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 Posted: Thu Oct 18, 2012 9:48 pm
((Continued from Rivek's Death))  After discovering that the victor was a nycaloth Locke was worried that his research would be slowed looking for information on a solitary creature, but to his delight the opposite turned out to be true. He had discovered another secret in the process. The guild had not been founded on taking advantage of outsiders, but rather on researching them. There had of course been a divergence of opinion followed by the murder of the guild’s founder, but the new leader saw the brilliance in his mate’s idea of keeping record of those he intended to make game of. That she had wanted merely to observe them and keep record of them had been her downfall.
The guild had numerous libraries on the various outsiders that had entertained them over the centuries, possibly millennia, Locke wasn’t sure and he didn’t really care enough to find out. He wondered who in the guild was so dull as to keep these records, but again, he decided he really didn’t care; at least he didn’t care right now.
At first his access to these libraries had been denied, but he knew Vordyn’s girlfriend Roswyn and how pampered and indulged she was by Vordyn. He had hoped to gain her assistance in getting into the libraries in exchange for his assistance in some endeavor she didn’t want Vordyn to know about. His skill in the arcane arts was not unknown amongst the guild though there were few who knew how great and she was one of the latter. He preferred to be known for his capture of outsiders.
He had aided her before, albeit at her behest. That he had done so willingly furthered his own plans. Should Vordyn fall as head of the guild he would not mind her assistance in his ascension should he have a viable chance. He also saw no reason not to keep her as a mate should he succeed. He wasn’t sure what Vordyn’s motivation was for indulging her so much, but he was certain it was beyond her attractive form. Yes, he would curry her favor whenever and however the opportunity may present itself.
That she was nowhere about was a great disappointment to him. So instead of seeking her aid he risked her wrath (as well as Vordyn’s) and assumed her form. He could alter his appearance fully, height, weight and even gender, but for all his power he struggled with subtleties. (Such things were not important when merely assuming another form.) Getting her coloring right was difficult for him and despite his struggle to do so he had not mastered the magic for vocal adjustments. No amount of magic could teach him her strut; that he feared would be his giveaway. How the woman could walk in the heels she frequently wore was beyond him. He would have to wear a flat shoe if he didn’t want to fall flat on his… anywhere.
He had had to refrain from speaking, but had managed to gain entrance to the library he desired and had made notes of the information he needed on the nycaloth. He had hoped to simply teleport out, but to his disappointment, not unexpected, there were extensive protections against such magic. He wondered if his had been a natural talent rather than a learned one if it would have mattered.
The next step in his plan was easier by far. He was well known in the guild for his capture of impressive outsiders for the fight pit so working with one of the machina on forging bands to hold his next target went smoothly. Cold-iron and magicked to accommodate any changes in size the outsider may make. Lock inscribed them personally with a binding.
He double checked his components and magically sealed the chamber he was in against intrusion and sound other than his own. He understood well what a distraction or mistake would likely cost him. He began drawing the summoning circle on the ground and concluded with the incantation.
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Posted: Thu Oct 18, 2012 10:08 pm
Devaena had been observing the happenings of the city in the area near Worldspanners since the death of Rivek. The building tensions were music to his/her wicked little ears. S/he was meandering through the crowd preparing his/her next move when she felt a tug at her middle.
No....impossible.
It was like a hook catching around her insides, secured against her spine, and pulling her incessantly towards it. This couldn't be happening again...not here, not now!
Devaena quickly pushed his way through the crowd nearly dropping his weapon in his haste. He had barely gotten to an open lull in the crowd with the tug came again, stronger this time. Enough to bring him to his knees with the effort it took to resist. When the next tug came, it was too much, too strong. With a defiant, angry roar that was more monster than man, the light-haired warrior vanished from the crowd to the brief surprise of the onlookers.---- 
“Such beauty,” he said in awe as he moved to circle her. “Serendipity has seen your like before, but I have not.” His finger trailed in the air just outside her invisible prison; the gesture reminiscent of a caress.
Devaena sneered, which in this form almost looked more like a leering grin. "Come closer then, little mortal, and let me show you what true beauty looks like," she hissed through gritted teeth. She doubted he would take the bait even though she offered out her hand, but fools had ruined their summonings for less.
Rising to her feet she scanned the circle discreetly for any breaks in the lines where she could free herself. She found none on her first pass. She would have to distract this man, throw him off his game and then make him slip up. One mistake, one tiny little flaw in the lines and Devaena was sure she could break free. She just had to wait, play this little game long enough to lull him into making a mistake...and then she would rip his still-beating heart from his chest and devour it as he died, or perhaps something equally as brutal but less quick would be better for him. One thing was for sure, she was going to make him suffer for this.
