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Goodness, running a business was always so tiring. Memphis had been in this business for many years. If anyone was still in the dark about what had happened to the previous proprietor, they didn't care to kick up trouble over it. The incubus was firmly rooted in his place in the filthy underbelly of Saxon. Many called him the lowest of the low. At least the pits gave slaves a chance to fight. At least Blood Nation just drained them dry. But Memphis drained people of more than their blood. In offering his 'childrens' services, Memphis drained them of everything they had. Their energy, their blood, their will to live. He sucked them down until they were nothing but husks to be tossed into whatever chop shop was low enough to take on such sullied products. Most respectable places wouldn't even touch them. So, Memphis had to figure out where to dump the husks. Had to make deals to have them shuffled out, discreetly, quietly. Memphis had to make sure that the ones who were still living, still profitable, were well taken care of. He had to make sure that they got all their important nutrients, and that they took their medicine, because that was important for them to stay safe. Memphis loved his children, after all. And he wnted to make sure they lived as long and healthy as possible. But it was important for children to understand discipline. So when Markus ran away, the incubus wasn't mad. He was just disappointed. Because he'd given the elf every chance to be a good child. And he'd done so well! He'd done his chores, and taken his medicine... well, he'd pretended to. But Memphis, why, he'd been fooled! Markus was such a good boy. He'd let him off the leash, let him lounge untethered and gave him treats and attention. And how had he been repaid? By slipping out as soon as he'd lulled a client into sleep. It really just felt like a betrayal. So he'd sent a quick message to his sniffers, given them a scent, and off his loyal dogs had gone. If they did a good job, well... it was only natural to throw dogs a bone when they were good boys, wasn't it? Memphis wasn't very worried about the whole incident. His feelings were hurt, yes, but worry? Not really. There weren't many safe places to hide in his little neck of the woods. Anyone in the nearby vicinity would be able to spot the wild, frantic demeanor of one of Memphis' lost children from a mile away and drag him back to score a discount. Possibly after test driving the runaway themselves. His misbehaving child wouldn't get far in any direction, even without his sniffers out for him. In the meantime, Memphis had to look out for his own health. Between rationing out cuts, shipments of medicine, managing food, and all the tedium of the average day even without the stress of a runaway child, he was just exhausted. But, naturally, Memphis hadn't had a wink of sleep since he was a little boy. Like all incubi, he had to replenish himself in other ways.

Fortunately, most of the children in the Playhouse, however resistant or resilient, were addicted to Memphis. Whether they wanted to or not, they wouldn't be able to resist him in any capacity when he came for a snack. Those who were more heavily hooked were even eager, desperate for their next fix. He did his best to spread out his attentions, because the ones who took care of him too often started showing the symptoms of being fed on by an incubus too often, and tended to last not half as long as the rest. But the incubus couldn't help but have his favorites. Like Matt. Matt had been a frightening figure, once. Tattooed and scarred, all sinewy muscle and piercings. Memphis wasn't sure what he'd done to piss off his Crownless superiors. Apparently something to do with screwing someone over, who knew. In any case, like countless others, Matt had ended up on Memphis' doorstep with a slew of other less useful illegals. Matt might have made a decent ring fighter, but Memphis supposed his former boss wanted to make an example of him. It probably worked wonders, considering that his former teammates sometimes stopped by, called him by name. Things like that were why it was important to treat your coworkers well. You never knew when they might get their chance to do, well... whatever the hell they wanted to you. Some took pity on him. Most didn't. Truth be told, Memphis had gotten bored of cute, soft, little meek types a while ago. They were a phase for him, of course, like most. But these days he really preferred men like Matt. Firm, strong, proud. Matt had spit curses at him, called him every filthy name he could think of. His body had been less than responsive, at first. It just made everything all the sweeter when all the training paid off. Memphis sighed contentedly in his office, lounging on a well-loved, low-seated couch, knees spread comfortably as Matt... got what he needed. The scary, scarred up gangster whined and moaned and begged for it just like every other b***h in the building by then, sweating and crying and doing all of the work himself while Memphis leaned his head back, relaxed. It as a bit like enjoying a steak that had been marinated just right.

