Roleplay City
Administration => Infusco Archives => Archives => Old Roleplays => Topic started by: Saiketsu on August 10, 2019, 08:13:12 AM
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When Zoheret left the Luminary building, the black Jaguar she had arrived in was parked in the closest parking space out front, waiting for her. Her driver stepped out of the front seat with the beginnings of sleep in his beautiful amber eyes and circled around the outside of the car obediently.
"Jesús, darling, I need a drink," she told him with the slightest twinge of exhaustion breaking into her voice, massaging her temples with one finger from each hand.
"Anywhere in particular, Madam?" She caught a glimmer of his concern for her as his professional expression wavered. Any other night it would have bothered her to see a falter in such decorum and she would have considered saying something nasty to him about it. He opened the back door to the car for her and extended his hand for her to use should she need it upon stepping in. Instead of meeting him with scorn, she placed her hand in his proffered one and cast a last annoyed glance back at the building, her thoughts on the conversation with Ben.
She turned her attention back to the human and smiled wanly at his care. "Somewhere these vampires won't bother me for the rest of the night." Zoheret tucked herself into the backseat of the car, putting her bag on the leather next to her. She pulled out her phone, turned the ringer back on and began flicking through emails and messages that had come in during the meeting.
Typically she scheduled work for herself right up until about ten or eleven in the evening, knowing that the creatures who slept the day away in the Northwest needed access to her as well. One of the perks of being the Dark Angel Oligarch had been that her kind was prone to sleeping like humans, and so she could keep business hours at a more approachable time. Now that her constituents were all of different species to herself, she attempted to make herself more available to them all while still maintaining something resembling a normal sleep schedule. When she looked at the time, she noted that only a couple of hours had passed since she had first arrived at the building, her meeting with Ben taking less than twenty minutes as she expected it to. At almost twenty to ten, she considered her job done for the night. No doubt the staff at Attica Villa would be preparing their bags and filing the last of their reports before she arrived, ready for the night to be done.
"Just drive for now," she bade Jesús, locking her phone and leaning against the tinted window, her elbow on the top of the moulded panel where it met the glass, supporting her hand against her temple. A tension headache pulsed dully beneath her fingers, the muscles needlessly knotted despite how she rubbed at them.
The city passed darkly before her, the street lamps of Central pooling yellowly upon ugly gray buildings, graffitied brick, crumbling concrete walkways. She closed her eyes and thought about both meetings that had taken place with a renewed sense of frustration.
Ben Samson had started that joke of a meeting barring his soul and expecting them, the District Leaders, to follow him like they had once followed Kerr Galvin as the Luminary. He was demanding, emotional, and hasty in the pursuit of his goals and had come into the room hot, instructing them of their jobs and the topics they needed to discuss. While Zoheret had been expecting the young vampire to bring up the election, she had not expected such a bombardment of demands and expectations as Ben had proposed. And as if it had effected the air in the room, Saraekiel made an absolute fool of himself in front of all the others while McCloud had actually played his hand decently well. Sabrina had been the only one to act even semi-predictably and that was mostly because she was so unfamiliar with the witch that she had no idea what to expect besides some distasteful peacekeeping. Charon had even proved that he was not immune to the ridiculousness of that meeting, snatching McCloud's phone and crushing it. The message had been clear to her anyway; that McCloud had burned yet another potential ally. The Oligarchy had been much easier and she regretted its dissolution immensely, which only added to her bitterness. And then she had to go and coddle Ben Samson's hurt feelings, fueled by the the thought of Jake McCloud retaining his position as Central District Leader. She rolled her eyes at the memory of it all.
Her shoulders were heavy but her mind raced. She was could feel her goals slipping through her fingers, a sensation that too resembled the fall of the Oligarchy and the scrabbling land grab in the whirlpool of chaos accompanied it. This election was going to be a nightmare.
She remembered sitting in Chtahzus'aak's office discussing this very occurrence with masked disdain. Now that it had come to pass, she wondered vaguely what he actually thought about the whole event. He had spoken three sentences, choosing the smartest option of sitting and watching them all. She had noted his silence next to her - and was thankful it was between McCloud and herself the entire night - and meant to inquire about it before the idea of meeting with Ben had occurred to her.