She got as comfortable as she could in the confines of the summoning circle, her feral amber eyes never leaving him as he surveyed her. The irritation was still clear in her eyes, but there was a hint too of arrogance, as if she knew something he didn't. "Well then, don't waste my time. Why have you summoned me?" And more to the point, how? she thought to herself. Although, if she was lucky perhaps she was out of Serendipity now. One way or another she planned to find out soon enough.Locke laughed, “Had my efforts been an attempt to seduce you I promise I would have chosen a more appropriate method for catching your attention.” His tone seductive, he stopped circling to catch her gaze before proceeding, “Your pulchritude is better perused than palpated,” he said with a sly smile.
He resumed circling her, his finger trailing in the same manner which it had previously. “That lust is not my reason for summoning you does not devalue my appreciation of your form.” Whether or not the nycaloth saw his genuine admiration for her form was irrelevant. “I do have a gift for you however,” he stopped again and held up his other arm displaying four shiny bracelets. He lowered his arm and they slid into his palm where he fanned them for her in a simple fluid motion.Devaena eyed the bracelets for a moment, her eyeridge raising. "A gift, really..." she said clearly disbelieving, the sarcasm heavy in her voice. "You summon me here in your daemon's trap to oogle at and you expect me to just accept the first thing you hand to me on good faith? I'm no fool, mortal, and you'd do well to remember that," she said, her gaze piercing. "By all rights I should be offended at the insult. Certainly if it's my good graces you desire you are treading a very dangerous path," she snarled, showing teeth.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."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.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.Quote:  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.
While he was not intimately acquainted with machina technology Locke knew enough about the shackles to work them properly. He had been using them to capture and bring in outsiders for long enough.
He watched her intently.Quote: As the binding magic dissipated it was indeed Devaena's first and deepest desire to lunge forward and rip out Locke's throat, but her better judgement won out and stayed her hand. In fact she didn't budge a single inch from where she was standing save to cross her arms and raise an eyebrow at him. "Really? You're going to try baiting me now? You assume, incorrectly, that I don't see right through the attempt." Honestly, did he think she was stupid enough to take that clearly laid out bait? She wasn't about to get herself hooked again. "As I said before, you may have me summoned here, but I won't be doing anything until you tell me what in the Gray Wastes you want and why you've brought me here."
She did take careful note of the fact that he knew exactly what she was. That was rare, that likely meant he had prepared this specifically for her. That was concerning as well, but at the moment all that 'concern' could take a hike and get stuffed. She would worry when she had something to worry about. Until then, she just had to tell herself this was an inconvenience. An annoying, troublesome inconvenience that she would soon rend limb from limb.
She claimed that she would not be doing anything and therein laid his inspiration. A few uttered words and Locked beckoned her with his finger. “I find this form much more appealing than your last,” seduction overlaid a tone of command.Quote: Devaena could feel the prickling sensation on her mind as the magic tried to take effect. So, he wanted to control her did he? That she definitely wasn't about to allow. Magic that affected her mind and compelled her against her will was something Devaena had taken precautions against a long time ago. After all, it was hard to lie and conceal your identity if someone could compel the truth from you or force you to do whatever they wanted. The protection was not foolproof - magical protections rarely were since they depended on the skill of the caster against the skill of the one trying to break those defenses - but it hadn't failed her yet, and for the moment it held firmly.
On the other hand, she didn't want to give away her defenses just yet. She let her eyes widen in surprise even as her feet carried her jerkily forward as if she were trying still to resist. Her eyes narrowed as she stiffly leaned down and hissed, "I'll be sure to remind you of that before I pluck your eyes from their sockets." So, her captor wanted a show did he? She would give him one he would regret desiring. Even as her eyes smouldered with hatred and spite, as she continued to feign losing the struggle against his spell, she reached down to take his face in her hands drawing him into a deep kiss, the kind that mortals cherished because it left them breathless and dizzy. The moment Devaena thinks she has him drawn into the ruse, however, she attempts to tighten her hands around his neck and cut off his airways. Oh she would leave him breathless alright...
