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The twins watched the back and forth argument between the for-sale slaves with waning amusement. If they were going to insist on being childish, the twins thought it might simply be better to leave them alone entirely. However, they were still interesting to watch, for the time being. Most of the little creatures being held in the area were either asleep or keeping their smart mouths sealed tightly.

"I suggest," they began in unison, facing the kitsune, "That you not make any further suggestions, lest we be tempted to break your neck," Absinthe paused here, "Stick our hands down you beheaded throat and rip," whereas Nephthysia stopped here and Absinthe carried on without skipping a beat, "A good number of internal organs out to feed to your little human-love."

As Absinthe finished the threat, Nephthysia's eyes wandered to the human. She certainly seemed abnormal, as humans went. Unphased by either the twins or Doran's presences, with a sharper tongue than most would manage, and with hair of such a strange shade for a homo sapien. Still, she was youthful, childish. Absinthe followed his sister's gaze, but quickly drew away from the violet-haired girl. As far as he as concerned, humans were no longer worth the effort. Fragile little things to be put on a shelf and left untouched, and what good would that be?

Both sets of wings-- Absinthe's four black ones and Nephthysia's two dust-pale pairs-- fluttered softly and a few soft feathers fell to the ground: a sign of indecision on the twins parts. To move on to more viable prey, or stay and watch the two further, interjecting when it suited them? It was a conundrum at best.

Finally, Nephthysia lifted her head from her brother's nearer shoulder, though her arm stayed draped about the opposite one, and Absinthe's own neck straightened. They would watch, for now, if only because nothing else was happening. Neither was likely to admit to wanting to watch more of this strange inter-slave relation. They had, after all, never been buying before. They had never seen slaves in their 'natural' habitat.

Twin smiles graced their faces. This was what was too be expected of a black ribbon, in their opinions. A hatred and distaste for those who wanted to buy them. Their voices were silent, but both mouthed the word. "Perfect." The firey little redhead had potential, not to mention he was pretty. Almost beautiful, though both twins sensed that he'd bite their tongue out if they ever called him that. They made mental notes to try it some time.

"We can most safely assure you that you'd have quite the hard time trying that, little foxlet. We are not the weakest you'll ever meet, and we keep our pets by force, not favor. But of course," a hint of wicked glee dripped into their simulaeneous words, "If you'd like to try, we would be most pleased to show you the viciousness that can dwell in an angel's heart."

They refrained from mentioning their strange lineage unless it seemed as though it would make an impact. Let them think what they will. That was the twins' motto. They needn't ensure the fact that they were, in fact, of angelic heritage unless it would have the proper effect.

The wicked twin smiles lit up their eyes too as they dwelled on the sickening reactions their parents would have, if they knew what had happened to their last 'pets.' Their parents had always believed the twins did keep slaves by favor; that the youthful angels were rescuing slaves from the life of torture that they had been faced with in captivity, rather than sentencing them to hell; that their vicious deaths had been caused by demons gone awry, as so often happened in a home of angels. When the twins had removed themselves from their parents' abode at the age of sixteen, then the games had really begun.

Twins, after all, defied the laws of heaven-hell heritage. Twin hell-spawn were often benevolent. Twin angels? Malevolent.

||Argh, writers block! stressed ||

"NO NEVER! I WON'T ALLOW IT!" Avio awoke to himself screaming. "Th-that dream...Why does...it keep returning to me?" he asked himself, sweat water-falling down his face as he breathed in large gulps. This was not the first time, nor the last time by what he could predict, that these nighmares will come to him while he sleeps. Every time he would end up engulfed in the orange fire that does not only kill him, leaving him but in charred flesh, but also his it defeats his soul. The most precious thing that he has always had with him would become nothing, absolutely nothing, and that was his worst fear of all.