So instead she picked up her cell phone and dialed the number for the Block. Surely, a shadow demon could travel quicker than a car at night, and he was already back in his fortress surrounded by his demon army. After two rings, the receptionist that had scheduled her prior appointment picked up, offering a canned greeting on Zeus' behalf.
"I'd like to talk directly with Chtahzus'aak, please."
"And who may I ask is calling?"
She smiled. "Zoheret."
"Oh." At her name there was an audible change in the girl's voice as she said, "Just one moment, please. I'll see if he's in."
As she waited on hold, she looked down at her nail polish, noticing a minute chip in the aubergine pigment of her index finger on her left hand. She frowned and examined it closer. Just one more disappointment for the night.
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Chtahzus'aak factually relayed the details of the meeting to Brael as they moved through the shadows of the city back into the West district at a casual pace. He couldn't decide what he was more surprised about: McCloud's utter silence throughout the duration of the meeting, Samson's little tantrum, Saraekiel's posturing, or the shattering of the Brat Prince's phone. It was an enlightening meeting leaving much to digest. There were many things he wished to discuss with his companion in the shadows but decided the security of his compound to be the most private. The inner-most workings of his mind were not to be exposed into the air of central. Besides, he had yet to piece things together himself.
He did mention that Sabrina would be coming by tomorrow afternoon to research the Tess issue--and that perhaps Brael's assistance would be invaluable.
Flying over the city would've been a preferable way to release tension--but the moonlit sky forced him to stick to the shadows. He found his mind wandering back to Lan Bao and Chinatown--and what she had to do with McCloud. Well, it briefly lingered on that but strayed to the night they'd spent together during the Lantern Festival. The memory of fucking her well into the evening produced a wicked smirk that remained, more or less, until they reached the entrance to the compound. The demonic sigils responded to his approach and the way was open until they crossed through the threshold. The comforting familiarity of being home began to creep into his tension.
Well, until the demon at the front desk looked up and motioned at the phone. "District Leader Zoheret is on hold." He sighed heavily and looked to Brael with a weary smile.
"Patch it through to my office," he took a brisk pace to the elevator, going directly to the second floor.
Shedding his jacket and undoing the first few buttons of his charcoal shirt, Zeus sat at his desk with an exhale and picked up the phone.
"Yes?" There was a tired edge to his voice, but it was overall open and polite.
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"I have just had the most fascinating conversation with Ben Samson," she boasted, fixing her lipstick in a compact mirror that she kept in her handbag. Zoheret rolled her lips together, evenly distributing the color as she paused for effect. "Are there any demon bars where I can buy you a drink or a human soul and tell you all about it?" She smiled and wiped at the corners of her mouth before dabbing her lips delicately with a tissue to absorb the excess. Zoheret figured that such a bit of information would pique the shadow demon's paranoid interest.
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With an eye-roll and a smirk, Chtahzus'aak leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the desk.
"A politically-sensitive conversation out in public at a bar?" He laughed, "Zoheret, I thought you were smarter than that." Regardless of the fact that he'd explicitly warned McCloud against having any of his people in the West District, there wasn't anything stopping the citizens from traveling to other districts carrying with them whatever they overheard. He wasn't exactly an unknown individual anymore.
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She shrugged off the jest, finding it as amusing as it was annoying. "What, you don't have a cloak of secrecy over the entire West District yet? I thought you had everything under control over there." Zoheret smiled again as she threw a playful barb back. "I don't particularly care where we go, as long as I can get a drink and be as far away from Ben Samson and Jake McCloud as possible."
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Cloak of secrecy, he scoffed, biting back a more sarcastic return.
"Well, lucky for you my schedule for the evening is clear--should you like to make an appointment."
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She openly scoffed at his comment about the schedule, remained smiling. "Make an appointment?" She said incredulously, not actually believing he was serious, though lacking the experience with his humor to know for sure. "To meet with you for drinks tonight? You're ridiculous." Her tone may have been hauty, but there was humor not far from the surface, inviting a similarly spirited response. It was the first time since she left Attica Villa that evening that she was actually rather enjoying herself. "Where am I meeting you?"
