for quite some time.", he explained, pausing for a moment to look around the room, before looking back to Evangeline. "So, pardon my brothers when they open their mouths. They know not what they do, you might say," Charles said, playfully referencing Christ's famous words during his crucifixion. "We're really not as scary as we appear," he consoled. Whether or not she would believe him, he was unsure. "Though we are certainly as ill-mannered, I'm afraid," he continued. He hoped this humorous aside would win her favor.

"You have questions. But first, I'll get you that drink you wanted. Then you can ask," he told her, as he stepped aside to pour two glasses of wine which Christian had graciously fetched for everyone to enjoy. What better way to celebrate such a momentous and merry occasion. Quickly he returned, holding his chalice of choice loosely to his side, while with his other hand he slowly reached forward to offer a half-full wine glass to Evangeline. She was petite indeed, so a little bit of wine could go a long way.

◂ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ▸

[H-Huntress L u p a]

- - - - -fσx נ. αyиuя- - -
- - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - - - --Channel the α и g є я swelling inside you
- - - - - - - - - - - --Fighting the boundary 'till you break through
- - - - - - - - - - - --Deep in your s σ u ℓ there's no hesitation
- - - - - - - - - - - -- So make yourself the one they all 「 f є α я 」

It seemed she was was graced, having been chosen by this particular demon. Her remarks and flagrant disobedience (as a slave and as a woman) were disregarded. How long that would last was the pending question now. As Cathaoir commented on her name the blonde was a bit startled since most found her name too strange; to have found someone who said that it fit her brought back memories of her grandfather. He had named her out of spite but when she was younger he often commented he had been guided by the Lord's hand when he chose her name. For it fit her perfectly. Fox had shown the cunning and patience of the creature she was named after often along with the cut throat attitude that made them dangerous. Her father had been a worthless man, even as a child Fox knew that, and she often ignored his commands which would have brought shame but Fox's grandfather would only chuckle and smugly smile. When her grandfather died and her father ran off Fox was the only capable woman in the house and thus took over her own fate. She might have been more level headed, able to deal with problem most women would faint over or have their husbands handle, but it was also her downfall. Most men did not see women as their equals and Fox was more of a man than her gentle gender. As Cathaoir had gotten up and fetched them drinks Fox remained perched on the side of the arm chair. It was a bit uncomfortable but better than sitting at his feet and the implications that would ensue.

Being handed a glass of wine, Fox lifted a delicate hand to claim it, and as Cathaoir took his seat she eyed the bottle of rum he poured his drink from. Seemed he was going to keep the good stuff for himself. Gray flecked blue eyes returned to her glass and as she held it up Fox belatedly realized she was toasting his cheer. Said in words she felt she knew. Instead she was looking for the trace of powder on the rim or fizz of poison or drug. She supposed them poisoning her would be a blessing though she didn't quite trust that the demon's wouldn't try to sedate them to make them easier to handle. After a moment of inspecting her glass Fox took a sip and shivered at the extraordinary taste. At least they had class, that was something she would have never thought of demons. Still picturing the fiery pits, dark caves and brute, barbarian nature.

However, as Fox voiced her concerns, concerns of all the women she was sure, only Cathaoir answered her. Or had the chance to at least and quite plainly in fact. She had been expecting run arounds and false promises that none of this would be as bad as she assumed. None of them wanted to do this, to spend their lives together, but to survive they had too. The women were just collateral. The enjoyment of their suffering just an added bonus to what their Father was doing to them. Fox's near permanent frown turned to a grimace and she took a long draught from the wine. The tart sweetness and dry burn sluicing down her throat was welcomed as misery burned a hole through the rest of her. As her captor continued to speak about orders and the longevity of lives kept for following those orders Fox scoffed. Didn't really seem to be worth living if they were trapped in this mansion forever. Even when the other women and herself died, she could see Lucifer bringing more mortal women into the mansion. This was purgatory. As Cathaoir turned to look at her Fox swallowed the retort in her mouth once she saw he wasn't the lax fool she had been dealing with since awakening. The planes of his handsome face had hardened, telling her she had stepped over a line with her bold criticisms. The blonde wasn't sure how she angered him, for Cathaoir seemed to have no love for his father, though as she followed his gaze to the couch where one of his brothers and the Ice Queen sat, she felt it wasn't so much of a warning that he'd harm her but that demon would. Fox wouldn't put it past her own captor though should she get ahead of herself.