He had no time to reply to her comment before his face was in her hands and the soft warmth of her lips pressed against his. He indulged her in what he was now certain was her play in the game, this was not what he had had in mind for a kiss. Her hands around his neck were what did him in. He lost the spell as he tangled a hand in her hair and trusted in the shackles to prevent her from killing him. How the technology worked or what exactly its response was to the threat of a death Locke didn’t know; he’d never experienced it even this closely.Devaena pulled back for a moment as her hands tightened around his throat. "My aren't we a deviant," she crooned with a sneer, her eyes practically glowing in triumph in the low light. She hadn't expected him to tangle his hand in her hair and pull her closer again, but at this point she didn't care. All that mattered what that she was going to squeeze every last ounce of air from him, and if she had to kiss him to do so? So be it.
Even so, she couldn't say that she was entirely surprised when she felt the bracers flare hot against her skin, a warning perhaps, but one she ignored as she pressed her thumbs firmly against his windpipe. When she then felt a jolt through her arms and down the nerves of her spine that probably should have felt like several cattle prods, she dismissed it for at this point she had him gasping for air. Even at the point where she felt the bracers then chill against her flesh she gritted her teeth and snarled in pure fury trying to bear it, trying so hard to push him that last bit over the edge to death. It felt like she was freezing from the inside out, that terrible, burning cold that never reached the point of numbness, to where it was painful just to draw a breath. When she felt the next shock run through her limbs it was like acid in her frozen veins. She screamed and let him go, stumbling back and dropping to her knees as she clutched one of the bracers in her shaking hand. Devaena had felt pain, had learned how to shrug it off or embrace it and push forward, but this....this was agony. For a long moment she sat there, eyes wide as she tried to examine the wound only to find there wasn't one she could see. However somehow her skin still felt frostburned and raw beneath the shackle's cold iron.
So this was to be her afterlife then. Trapped into some conjurer's service, bound against her will, and left with no choice to obey despite having all the free will in the world. She barked a laugh at the irony. It was exactly what she would've done if the situation had been reversed, she couldn't deny it, though she still didn't know exactly what this man wanted her for. If that kiss was any indication...well, it might be a long and trying afterlife. Still, she wasn't about to give up. These shackles had to have limits, and she would test them until she found their breaking point. She would make this man's life a living hell even if it meant giving him what he desired for now. After all, they didn't say to keep your friends close and your enemies closer for nothing.
For possibly the first time since being summoned into this room, Devaena smiled, triumphant and unbowed.
Because now she had a plan.Her snide remark only served to encourage him and Locke pulled her firmly to him relishing the joint sensations of pain and pleasure fueled by the adrenalin of a fight or flight response which he ignored. He played a dangerous game now and he not only knew it but reveled in it.
Though Locke had no way of knowing it when things turned dangerous for him Devaena’s bracers flared hot, by the time his natural defenses fought strongly to override his willingness to play this out the chill set in. That neither of them had ceded the struggle brought on the acid just in time to save his life. If he would have simply given over to his instincts and made even the slightest effort to fend her off it would have ended in a healthier state for him.*
Locke gasped for air as the shackles finally prevailed and the nycaloth stumbled to the ground. That had been closer than he had been prepared for. “Well played,” he commended her when he could finally speak again, there was a distinct rasp in his voice and he wondered, vainly, how long that would persist.
Though he wanted to stay and play he knew he needed to recover. The shackles would keep her bound to this chamber until his return. Magically barring the chamber against intrusion he teleported out.
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Posted: Thu Oct 18, 2012 10:30 pm
Quote: Devaena pulled herself off the ground even though her nerves protested and plopped herself into Locke's plush chair as he stood to leave. She was grinning like a cheshire cat. "I'll look forward to continuing our game, little mortal. Don't keep me waiting too long," she said with a mix of snide and possibly a perceived hint of sultry that might or might not have been there.
Once he was out of the room, Devaena focused her sight into the spectrum of the magical. She wanted to see if she could get a better idea of exactly what she was up against.
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.)) Quote: Devaena couldn't say she was surprised to not find out more, though she did examine the fingerprint-like marking on the bracer as much as she could. She wasn't sure if it would be of use to her right now, but eventually she was sure that would come in handy.
She still couldn't be sure exactly what this man wanted with her. He's said something about 'meeting her new friends' though. It sounded strangely like something she might've said to someone before she shoved them into the Pit at Bleak Barrens. Either way, it couldn't bode well.