He was a little surprised when the knocks came, to hear Rumi's voice as the door was swung open. Memphis wasn't the least bit bothered by his state of half-undress. Matt, it seemed, was very bothered by it... but not enough to stop what he was doing.
"Oh, you three are back already? That was quick! I'll be right out." He gently pushed Matt away. The sinewy male shook, reluctant, but ultimately obedient, flopping over onto the couch to bring his knees up to his chest, resting his head on them and shaking, on the edge of overdosing. In all likelihood, he'd be dead by the end of the month, either from overdosing on Memphis, or from withdrawal from him if he stopped. The former was more likely. Memphis stood casually, zipping up his pants and straightening his jacket as he moved towards the door, flashing the lycan a friendly grin. "You're... Rumi, right? Solid work, bringing him back so fast. Let's have a look!" He clapped the sniffer on the shoulder before stepping past him and into the lobby, where Noah was holding the shaking, sobbing, crying elf. Memphis tilted his head, coming to a stop right in front of the kid and smiling in a way that was deceptively warm. He made gentle 'shush'ing noises, petting through his wild hair with one big hand. "Oh, now now, Markus, shh, it's okay. Mommy's here now, no need to cry~" That only seemed to make the elf shiver and cry more. Memphis tutted, shaking his head. "Now, if you were going to be this upset about it, you shouldn't have broken the rules, honey. What would the other children think if, after all the special treatment and privileges I gave you, I just let you off with a stern warning after that, hm? Wouldn't be very fair, would it?" The elf couldn't muster a reply, even if he hadn't been gagged. He just shook in Noahs grip, trembling. Even the elf could likely feel the other lycans anticipation. He knew what good dogs got, after all. Noah was wagging his tail, anticipating the treat he knew he'd earned. By then, many of the more coherent lounge slaves had turned their eyes to watch the scene. A few of the clients who weren't too engrossed in... their own affairs... turned their gaze as well. Hell, some seemed to get a kick out of it. Still, Memphis didn't like doling out punishments in the lobby. It just wasn't professional, and he didn't want to put any clients off their appetite. He waved the two sniffers into his office. Noah dragged the elf along and inside easily while Memphis politely held the door open for the trio. Before closing it behind him, he turned his head to some of the lounging slaves who were hovering near the stairs, looking particularly unnerved. Merrily, the incubus called each of them by name.

"Anna, Milo, Ethan? Would you three come here, please." The three slaves looked like they would all rather do literally anything else in the world. But, with fearful glances exchanged between them, they obeyed, the two boys and girl filing in obediently as Memphis closed the door behind them. He resumed his position back on the couch, where Matt immediately tried to pick up where he'd left off, only to whine when Memphis batted him away. "Now then. You three can have a seat. Yes, right over there, that's fine. Don't worry, you aren't in trouble. Only Markus is. Now, Markus. Do you know what you did wrong?" Shakily, in the lycans grip, the elf nodded. "Good boy. I'm very disappointed in you, Markus." He sounded every bit like a chiding parent, soft yet firm. "I trusted you. Gave you privileges that many children here would very much enjoy and like to have. But you abused those privileges. So, naturally, you'll lose them." The elf let out a choked sob. It was no secret what happened to runaways - they lost their legs. But what Markus didn't recognize was that those runaways hadn't usually been given presents and gifts like he had, hadn't hurt Memphis' feelings. It was important that the other, less eager lounge slaves - like Milo, Anna, and Ethan - understood what happened when you took Memphis' kindness and spat it back in his face like that. He sighed exaggeratedly, shaking his head. "Sadly, Markus, I just don't think I can trust you at all anymore." He raised his eyes to Noah and Rumi, then. "So I'll let these gentleman have you instead." He explained flatly. "Rumi, this was your first job with me, wasn't it? I'm very impressed~ I do my best to reward good work. I'm sure Noah has mentioned it. He's so reliable~!" He smiled at the dark-haired lycan, perfectly casual in spite of the wide-eyed look that the bound elf was giving him. "I can't use a slave who won't listen. So, you two use him however you like. He's no use to me anymore." 'No use' was a fairly simple code for Memphis, one Noah was plenty familiar with. 'No use' meant you could tear them into as many pieces as you liked, hell, that it was encouraged. 'No use' meant there was no saving them. 'No use' meant a living chewtoy, or... whatever kind of toy. The shaking, slender youth was utterly and completely at the mercy of the two lycans, and Memphis expected them to kill him for him. The three lounge slaves looked various shades of petrified, but none dared to move or speak. Matt seemed too zoned out to think about anything other than climbing in Memphis' lap again as the incubus leaned back.
"Please teach my children a lesson for me~"

[ ooc ; DANG THIS s**t GOT DARK YO GOMEN ]
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