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((Edited my Roswyn post for info on the Liquored Tulips seeing as how it's likely to become relevant.))

“You’ll meet her at the Liquored Tulips. There is no sign out front, but two tulips are etched above the door of what appears to be a rather large residence. You’ll offer this on the door,” he tapped out a knock.


Liquored Tulips was Roswyn’s favorite guild owned and operated drinking and eating establishment. Of course that the guild owned and operated the establishment was one of its carefully guarded secrets, though easy enough to discover in the right circles. The alcohol here was the best in Cerxes, in her opinion. And there was a variety of entertainments available. The stage, while large enough, was rarely used for anything as involved as theatrics, but was often graced by those of talent with tale, song, or instrument.

There were long tables available for a variety of games involving cards, dice and currency of varying forms. They were seldom empty. The set up was such that they could easily be transformed to more “acceptable” forms of gaming should the need arise.

For their discerning customers information was also available concerning entertainments above and below ground. Serendipity’s frequent influx of a large variety of beings made both those entertainments easy to maintain. Upstairs pleasurable entertainment, below ground vicious. The lower level where the fighting occurred was not accessible from anywhere near the establishment however. That required special knowledge.

Crouched in the shadows of the rooftops, the woman known as Nyx asked herself again for the umpteenth time how she'd ended up chasing this woman. Oh, that was right, how could she forget? Locke... When he'd said he wanted to take her out on a date, Nyx had reluctantly agreed. She didn't find him completely uninteresting, but she wasn't sure she was overly fond of the fact that Locke's idea of a date was to go chasing after some outsider. She wasn't personally sure what the interest was in this woman, but Locke had said she was important. Well, she didn't seem like anything Nyx couldn't handle. She would make this quick and then perhaps Locke would treat her to a proper date.

She looked down into the alley and to see where this Devaena was headed towards. She would be out into the plaza soon and Nyx would lose her chance. She loosened the net in her hands, judged the distance, and made the toss. The net unfurled and sailed towards its target hitting her from behind, the weighted ends dragging her to the ground. Nyx grinned. Too easy. She dropped down to the ground silently intending to knock the woman out so she could find Locke and have her taken to the designated spot, but as she approached the woman turned and grinned. Nyx paused in surprise, her instinct kicking in just quick enough to move her out of the way as the warrior woman heaved the net back at her. She quickly drew her weapon, a hook ended blade, as her opponent drew her sword and the two clashed. However Nyx quickly found that blade the blade the woman's strength was wearing her down too quickly. She retreated to try and gauge a better way to bypass her opponent's defenses, but the warrior woman was watching back looking for those same weaknesses. Locke was right, this one would be a prize to have for their little games.

Nyx needed a distraction to close in on her opponent. She tossed out several smoke bombs to create a haze and obscure the woman's vision and moved in for another strike, but what she didn't realize was that the smoke was no hindrance to her opponent at all. She felt a massive hand close in around her neck and upper torso and slam her into the ground. Black spots filtered through her vision as the air was knocked from her lungs and she was sure she heard something crack. The face that leered down at her now was not that of the woman but something else entirely. "I'll be sure to let your employers know I appreciated the meal," the monster said in its distorted hiss.

Nyx's eyes went wide in realization the moment before Devaena began to devour her alive piece by piece.

Having witnessed the fight between two very powerful outsiders (Devaena and Lurp) Locke had followed the victor back to Dead Man’s Meet before returning to the guild to find Nyx. Though he had been able to unearth her given name, Nicole, he didn’t know much else about her other than that she was hot and he hoped easy. He thought to impress her by showing off his ability to capture one, or ideally both, of these outstanding specimens for the guild’s fight pit. Then there was also his generosity in involving her in the capture which would entitle her to a cut of the pay provided they won their first fight, which he was certain they would.

He returned to Dead Man’s Meet with Nyx just in time to catch sight of the victor returning to her room though the window. Together they listened at her window until the sound of footsteps pacing shifted to a more determined movement. While he had slipped in through an open window of another room Nyx had simply jumped to the ground somehow landing on her feet. He was impressed and wondered how she had managed that. He’d have to ask her later.