Avio couldn't hardly believe that he was actually going forth on his hunch about his dreams, but he had guessed it better than the fate that would await him. He had wanted to appease t he god or gods that would no doubtably strike him down with the flames of the heavens if he did not go with what his dream had foretold him. "I...no...wait yes! I must go through with this, not matter what my feeling is on the inside about this whole thing. I've gone too far in my life as it is to die like that," Avio voices to himself as he approaches the front doors to the mansion. Those dreams that he had been having were beginning to turn him towards the paths of insanity, and he did not want that to happen. He would have to find someone here who would accept him and who would listen to him, maybe not as orders, but as something else. Something a bit deeper perhaps? He did not know as of yet what exactly the dream was telling him, but with his best judgements he could see that he would need to pass his thoughts onto a 'successor' of sorts, as well as the experiences that he has gained over the years. Because he has been actively involved in so many of the skirmishes that have resulted during the past wars, he has seen perhaps the most horrifying of sights and has suffered more than most people would over a lifetime because of it. He has suffered so much, in fact, that his eyes no longer have any sort of resonance in them. They are but blank and useless, an empty pit that devours all light. It took nothing but a dream to set him off towards the borderlands of insanity.

"Well, here goes everything." Gently pushing the front doors to the mansion in, which was suprisingly easy for the massive size of the thing, Avio quietly stepped inward and closed it behind him. "Well, an old comrade of mine said that this would be the ideal place for such 'transactions'. I'm not exactly sure what to expect here, but I guess I should continue down this pathway untill I reach...What was it again? Oh right. It was an undecorated door with a sign posted on it. What were the words exactly...?" he thought to himself for a moment, not wanting to jump headfirst into a wasps' nest. He couldn't recollect what the words were supposed to say exactly, but what he could remember his comrade saying is that they "Were a bit cryptic for most people, though if you know the history of the place it wouldn't be cryptic at all."

"Let's see...there were types of colored ribbons that are magically attached to each of the slaves, indicating both their personality and what they would prefer to do." Avio said to himself while walking along a dimly-lit corridor. His low-pitched voice echoed easily off of the walls and back to him, making it sound like there were many different Avios. "Ah yes, I remember a few of the colors. Black would be a rebellious type, whilst white would be a more submissive type. Green would be that they would be interestind in comradery, while yellow would mean a fighter. Orange would be they were for pleasure, and red meant something along the lines of 'housework'? I don't know how Charles knew about all this, but I guess it's alright, since he always was a bit of a perv. Ah, here's the door!" Avio reached the sullen door that looked rather plain compared to the rest of the mansion. There was no handle to be seen and the door, was it floating? It seemed to be like that, but Avio pushed on it reguardless of what he had thought about it. It moved without much of a resistance at all.

"Wh-wha?" he thought aloud. He had never seen such a sight before. There were cells like you'd find in a prison with so many different kinds of races of each sex. Some human, some neko, kitsune; others more reptile-like. There were those peculiar ribbons on them, of all of the colors and in the elegance of a silky wave. These creatures were mostly too asleep or were busy doing their own little things to notice Avio's silent walk. He had used to be an expert at sneaking around during an operation, so it was just natural for him to keep a steady, yet silent pace. He had heard some talking ahead of him, so he stopped where he was and leaned his back up against a pillar between cells. "I wonder what's going on here?" he thought to himself, listening intentively upon the conversation not ten feet from him.

((This will possably be my longest post. I usually have a nice, strong beginning part and then it'll subside a bit later.))

The twins simultaeneously raised their eyebrows at the kitsune's outburst, and though they wanted the goad him further, the human's attempts, futile or no, had proven that the cages were not as structurally sound as they should have been. True, most magic was blocked from within, and obvious physical defenses often removed but brute force may be enough, it seemed.

Then again, surely such a youthful creature wouldn't have the strength to break the aged marble? And yet, if the human could manage well enough, a fox-demon would surely be able to at least crack something.

'Twas not that the twins feared the little redhead's wrath so much as they feared having to pay for a broken cell. They weren't sure whether there was some sort of insurance in the mansion that would keep the bill from falling on their shoulders, but they didn't plan to find out.