She spent the time examining the bracers, looking for any niche or weakness that she could perhaps exploit to get them off of her wrists. They, she was certain, were the only thing between her and freedom, somehow blocking her natural ability to teleport even on this plane. She tried shifting back and forth between her disguises and found that they persisted through all her forms from human to full fiend, male or female. Any other time she might have admired the ingenuity, right now she just wanted the damn things off. She tried beating them against a hard surface, but they resisted dents and wearing. She tried cutting, sawing, and prying them loose, but to no avail. The only thing she didn't dare try was magic. She wasn't well versed enough in the type that might break the enchantment, not to mention that there was no telling if her own blood magic would react too violently with the technomagic and make her efforts pointless anyways (no point in being free if you were dead). So it was that she contented herself to wait, pretending to enjoy the comforts while she passed the time until her captor returned
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.Quote:  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.Quote: "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.
There was no change in the shackles’ response to any of this. Devaena looked down on him and smiled back as she stood to loom over him and leaned in. "Oh I'm just getting started my dear," she said whispering the words in his ear before releasing him with a backwards push and turning her back to him. After all, she didn't fear exposing her back to him. If he wanted her dead he wouldn't be trying to toy with her. He likely never would've released her from the circle.
She paused right before she would have likely turned back around and sat down and glanced back over her shoulder, smirking. She had felt his brush on her mind. In a sense it might feel like running your hand over a smooth, flawless orb. You know there is something inside, but the door to the prize is so well concealed that you could run your fingers over the surface for what might seem like eternity before finding it. He wouldn't come away empty though. He could pick up muted images of her surface thoughts. Hatred, anger, a hint of amusement, and a pool of determination, There was no doubt, Devaena was forged of steel inside and out, and she would not easily bend or break.
The problem Locke might find with touching her mind was that it potentially left him open to the same. Fiends were known for being telepathic and being able to communicate in that manner. Perhaps then it wouldn't surprise him when the images flashed before him, the scene playing out of Nyx coming after her those nights ago, the ensuing fight, and Devaena's gruesome victory. She made sure to savor the moments at the end when she pinned the woman helplessly and took the first bite from her fleshy center, the screams of agony, every disturbing little detail her mind could recall she relished as much an attempt to unnerve him as a threat to say this way the sort of fate she intended for him when his time came.
I will give you this, the nightmarish, hissing voice came in his head. If she was one of yours, she was certainly more reckless and stupid than you, and I believe that's saying quite a bit considering, she gloated in her thoughts as she turned and sat back down in the chair, crossing her legs. "So, are we going to play some more games? Or are you going to tell me who you are and why you were foolish enough to summon me here? I'm game for either," she said aloud with a grin.At her words he wondered if he should consider this a warm up and toss her into the pit without handing her over to one of the custodians first. He’d never handled one of his captures in the pit though and he didn’t want to mess up the sizeable profit he was expecting from this one. “I like the way you warm up,” he purred as she pushed him over.
Her thoughts were beautiful and he closed his eyes with a smile and a contended sigh that she was sure to catch as she turned to glance at him over her shoulder. As she began feeding him the scene that had played out with Nyx he knew that she knew he was there. He would let her feed him what she would; telepathic communication such as this was much more efficient than words could ever be. Only if she were to try and read his mind would he shut her out. That he had been hopeful to have his way with Nyx did not stand in the way of his appreciation of Devaena’s work on her.
His reply was smug and laced with ecstasy, I have chosen well, I will give you that. He fed her a brief glimpse of her victory with the spider-creature. Yes, he thought to her, very well. The tone of his thoughts grew cold and hard as he continued on telepathically in reply to her words; It seems time for play is past my pet. And with that he kicked up the bracers.Devaena perked an eyebrow, keeping her thoughts close. So the spider was potentially his tool? Had that been a test? But for what? The longer this carried on the less she liked where it was going. She felt the shackles ramp up, the sensation like a brand searing into her flesh repeatedly. Painful, yes, but tolerable. Take these shackles off and I'll show you how I really like to warm up. Or do I frighten you so much that you have to hide behind your little veil of safety?
She felt the pain intensify, as if her arms were being corroded by acid and the flesh peeling away. but she gritted her teeth and forced her legs to raise her from the chair. That's right, little mortal. Hide behind your toys. Cower and know the truth in your frail little heart.
The next blow came in the feel of an icy lash across her back. She flinched even as she kept her eyes locked on his. A second fell, the sensation as if it were landing harder and cutting deeper into the flesh. She grunted, but remained resolute. The third imaginary blow was enough to stagger her as her mind reeled in pain. Really, if she hadn't been the one in the shackles she might have admired their workings, the magic attacking not the mind but the body itself through the nerves to create the sensations she felt. Not a wound would mar her, but the pain she felt lingering. She imagined if the controller wished they would work in the opposite manner as well.