He watched the outsider depart and noted that she did not have the large golden sphere. Either she had shrunk it somehow or it had been the thing that the whispers had “let out.” Though he looked he saw no sign of Nyx which he admitted, reluctantly, was a good sign. It seemed he had chosen well in bringing her along.

He searched the victor’s room but found nothing of note. It seemed either she didn’t intend to return or she kept all her belonging with her at all times. Either was possible with a creature like that he supposed with a shrug.

He had exited her room through the door and made his way to the commons of Dead Man’s Meet. He’d nosed around a bit before entering the kitchen wherein he’d promptly been yelled at by the cook. He decided that he would have to come back after closing when he could search things properly in the dark. With no people around.

It had been hours since he’d exited Dead Man’s Meet, and set up a dice game where he could keep an eye on the comings and goings of its patrons. Wagers were placed for the game’s winner by those not playing and each round the two players bet on each round’s outcome with the stakes progressively rising as the option of round placement became more limited, and thus the player more likely to go for a certain scoring slot. A pile of tokens equal to each player’s coin was used to represent this for the back and forth math-keeping.

Locke had been more interested in his surveyance than he had in the game, so tonight he had been playing fairly. Still he had the advantage of familiarity with the game and the odds and what to wager when so he was still turning a profit.

((He’s essentially profiting from Yacht.))

Lurp's follows Locke's explanation of the rules, but her senses are heightened. They haven't even gotten to the dice yet, but the real game's already started, and Lurp's determined not to lose. She's still not sure if the gentleman from the crowd is a player or not, but she's not going to let him out of her sight. Playing her back will be turned to him though. For anyone else, this might be a problem (she will be keeping him under close scrutiny), but not for lurp. She divides her visual sensors and invisibly shifts some of them into the strands of her hair, until she literally has eyes in the back of her head. That's not her only change though. As she bends and turns to sit comfortably, her breasts momentarily look as if they might escape the tenuous hold her bodice has on them. This is of course an intentional distraction on her part. While those in the crowd gape at her gravity defying bosom, the parts of Lurp touching the ground are melding into the pavement. Carefully, she spreads a thin layer of herself out around her, the exact color and texture of the pavement.The shift is subtle enough that if anyone sees it, they would probably only mistake it for a trick of the light, or a heat mirage, but Lurp can never be too careful.

She cocks her head and smiles at Locke's question. "I thought the best way to learn was to play? Are you going easy on me already Mr. Locke?" Her eyes sparkle with pleasure as she says his name.

((I hope what Lurp did with the shifting is clear here, let me know if it's not and I will try to rewrite.))

That Locke suspected the ploy did not make him any less susceptible to it. Though he could have been more subtle in his appreciation of her… distraction he let her see his enjoyment in a look that lingered briefly longer than it should have below her face as she addressed him.

As his gaze shifted upward he noted a subtle difference in his surroundings but could not specifically place it. He wondered if she too had an understanding of the arcane arts. “I fear to admit I am going easy on myself, sweet Geri. I do not relish the idea of mingling unfavorably with your admirers at the conclusion of this game,” he offered demurely, “nor prior to it,” he gave a sidelong glance in the direction of the man who had stepped up from the crowd.

There was a murmer of appreciation from the crowd at Locke’s words, though the man who had stepped forward offered Locke a scowl.

“Certainly I do not look so old and stuffy as ‘mister’? Would not ‘master’ suit me better?” He smiled at her a playful spark in both his tone and expression. He threw the dice waiting for her reply to check the results of his roll.

((*Hopes you understand the multiple allusions in his offering of ‘master’?*))

"Suits you?" Geri considers as she watches him roll the dice. Unlike Locke, she flicks her eyes to see the outcome, but then her eyes flick back up to his. "Where there's a master there's inevitably a mistress, and I hate to make assumptions." Her lips curl in a half smile. "As for myself, I call no man 'master' though I have been called mistress enough in my time. I was 'well-suited' for it."

Locke laughed heartily, “I most certainly did not, but I thought it the polite thing to offer you a chance to do things the easy way.” He fought down his showman’s urge to magically ice his hand letting the effect progress its way up his arm. No, he would need the element of surprise if it came to that.