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His laugh was a low rumble and he was glad that she had the capacity for humor after the meeting.
Ruffled feathers.
"You know where to find me." Chtahzus'aak smiled widely and waited for her to begin to reply before hanging up the phone.
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She scoffed again, finding the idea of meeting him at his compound trite. Of course he wanted to meet at the Block, the paranoid fool. He never left the damn Block! Heaven forbid he leave the shelter of his cement cube and go out into the city that he was governing and actually relax for a damn minute...
"Are you actually sugges--" The line went dead and the phone beeped in her ear to indicate the end. Stunned, she closed her compact to look at the device to ensure that what she thought had happened had actually just happened. He had hung up on her! She couldn't remember the last time someone had actually hung up on her. No one hung up on her. Zoheret huffed again in her indignation and tossed her phone onto the seat next to her in resignation.
"Men," she muttered under her breath, massaging her temple again, trying to decide. "Jesús," she demanded after a minute or so, "drive to the Block, please." She spent the remainder of her ride staring angrily out the window and reading news articles about a world falling apart.
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The demon that walked her from the car to the front of the Block was disconcertingly tall and in his natural form. Jesús looked at him with obvious discomfort but Zoheret played a better role at ignoring the oddity of the demon, too focused on chewing Chtahzus'aak's head off for being so rude. She didn't bother hiding her wings once she was inside, instead taking advantage of the spacious interior by stretching her wings to their fullest height once she was beyond the doorway. A few demons looked on in wonder as she closed them tightly against her back, but no one made eye contact with her.
Zoheret hardly waited to be invited anywhere, but took to the path down to Chtahzus'aak's office, allowing whatever escort he sent for her follow in her wake. Her stilettos echoed against the marble floors as she made her way towards the elevator, where another demon in human form stepped out of the way and let her into the cab without saying a word. She pressed the button for the second floor and hit the button to make the doors close, shutting the lobby out of view.
When the doors parted again, she saw him standing in his office doorway. He hadn't changed since the meeting, but had removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. There was something dashing about his casual lean against the doorframe, two glasses of amber liquor in his hands like some kind of offering. It almost made her smirk. Instead she pursed her lips and raised her eyebrow at him. She approached him with her shoulders back and a slight sway in her hips, her wings relaxing in a semi-unfolded position behind her, staining the hallway bloody as she sauntered annoyed down the brightly lit hallway.
"You're an ass, do you know that?" There was a strong air of annoyance as she approached him and seized the glass of whiskey from him, walking by the demon into his office without waiting for an invitation. "Heaven forbid you leave this wretched building," Zoheret murmured to herself as she looked around at the room again.
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His eyes rolled once she went past him into the office. "Make yourself comfortable," he muttered under his breath as the door closed with a soft click behind him.
"I do leave," his tone mirrored hers, though he hid a smirk behind a sip from his glass. "It isn't exactly smart to talk politics now out in the open." Chtahzus'aak crossed over to the couches and sat on the arm of one, facing her. "But I won't lecture you." He smiled pleasantly, swirling the amber liquid around in the glass.
"What was so fascinating about your conversation with Samson?" He feigned casual interest, though in actuality it was more than that, examining the cling of liquid to the inside of the glass in his hand.
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She ignored his comments, feeling well within her rights to disregard his insulting tone after he needlessly hung up on her. Instead, Zoheret wandered about his office at a slow pace, looking at the things he kept on surfaces, the hideous gargoyles that guarded his desk. She ran her fingers over the dark stained wood of his desk, noting the meticulous neatness of it. Everything had a place, a purpose. Tastefully minimal and macabre. It brought a smirk to her lips as she took a sample sip of the whiskey.