As she collected herself and pushed back to standing she realized she had lost her hold on the magic that kept her in her half-mortal guise, likely a reflexive and protective instinct. She chuckled darkly, bitterly seeing her own expressions gazing back at her from Locke's face. He was toying with her, she could tell, and enjoying every moment of it. Perhaps he had been all along. Savor it while it lasts, she spit in his head, her tail flicking angrily and taking out the plush chair in its path. Your time too will come, and I will cherish your every agonizing moment when it does...
And then she was on fire, every nerve crying out in agony. She fought, she clenched her teeth and tried to bear it, but it was too much. Her vision started to spot, her knees giving way and bringing her down. She opened her mouth to scream and coughed up her own ichor instead, and that was when the panic set in. Now she knew that it wasn't just pain that he could threaten, but her very life...and that she wasn't willing to bargain with.
"ENOUGH!" she bellowed with what strength she had left to muster. What a weak, wretched mess she must look at the moment. Shackled in all her glory and yet dragged to her knees. The pain didn't die away completely, but it receded enough for her to catch her breath, and when she did...she laughed. It was a maddened, cracked laugh, a hissing chuckle that continued as if she couldn't quite bring it under control even as she spoke. "You win.....for now you win."When he told her play time was past he only meant hers. As she had asked if she frightened him he offered her no response beyond a cruel smile and the intensification of the shackles. He was not the one afraid at the moment and they both new it. He delighted in her anger and did not shy from her hatred; these he deliberately kindled.
If my time does come at your hand I, too, will cherish every moment, he thought to her. His eyes alight in anticipation. No he did not fear her nor did he fear his own death. If he were to die what better way to go down than losing in his own game.
His only response to her concession was to casually turn his back on her and walk out the door.
She was ready for a custodian now.
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Posted: Thu Oct 18, 2012 10:41 pm
Locke navigated the maze with ease and found, without too much difficulty, the custodian he was after. Pitch had handled other of Locke’s captures before and Locke believed him capable of handling this one.Pitch listened to Locke’s disclosure on the creature awaiting their return to his chamber. The way that Locke described her Pitch wondered if the capture would still bear her defeat upon their return. While he trusted Locke’s capabilities fully Pitch felt that Locke was too cocky and casually reckless. Of course he would never tell Locke this, there was often a spirit to his captures that was unmatched by those of other appropriators and Pitch appreciated that.
As Locke held the door to his chamber open Pitch beheld Locke’s capture for the first time.Pitch was right to be concerned about whether Devaena would still be defeated when he came back. As soon as the door opened the massive four-armed fiend lunged at the new custodian, teeth and claws bared. She still had to test the limits of these bracers while she could bear to do it.Locke didn’t miss a beat in evoking the shackles’ power as Devaena lunged. For a change her behavior was quite predictable and nothing less than he had hoped for. “You see,” he said smugly to Pitch.While he had prepared himself for this distinct possibility he had not prepared himself for what he beheld; Locke had not done his capture justice. “I see,” he replied, his voice steady. Despite his trust in Locke’s abilities the captures was not yet in his own care and Pitch flinched as the creature had lunged at him.
Yes he could see why Locke was so pleased with his capture. He could see why Locke had not just settled for the nearest custodian, and he could see this one turning quite a profit for the guild.Devaena drew up short with a roar of pain. She lashed out with her claws, but though they swept dangerously close to her prey, she couldn't quite reach him. The pain was just too much. Finally she stepped back, tossing her head in irritation. She paced the room much like an animal locked in a cage, her tail lashing, her eyes baleful on the new accomplice in her torment. She sensed weakness in him, her eyes boring into his. "What's this then," she chuckled as she paced. "Brought me a new plaything did we?"“You catch on quick pet,” Locke answered affectionately.Pitch wisely suppressed his chuckle. Oh he’d heard the caress of Locke’s honeyed words before but that he chose such a tone with the creature before them he found laughable. His reply was cold and authoritative, “More accurately he has brought me a new plaything.” Pitch replied stepping into the room. Locke followed.