“I had not expected to summon a fool.” He idly twirled a solitary bracelet on the finger he had been tracing around her only a moment ago. “It is not your favor I am here to promote.” He let the bracelet ‘slip’ in her direction. He counted on her instinct to catch or at least bat the object away. If he were in her place he would want to examine the object given the opportunity. If he could get it in her hand or score a touch near her wrist the bracelet would work its own magic and transform itself to fit her with the shackle it was. Should she catch rather than bat away the first bracelet he will risk tossing a second in hopes that it too would be caught before she had time to process what the first had done.

((I didn’t expect you/her to. He’s delighted that she didn’t. twisted ))

"So glad to hear that," she responded to the fact that he was not here to curry favor. Really, grovelling mortals could easily become more of an annoyance than an amusement after a millenia or two.

She caught the glint of the first bracelet coming at her and instinctively reached up to crush it in her hand. "Really, you'll have to do better than--"

*Click*

Devaena's head swiveled in alarm. How? She had caught it in her hand and begun to crush it, and yet here it rested, cold and binding against her left forearm and looking much more like a shackle than a mere bracelet now that it was attached to her arm. A jolt of panic and alarm raced through her veins as she tried to grab the bracelet and pry it free with her lower arms until another glint caught the corner of her vision. This one her right arm batted away so forcefully that it clattered to the ground and rolled, but it had touched her hand and the magic in it still activated. With another *click* it too clasped onto her right forearm unbidden.

Devaena tried not to panic. Panic brought confusion and interfered with reasonable thinking, this she knew because it was a tactic of her own. However there was no denying the fact that all three of her hearts were beating furiously in...no, she wouldn't admit to fear. Concern. Oh she was most definitely concerned. It was perhaps the understatement of her life, but she had to hold it together and right now that meant lying to herself like she'd never lied before. There had to be a way out of this, and in the meantime this little peon better be praying to every god he revered because if Rivek thought his death was long and arduous, her captor's would be even more so when she got her hands on him...

Devaena realised her breathing had quickened and forced herself to take a long, deep breath to calm herself. There still had to be some way out of this, she just had to think of it. Then it came to her. Most summoning circles prevented harmful magic from being cast from inside the circle, but they didn't prevent the captured from casting magic on herself. Well, obviously she couldn't teleport herself away, the summoning magic did generally prevent such escapes, but she could alter herself...perhaps to a small enough form that she could slip free of these bracers. Certainly she wasn't going to allow him to touch her with anymore of those if she had a say in it.

Focusing on her human form, Devaena tried to call the innate magic forth which let her disguise herself as a mortal.

((I'll leave it up to you whether she can successfully shift or not. :3))

((She’s going to wish she hadn’t been able to. Sorry.))

Locke had no talent at emotional insight like many of the fiends in the guild, but that it was a natural ability for his race gave him a small taste of anything potent. Sensing her fear upon his success delighted him. He drew in a deep breath relishing the natural high her fear induced. Had he not been caught up in his work he may have wondered how others more gifted were not distracted by such a high, that the rarity of such insight, on his part, was the reason for his high would not have crossed his mind.

“Better than that?” The question was cold and rhetorical. “Once again you do not disappoint,” he commented as the second shackle clicked in place. “For my purposes your instincts serve you well, I look forward…” his sentence was cut short as he watched her transformation.

At the conclusion of her transformation Locke laughed in delight, “That was very kind of you to complete my work for me.” It was better than he could have ever hoped. The shackles had been created as two pairs of twins, thus allowing either her true form or a human form in the pit. “You have reconciled the magic to itself.” His smile was cruel, “Rest assured the shackles will once again split should you choose to revert to your own form.”*

He dismissed the spells on the chamber, but did not yet let go of the spell holding the nycaloth as he dropped himself comfortably into a plush armchair. “Now, as I was saying, I look forward to watching you in action. Shall I introduce you to your new friends or would you prefer we get further acquainted first?” He arched an eyebrow in question.

((*I had already had all of that in mind for the shackles with her true from having four arms while her human form would only have two.))

(I also already had that emotional insight tidbit figured out from when I've been playing him with Lurp. I hope that paragraph makes sense—I'm not sure it does outside my head. ^^;))

((Oh no need to apologize, it's entertaining for me to see Dev get a taste of her own medicine wink ))

Devaena dropped to her hands and knees as the transformation finished, her head hung almost as if in defeat, but when he settled into his chair and posed his question, Devaena laughed as she drew herself back upright.