"You have a good taste in whiskey," she decided out loud without looking at him, still admiring the little plants on the bookshelves. She perused the titles of the books, many of the tomes decorated with markings she didn't know. She had been on Earth since just after the time of Jesus of Nazareth and had seen all manner of writing come to be, all sorts of scribbles and scratchings from the humans. Many of them she could read - or had read before, the languages long forgotten now - and yet he had a significant amount of writings that she couldn't even discern the titles. A curious thing. She stroked some of the spines with her delicate fingers, tempted to pull one out and glance through. What would he do if she decided to do so? Would he stop her? Scold her? Remove the book from her hands and tell her to leave?
"What is it?" Zoheret finally looked at the demon, amused again at his casual lounge on the arm of the couch. She was learning an awful lot about the District Leader already. She didn't bother to smile at him, but raised her glass and took another, larger sip, tasting vanilla, cinnamon, smoke of caramel but lacking all the traditional sweetness in favor of a deep wood flavor that grounded and based the drink. She felt no burn of alcohol, though the evaporation lingered savory on her tongue and lips as she held his dark gaze. "The whiskey."
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Chtahzus'aak watched her move about the office in silence, indifferent to the fact that she hadn't answered his question and intensely interested in what she was examining. There was the suggestion of a raised eyebrow in the slightest wrinkle on his forehead as her back was to him. Was this some sort of test? What game was she playing?
Did she actually speak with Samson or was that a ruse to catch him unawares?
At the mention of his choice of drink, he sipped, gaze following her fingers on his collection of books. Still quiet he waited, discontent growing marginally the longer she avoided answering what he'd asked. Clearly, it was trivial enough to warrant a delay, and he was beginning to wonder if she'd come just to waste his time. Zeus would not be baited into repeating himself only to have her ignore him again. He had patience--to an extent.
After another sip, he set the glass down and crossed his arms over his chest. "Blue Label." His eyes remained steadily fixed on her, expression reading nothing but watchful.
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As soon as he answered her question she smirked and responded to his inquiry. "I went up to his penthouse directly after the meeting to determine why he felt so inclined to act like he was the next Luminary when his only claim to power was the man sleeping in his bed." Zoheret looked into the glass and took another sip. She would have to look into getting this whiskey.
"Did you know that Ben Samson is single-handedly funding the City Ward at the moment?" Chtahzus'aak was a smart man. Surely he had caught that little tidbit of information at the meeting. But just in case, she put the first piece down in front of him "He used them to send out those summons to collect us all like school children so we could learn about his election." She smirked. "That's a fine use of resources I would say, wouldn't you? Considering he is a private citizen still?" The second piece.
"I informed him that he had no jurisdiction nor authority to use the Ward for his own personal use." She put the glass to her lips and paused, adding "In private, of course." Zoheret took her next sip smiling.
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If Chtahzus'aak was surprised by anything she said, he wouldn't have shown it.
Did you spank him, too? With a dry smirk, he resisted this reflexive reply borne from a gnawing sense of impatience. He wanted to ask what her point was, as he'd yet to hear anything fascinating and she was doing an excellent job at dragging the entire ordeal out as long as possible.
"And did he whine as much as he did in the meeting?" Zeus' tone was playful, lips holding the same smirk.
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"Of course he did," Zoheret answered, turning her attention back to the bookcase, toying with one of the large succulents, with puffy sprouts fanning out in a circle the size of her fist. The leaves were plump and the soil seemed very slightly damp as if it had been freshly watered. The dark angel rolled her lips in to suppress a sneer directed at the shadow demon, the image of him watering this little plants himself too effeminate and humorous to compete with this image of gruffness he displayed.
"He still thinks that his honesty is going to be the thing that gets him elected over McCloud and doesn't understand why we were so hard on him." She looked back up at Zeus, the amusement settled on her features and added with an exaggerated pout, "After all, he's just trying to help people like him."
The dark angel sighed and twittered her wings, tossing back a mouthful of liquor and emptying the glass. The flavor almost overwhelmed her senses and she closed her eyes as she swallowed, crafted eyebrows arching upwards. The alcohol warmed her in the most delightful way, ebbing out from her center without much of a sting. She made her way over to where Chtahzus'aak sat on the arm of the cream colored sofa, seating herself comfortably on the opposite one, upright, her legs straight on the couch and ankles crossed so that both of her heels managed to remain off of the couch. The white dress that she wore still kept her modest, sliding up only to just over mid-thigh.