After the initial shock of meeting Locke’s newest capture had subsided Pitch ably held his ground and met her gaze. He pulled a deceptively thin chain from his pocket and lazily twirled it around. Even though he held his ground now, the damage had been done. "What a shame, and here I thought you were strong enough to handle me alone," she taunted Locke even while she kept her eyes on Pitch. "Instead I'm disappointed," she said with a snort. She'd seen the chain, more magic to try and subdue her she imagined, but that wasn't the foremost thing on her mind. She was waiting for an opportunity to test her next theory about her bindings. It simply hadn't presented itself yet.As Locke approached the chair that Devaena had taken out with her tail earlier it repaired itself. Yes, he had spent a small fortune on the furniture, but it had been so worth the cost to be able to mend the damage rather than replace the pieces. Especially at times like this. With a bow to her he plopped himself down (where he could keep an eye on things) before he replied lazily, “I told you time for play is past.” He feigned a yawn. Whereas last time he had meant hers, this time he meant his.Pitch did not reply to the creature but instead observed. He rolled his eyes as Locke reclaimed his throne clearly intending to sit this round out. He continued to twirl his chain lazily awaiting the creature’s move.Devaena kept her focus on Pitch, but ever distrustful and not wanting to leave her back to Locke her tail swept towards the chair and to push it into her peripheral view, perhaps with enough force to sent him tumbling out of it once it came to a halt. She then sat back on her haunches, her lower arms crossing across her chest. It seemed clear to her that Pitch was waiting for her to make a move, so she would do exactly the opposite and not make one at all. After all, her theory required catching him by surprise, and she couldn't do that if he were expecting something.Though her reply to his taking a seat was quick he had not expected to be left to sit in his chair in peace and had readied his magic. At the flick of her tail Locke teleported himself, in his chair, to a new vantage point across the chamber from her. “Do you truly wish to continue on with me when I have brought you a new playmate?” his voice made the question a warning.Pitch continued twirling his chain. As the creature sat back Pitch smiled, “Yes, I was informed you were a stubborn one.” He smiled taking a step towards her. If she continues to stay he will approach until just out of her reach.((As a note I’m picturing Pitch as Machina so I’m not sure what kind of appearance he has.)) "I didn't want you to feel left out, my dear," Devaena drawled in her hissing, monstrous tone. Her tail flicked lazily behind her and she simply watched Pitch close in. She seemed content to wait and let him make the first move. However she was waiting, and as soon as he was in reach or would make a move, she would strike, hard, vicious, and for the heart. She wanted to catch him off guard, surprise him. She needed to know if the bracers would act on their own, or if she would have an opening if she could catch them off guard.“How considerate,” Locke replied dryly. He watched Pitch and the nycaloth intently. His job, at present, was to keep Pitch from sustaining injury. If the nycaloth made a move for Pitch Locke was ready with the shackles and he knew from experience that he would have to hit her fast and hard. He was prepared not to bother with sensation of cold or acid and simply trigger a reaction of incapacitating pain. A failsafe he had never before had cause to trigger. He had warned her playtime was over and it was not his concern if she chose not to heed that warning. That Locke was prepared for such measures did not necessitate them; he would let Pitch make that call.Pitch felt Locke enter his head. While he preferred not to have Locke there, the two had worked together long enough that this was established protocol for them. This would allow Locke to react to the capture as if he were Pitch and so he did not fight the invasion of his thoughts. How Locke remained fully aware of both of them Pitch had never understood. He supposed it had something to do with his being a fiend.
Just outside of the capture’s reach Pitch swung his chain for her neck. As with the shackles he just needed to get it close enough. If it tagged her neck or her shoulders it would close about her neck. If she were to deflect with an arm and the chain were to come in contact with the shackles it would instead draw the shackles together effectively binding all four of her hands together. He preferred the neck, but would settle for her hands being bound if it came to that. He had more chain in his pocket.
Pitch had been at this long enough that he usually got the capture’s neck on his first attempt. The chain was not looped into a lasso and most creatures did not suspect its purpose, though most were not surprised once it was about their neck either. Not after having witnessed the beauty of the shackles.These men were capable and cautious, that much Devaena could tell, but she had strength and speed on her side. With inhuman speed she closed the gap between herself and Pitch, her arm swiping across backhanded to send Pitch sailing across the room. It was a blow that would have killed a regular mortal from the force and the impact alone, but she had a feeling that Pitch had a method or means to survive. If he did or didn't survive, so be it, she had found out what she needed to know. Now it was just a matter of patience and endurance.
She felt the chain slither and lock around her neck a moment before the shackles kicked in and dropped her to the floor in crippling pain. Her roar this time was a bellow of pure agony which trailed to an almost canine-like whimper before she collapsed and her world went black.
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