"In action? Oh my misguided little mortal, you may have me trapped here, but I won't be doing anything. That's not how this works. What, did you think that a pair of shackles and a daemon's trap would make me grovel at your feet and comply with your every foolish little whim? No, you will have to do better than that. If you want anything more than my hatred and ticking time clock hanging over your head of how long you have before I find a way out of this - and do not fool yourself otherwise, I will find a way out of this - then I would suggest you start making a convincing bargain now." It was true, Devaena didn't like the fact that she was trapped here, nor did she like the possibilities inherant in being in clearly magical shackles, but neither of those compelled her obedience or compliance. That would have to be earned. And from the acidic spark in her green eyes, that was not going to be an easy task.

Locke had been capturing outsiders long enough and had proved himself capable multiple times over. As a form of both reward and encouragement Locke had been granted his own chamber in the underground labyrinth to use in his endeavors. Though not all creatures could be summoned as Devaena had been it was not an uncommon practice amongst the appropriators to simply teleport an outsider here to be dealt with in whatever manner pleased them. Less suspicion was cast on the guild when outsiders simply disappeared from the surface than when there were witnesses of a struggle. Not only that, but most appropriation chambers had elaborate magics in place to prevent various spells from being cast making the task of shackling the outsider easier oft times.

Whether or not Devaena would come to realize it she had been lucky in whose attention she had caught. Locke enjoyed the game more than he did the prize. Many such chambers were warded to the point that no magic other than the appropriator’s was allowed. Such was not Locke’s way however; while he was not willing to lay bare his secrets he liked rewarding those who sought them in his own way.

There were layers upon layers of magic in the room. That Lock did not mind his guests seeing. However he did mind them seeing more than an intricate weave of spells that he had refined and perfected over the decades since this chamber had become his. She would not be able to separate any one spell from the rest of the weave and would therefore be unable to determine which spells were in place and their effects which was how he wanted it. The magical barring of his chamber before he left was the magical equivalent of setting the locks not placing them. It, too, was part of the intricate switchboard of spells he had made available to himself. Should he find it necessary for whatever reason he too could lock out all magic aside from his own, but he had yet to find it nesecarry.

As he had left to seek out a healer he had wondered that he had not thought of making such magic available to himself before. After things had played out with his new playmate he determined to add that to his repertoire of available magics in his “fun chamber”. It certainly would have been handy.

The chamber itself was domed and tall enough to fit a literal giant inside. While Locke would not have felt inclined to leave such alone in his chambers there was room to accommodate one save that the furniture would be too small. The chamber was largely empty leaving a great deal of room on the floor for such things as summoning circles. If Devaena is meticulous in her inspection of the room she may even notice that the mosaic stone floor includes circles of varying sizes and assorted symbols in its design. While to the eye the surface is broken to the touch it is smooth allowing for clean uninterrupted lines.

The chamber furnishings are luxurious. From Devaena’s position in the armchair to her right is a couch curved perfectly to fit it against the wall where it rests. To the right of that is a sink and a mirror (magically protected from being shattered). To the right of that is a flushing toilet and away from the wall positioned between the sink and the toilet is a large standing tub. The most beautiful piece of furniture in the room by far is a large canopy bed.

While many appropriation chambers had a prison feel to them Locke preferred a homey environment. That his idea of homey was posh and expensive some found amusing, but he preferred the very thing he had shown Devaena an illusion of comfort and free will while not truly providing either. That it made it all the more fun when the outsiders were shown their actual accommodations was a secondary pleasure.

The shackles Devaena would get no clear read on; that was not something that was up to Locke. They were neither technology nor magic, yet both at the same time. If she studies the shackles intensely she may only have imagined it, but there seemed to be a fingerprint of sorts on the shackles that was part of the shackles but not.

((Rough, and most definetly not to scale idea on the layout of his chamber.))