"My, my, sweet Doran," Nephthysia began, her voice a semblance of calming as she stared unblinkingly at him. Defiant of the laws that clamped their brethen though they were, the twins were still angels, they still had the tricks.

"We mean not any insult by-" Absinthe's own eyes too peered into the cell, as if trying to pierce the redhead's flesh with nothing but a gaze.

"Our mischosen words. It is only habit-"

"That leads us to call near all things small."

"Such is the curse of height." Their words were heavy, laden down with soft, downy undertones all to similar to the cloying silence of ones head being pressed between two think feather pillows. Though how words can imitate the effects of silence cannot truly be determined, it was the core of their innant ability to hypnotise. It had been ages since they had been against a demon-kin rather than a human with their hypnotics, and likely they were far too out of practice to do much, but certainly the words would speed Doran's calming process.

Their final words were synchronised. "Of course, foxlet, if you would prefer, we would most oblige to call you what you wish. Forget not that you never supplied us a name, but rather that the violet-hued human gave us your identity." Within their minds they silently added, After all, one should always know the proper name of something you wish to purchase. It would be silly to leave uninformed.

Doran glared at Nephthysia as she spoke, then his gaze shifted to her brother. Those stares unnereved him and he found himself pulling away from the bars slightly. He was only half kitsune after all. The boy tried to resist, tried to find a way to remain angry, but they presented nothing he could use to help his cause.

The fires of his rage were slowly smothered by the twins' cursed voices and snuffed out like a flame deprived of oxygen. He stood, silently glaring, his knuckles white as he tightly gripped the bars in frustration. He hated the pet names they gave him and unknowingly acted upon the subtle suggestion they provided. Doran never delt with hypnotists before and had nothing but his inate defenses to protect him.

"My name is De-" Doran paused from the shock of almost revealing his true name and quickly continued, "Doran. Refer to me as anything else and, gods help me, I'll slit your throats." His true name was Deoradhan, a Gaelic name that 'Doran' was derived from meaning exile or wanderer. Doran's emerald eyes showed his confusion as he wondered what on earth had bewitched him to almost say his real name. He knew that it was potentially dangerous for him and Doran didn't want these twins to know.

Once again, his frustration and anxiety set in. Doran retreated to his cot without a backwards glance at the twins and settled down on his side with his back to them, content to let the other slaves entertain

Curiosity killed the cat, they say, though what about those who weren't of feline ancestry? It was rather easy to tell that Ione Wizel was newcomer to the world of slave trading, with her curious peeks into the different stalls and soft yelps whenever particularly fierce captives rattled at their bars threateningly. In all honesty, Ione found the whole concept enchanting, as if the slaves were actually rare and magnificent treasures that she'd finally get to see. Her father had often talked about purchasing a slave, due to the various chores that could be done around the house as well as for her own need of company, but the girl had never expected that she'd be the one to go pick one out. 'A learning experience,' her dear father had called it, though she wasn't quite sure what knowledge she'd be gaining. Ah, but it wasn't her place to question her elders, therefore did as she was requested.

The eighteen year old tightened the white bandana she wore, tugging lightly on the bow as she peered wondrously at the abundance of slaves. Truth be told, the stunning assortment of ribbons each person bore was what peaked her curiosity the most, though she was having just a bit of trouble remembering what each of them meant. Based on the different reactions of those she had observed, the girl was quite sure that the black meant something along the lines of rebellious, while the pretty white ribbons symbolized being more tame. Despite her mild uneasiness around the more rambunctious of the bunch, the ones with white ribbons kept her interest for only a moment or two. To be obedient seemed to associate with a pet more so then a person, and the thought really wasn't all that desirable. Of course, the very fact that she, too, tended to be rather keen to the expectations of others never once crossed her mind. "Oh, they're all so unique!" Ione breathed out, a tad louder than she had intended.