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- The Thieves Guild |&| Babylonia
Damien's pointed nails drew her attention back down to the contract. “Then, my dear sweet pet, sign it. We will punish him for his offenses, and you will feel so much better...”
Masahir swallowed one last time, her jaw jittering as she glanced down at the parchment and grimaced. The sound of the pen tip scratching her signature into the page burned itself into her ears as her fate was sealed.
11:49pm
"What a good girl you are Masa~" Damien cooed warmly as he praised the diva, his smirk coy and crawling with callous excitement. His crimson eyes twinkled with an ill-befitting glee as the parchment coiled itself back up into a scroll and vanished in a puff of sulfuric smoke. "Now," he declared matter-of-factly, "give me that dastardly phone you've got smuggled away and come around the back of the bar, pet."
Masahir sheepishly produced the brick-like communications device of Ulip and passed it over to her temporary fount. She did not bother to question how he already knew of the phone, or of the fact that it belonged to her prior captor. Instead she hopped down from her barstool and did as told, coming around to Damien and accepting his extended hand. He pulled her in close to his side with a firm grasp, then leant down to plant a rewarding kiss upon her awaiting lips, and with a snap of his fingers they were suddenly somewhere very different from the hotel bar.
Here the floor was made of polished dark hardwood, and the walls of exquisitely patterned crimson Victorian wallpaper. Here plush blood hued sofas and ottomans lined the edges of the warm space, playing company to the decadent scarlet satin bed set positioned against the middle wall. Masa recognized this place; it was just one of many pocket-sized dimensions the devil slipped away to when he sought privacy. Damien deposited her on one side of the bed then spun around to fiddle with the bulky phone, his nimble fingers quickly pecking through the menus in silence.
Masa laid on the bed, her dark curls spread around her face and her posture as limp and delicate as a silk ribbon blown about the room before having settled atop the satin sheets. Her large, dark eyes stared into the back of his black tresses with a glassy dissociation. He was going to help her, like he always did when she felt overwhelmed and lost.
Masahir sheepishly produced the brick-like communications device of Ulip and passed it over to her temporary fount. She did not bother to question how he already knew of the phone, or of the fact that it belonged to her prior captor. Instead she hopped down from her barstool and did as told, coming around to Damien and accepting his extended hand. He pulled her in close to his side with a firm grasp, then leant down to plant a rewarding kiss upon her awaiting lips, and with a snap of his fingers they were suddenly somewhere very different from the hotel bar.
Here the floor was made of polished dark hardwood, and the walls of exquisitely patterned crimson Victorian wallpaper. Here plush blood hued sofas and ottomans lined the edges of the warm space, playing company to the decadent scarlet satin bed set positioned against the middle wall. Masa recognized this place; it was just one of many pocket-sized dimensions the devil slipped away to when he sought privacy. Damien deposited her on one side of the bed then spun around to fiddle with the bulky phone, his nimble fingers quickly pecking through the menus in silence.
Masa laid on the bed, her dark curls spread around her face and her posture as limp and delicate as a silk ribbon blown about the room before having settled atop the satin sheets. Her large, dark eyes stared into the back of his black tresses with a glassy dissociation. He was going to help her, like he always did when she felt overwhelmed and lost.
Damien put the phone up to his pointed ear.
He was always helpful, despite the awful things he made her resort to as his price... But it was only fair that she give him what he wanted so that he could give her what she needed, after all, nothing was ever really free. The world at large had taught her that.
"H-hey boss..." The devil began, his voice an eerily accurate mimic of Ulip's.
Everything had a price, you just had to be willing to pay it, and... and for the sake of wiping Cecil Carter out, she was more that willing.
"Sorry about being late- yah, yeah I knows..."
But if she was so ready and willing, why did she feel a horrible tension racking across her ribs and pressing down on her chest?
"Well, maybe yous can talks with one'a ya contacts in the city guard next time, eh boss?"
Why did she feel that tightness in her throat, not unlike a hand reaching up from her soul to strangle her in punishment? She was going to kill someone tonight, after Cho had begged her to not do anything rash. She would have to lie to him again. She huffed out loud in frustration.
"Yah. Yah I got the gal. I'll's tells ya boss, been a hassle keeping the men off her..."
Damien was going to help her. She didn't need to worry, he always made sure to take care of her. He was always good to her, in the end. Now was no time to start doubting his methods when he had proven time and time again to her that he wanted nothing more than to 'see her blossom' during her life. Tonight was hardly any different.
"What's the earliest ya can meet up? We're in the city."
Damien shifted, turning to gaze at Masa and her theatric penchant for star-struck devastation, and flashed her a smile. He slunk over to the bed and sat beside her, his blazing crimson eyes boring into hers as he studied her expression with an otherworldly intensity. His spaded tail tip flicked in morbid excitement, and he ran a pleasurable hand along the inside of her knee.
"Oh, and boss? Maybe don't brings an entire entourage withs ya?"
Masa held his gaze as her countenance relaxed. It was what he wanted. His touch easily beckoned her out of her head and into the palm of his hand.
"Why? Well, I doubts the gal needs much more scarin'! She's as soft as a rose petal by now..."
He liked her compliance and rewarded her with a firm squeeze on her inner thigh. He chuckled as he played the part of her would-be seller and captor. Part of him found it ironic and amusing, she was positive of that. His energy vibrated with a deviously wicked hum.
"Yah... Yah... Mhmm..."
The bemused devil lifted his hand and traced his nails along the diva's cheekbone and jaw.
"Alright. See ya in a few."
Damien hung up and tossed the beater phone on the empty side of the bed and sat up to lean over Masahir, his hellish gaze never faltering from her own. "Oh come now, my rose. I've already gone and done so much for your sake, and yet you still look so utterly devastated by the state of things," he chided mildly, frowning in a show of subtle dramatics.
"It's just... you know... I just..." She sighed, short for breath as she struggled to not tear up. The way he expressed his disappointment and dejection had her stomach in knots. "I'm sorry..."
"I know it may seem distasteful, but I only ask this single thing of you." Damien asserted, half-mindedly playing with one of her many cherry black ringlets the way one might admire a fine wig. "I make myself available to you at a moment's notice. I always do my best to help you out the ways I can."
"I know." Masa sniffled, her hands reflexively reaching out to hold at his arms and side in the urge to be embraced by him. "You know that I love all that you do for me, Damien. Thank you..."
"I'm not asking much of you, my rose." Damien persisted, pinning one of her wrists under his large hand. "Just that you be the one to take action when the moment comes. You'll be doing the world a favor, too. Think of how many lives you'll help to save. Don't you think that protecting that many people is worth a moment's discomfort? It will be like taking a shot, my darling petal. Shocking for a split second, then over with. You're a big girl, I think you can handle that for me."
Masa grinned, all her prior agonizing gone as she put on a more agreeable energy for him. "What if I feel like misbehaving, papi~?" She pressed impishly and reached her free hand up to trace along the edge of his horn.
"Then your master would have to punish you for being so disrespectful to him, pet." He remarked sternly, catching her free wrist and pinning it down to the bed. "I wonder if you would be able to survive a month without the comforts of my touch..."
Masahir gasped. "No, you wouldn't be so mean to me, would you~?"
"Depends on how poorly you behave yourself, my rose~" Damien pulled back and stood up, easily pulling Masahir along up to her feet. He held to her wrist and elbow, holding her firmly in place amidst his grasp despite her utter lack of fuss or fight-back. "Trust me when I say that dealing with Him will put your precious mind to ease. Now it is time for you to be the savior you've dreamed of being."
With a snap of his infernal fingers they once more vanished in a tuft of black smoke.