((The fingerprint isn’t exactly a print or anything she can really examine, that’s why I wrote that she may only have imagined it. What I’m picturing is that right now Lock has a print on the shackles and he is the only one right now. Which would also make him the only one to work them and what protected him from being killed by her since he is not, himself, wearing a pair of shackles. The shackles will respond slightly differently to a “master” than to an opponent who is also shackled, I’m thinking.))

Locke had left intending to visit a healer, but he hadn’t decided yet whether what had happened between himself and the nycaloth had been her victory or his, and until he could be certain that victory had been his he did not want to brag. So he instead tracked down a healing amulet and spent some time lazing.

He quickly grew bored, however, and decided to return to his game sooner than he had intended. He had wanted to give her a full day to worry over things, but it was early the next afternoon when he returned.

He teleported back to his spot in the chair from whence he had left last night.

((For some reason I’m picturing evening as when he captured her. So we’re bringing him back in the afternoon. Then I realized I can’t really have Locke do much other than return until I know what Dev’s doing when he gets back.))

Unfortunately for Locke, Devaena didn't worry as much as he might've liked. Oh she might've been a prisoner in his chamber, but that was like saying a queen was a captive to her throne. Devaena had been given time to get over the initial shock, assess her situation, and determine that for now she simply needed to wait for an opportunity, a careless slip. She was sure it would happen eventually, and really...the time would probably be miniscule to her, a minor inconvenience.

At least, this was all what she had arrogantly convinced herself of in the time he was gone. The fear and worry were safely tucked away. Devaena had seen weakness, and that gave her strength. Weakness she could exploit. It was just a matter of finding the right moment to strike.

When Locke came back into the room she was perched in the chair again but this time in her half-fiend guise, and she looked much more like a queen on a throne rather than a prisoner. Her eyes were closed and her sword was laid across her lap as she sat in repose. There was not a flicker or flinch as he teleported in, just the space of a few breaths before her eyes snapped open. "You know, it's impolite to keep your guests waiting, my dear," she said in a snide fashion, her armored left hand scraping idly down the side of her greatsword in a quiet, but hair raising screech of metal on metal. She had made the last move before in their game, this time the advance was his.

((The dice, as they say, are in Locke's corner wink Oh Dev considered trying to surprise him or kill him or something untoward when he reappeared, but that little inkling voice reminded her that she might need him alive to get out of a) those shackles and b) this room rofl ))

((I meant worry over things like work them out. Not like fret in fear. After the way things played out last night the surprise would have been for her to be worried or cowering.))

She sat perched on the arm of the chair as if she were sovereign of his domain. Oh yes, the victory had been his. She was now poised perfectly for the fall. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you missed me, pet.” His tone was laden with insincere affection as he reached his hand up to cup her cheek in his palm and run his thumb softy over the scales below her eye. As he ended on the word pet the shackles grew hot on her skin.

((How was Dev expecting to surprise him? She wouldn’t have any way of knowing when he was returning and he basically just reappeared, though I can certainly see her anticipating that he would return to his chair.))

((Well that was what she was doing trying to figure out what bound her into the room and bound the shackles to her, but I wouldn't have called it worrying. smile And she didn't really have a good way to try and surprise him, so she didn't.))


"But of course," she said sweetly as his hand reached towards her face. However as Locke's hand touched her chin her gauntleted hand grabbed at his wrist and, if she got her hold, twisted it back and away with her brute strength, the talon-shaped metal tips digging for flesh. "I missed the sight of your flesh growing pale, the sound of your lungs struggling for something to breathe, the spark fading so close to dying from your eyes," she hissed as she tried to bring him to his knees. True, it was a ploy meant only to cause him pain. Not enough for his life to be in danger, but generally more than enough to back someone down. Locke might have a different tolerance for it though even, if earlier interactions were a sign, enjoy it. Either way, these were things she needed to know, as well as how the bracers would react to her potential threat. She could already feel them flaring hot against her skin, the warning or perhaps reminder that they were there. That she already knew, but she needed to determine how they were controlled. Was it automatic within the magic involved? Did her captor himself control how or when the bracers would try and force her to stop? And most of all, how far could she push the limits? She would -love- to maim that pretty little face of his before he could stop her, perhaps break his bones or shred his fragile flesh, but the time would come for that. For now she had to assess the situation and find her boundaries so that she could test them and push their limits.