As Fox turned her gaze back she found Cathaior frowning as well, almost looking troubled as he watched his brother's interact with the other women. Whom upon first glance and gauging of how useful they would be, Fox hadn't really paid much mind to. As she felt the chair settle with pressure she looked back to the demon beside her. The cake was gone already, and in it's place a glass of rum and questions about herself. Fox loathed to share anything with these demons but as if sensing that he so courteously revealed his own homeland. Which was rather close to her own! Gazing at him silently for a few moments Fox sighed. "Vastmanland, in the city of Stockholm. I wondered if I recognized your accent...the Baltic sea separates our homelands. I also lived on the coast," she added then pondered how he spent all his time in the sea. Wasn't the correct term "on the sea"? Curiosity reared its ugly head and Fox quickly tamped it out, deciding she wasn't going to delve to deeply. She wasn't afraid of becoming attached but it was always better to be safe than sorry. Already she caught herself speaking in past tense, "also lived" instead of saying "I also live". French was hard enough to speak since she hadn't had much use for it but to already be influenced enough to speak such words!

Stifling another sigh the blond let her gaze wander once more, seeing as she wasn't keeping his brilliant eyes on her form either, and watched. Watched and listened and remembered. True enough each demon was vastly different from the other. Her own seemed to be the most relaxed, more lenient and inclined to just sit back and let things unfold. Where as the others were more over-bearing and tempered. The one on the couch, she hadn't caught his name if he had spoken it, was harassing the poor raven haired lass, where as as the shape shifter was standing still. Observing as the red-head caught her bearings. She stood a bit awkwardly and had taken the longest to wake up. The magic or whatever spell they had used on them seemed to be affecting her more acutely. Then, the other girl, the youngest Evangeline, seemed to be paired with the most dangerous seeming demon. Other than Cathaior, he spoke the clearest but for all his sweet words and gentle tone she sensed something violent and uncontrollable lurked. Cathaior just seemed untamed, like he lived his life doing what he pleased and away from others, Charles just seemed...insane. Normally she wouldn't trust such conclusions of people with so little interaction but Fox was going with her instincts in this case.

The scent of fresh burning acidic smoke caught her attention, dragging Fox out of her observations as she turned to Cathaior once more. She disliked keeping her attention away from him to long. Catching him smoking she noticed he seemed agitated as he shifted around in the chair; every little movement sending vibrations that she felt. Like a child suffering from sitting still to long, their anxiety to get up and play to much to harness. She was much like him when she was young. Her family had always boxed her ears for fidgeting during Mass or formal dinners when she was made to sit, pretty and silent, for hours. Once again she came to the conclusion he wasn't use to interacting with others nor being made to follow orders. Yet he did and some how she admired that even if she hated him. One could always admire and learn from their enemies. It was something her grandfather taught her, never let hate cloud your vision, think with your head, not your heart. His advice had gotten her through everything in life and she would need it to survive this ordeal. She just could not swallow the fact she had been kidnapped and given to a son of Lucifer to bear children. Children to be raised as soldiers. What mother would want that and even as demons how could they ask that of them? "Because they are demons," she answered herself bitterly, taking another drink when she nearly choked.

Startled to feel fingers sweeping down her spine, she jerked, thankfully not hard enough to spill the wine on her light dress but enough to be felt. It had tickled, the feathering of fingertips was foreign to her, to use to the rough, hurried hands of maids. Flushing furiously she cut a nasty glare at Cathaior who seemed unphased as he examined the material of her dress. It hadn't been anything sensual, or so Fox guessed, but he certainly had no etiquette or either didn't care if he did. Her dress was a soft velvet, an obvious show of her class, but it was simple. Neither damask or silk for it was a simple day dress. As he asked her about the drink Fox settled her ruffled feathers. "Sen suunnilleen ainoa asia on hienoa seurata," she replied sweetly in Finnish, as if mocking him, and stood so she could set the glass down. Cathaoir could have asked merely out of interest but now she question the drink. Brushing her fingers down her side to smooth the wrinkles she happened to look up and catch the Ice Queen's gaze. She looked terrible there, forced to sit by her captor who was being far to liberal with her in the company of others.

Pity surged in her but having watched the other two women, the raven haired one seemed like the best one to plan escape with. They needed to get out of this parlor and away from the company of prying eyes to do so. Once she was certain the raven haired woman was paying attention Fox subtly nodded to the door, an age old tactic used at dinners and balls by ladies who needed a break or trip to the powder room without alerting everyone of their needs. Turning back to Cathaior she switched back to french. "Excuse me for a moment, I'll have a servant show me to the powder room," she replied as she took a few steps back and crossed the room close to the couch. Holding her arm out she offered it to the raven. "Care to accompany me," she asked, raising a subtle brow. If the raven refused Fox was fine with leaving herself and hunting down a way out or at least inspecting the mansion until she was caught.


*Sen suunnilleen ainoa asia on hienoa seurata - Its about the only thing I'm enjoying.



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