"He's at the very least not interested in dropping out of the election, though he did seem a bit reluctant to accept why we had voted with McCloud." She draped her arm over the back of the couch and kept the glass dangling from her hand closest to Zeus, content with it remaining empty for now, though she wouldn't refuse him if he should want to fill it again.
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He watched her continue to touch his things with a frown playing across his lips while her back was to him. Her arrogance and posturing were rather transparent and it wouldn't win him over if that was her intention. His gaze flicked briefly up to the corner of the room before falling on her wings. He doubted she would like it if he decided to let his own "glamour" drop--would it terrify her? When she turned to face him, he suppressed his smirk as thoughts of her horror-filled visage filled his mind, and mirrored her expression of amusement.
"Huh." The demon took his glass from the table and sipped it. People like him. Yes, the vampires certainly looked after their own. Unless they were wrestling for territory. With a subtly darkening expression, he watched the dark angel finish her glass and settle herself onto the couch. His eyes didn't linger on her, though they did glance over her form before he turned his attention to her empty glass.
Chtahzus'aak crossed the room and plucked the Johnnie Walker bottle from his desk. "Good," he moved fluidly over to the couch she chose to lounge on. "If he were disheartened this early in the process I'd wonder if he had the stamina to run a district." There was humor in his voice as he poured her a nice full glass. After depositing the bottle on the table by the other couch, and he sat comfortably and crossed one ankle over the opposite knee.
"It is rather charitable of him to be funding the Ward, isn't it?" his tone was suggestive as he peered into his half-filled glass, swirling it slowly. After a moment he looked up at her with an unreadable expression.
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She lifted the glass as he approached her with the bottle, eyeing him with a touch of suspicion as he poured her a double without prompting. She doubted the liquor was cheap or that she had done something to deserve such service - though she appreciated the gesture for the simple act of what it was. Zoheret took a sip and noticed that he didn't add any to his own glass.
"I'm not sure 'charitable' is the word that I would use first," she mused out loud. " 'Righteous', perhaps. 'Idiotic', even. If McCloud were even a touch smarter, he would launch an investigation against Ben Samson, just to frustrate him." Zoheret had serious doubts about Ben's ability to run a district. Certainly there was heart and ambition there, but there was also that annoying naivety that had no place in politics, a banner which he refused to release. It was what made him such an easy target.
"Samson is not good at keeping his mouth shut about information that he shouldn't have." Her gaze fell out of focus across the room as she thought. "You should keep him out of whatever dark, paranoid scheme you're planning." She looked back at Chtahzus'aak and whet her lips.
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Chtahzus'aak narrowed his eyes. He wasn't paranoid. Careful? Yes. Strategic? Always. He never expected anyone else to understand, nor did he much care. Her implications that he was planning anything at all were interesting. She knew next to nothing about what went on in his head.
"Are you in favor of McCloud keeping his throne in Central, then?" The glass briefly tipped against his lips to deposit a small taste.
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Zoheret scoffed at him. "Don't be ridiculous." The thought made her inwardly cringe. Of the two vampires, she would have much preferred Ben, who at least had some sense of decorum and a master who knew how to be respectful of other species besides his own. Neither one of them were in this game for self gain, at least not that she could see. They were respectable, gullible fools who could be pushed aside should the need arise. It had happened once before, hadn't it. Zoheret took a small mouthful of her beverage and allowed it to linger this time, the spirit tickling her nose.
Chtahzus'aak drank his small sip, barely taking any from his original glass. She noticed this and eyed him wearily. Alcohol had never had the same dampening effects on her as it did mortals and for some reason she needed to drink almost twice as much as a human in order to feel its effects, making her a truly expensive drinking partner. Annoyed, she swivelled and placed her feet on the floor between them, reaching for the bottle as she did so. The dark angel uncapped the liquor and tipped the rest of the bottle into Chtahzus'aak's glass, filling the glass with a little more than a double shot of expensive whiskey, despite whatever protest or expression of indignation he decided to give her because of it.
"I told you we were having drinks," she explained with a smirk, capping the empty bottle and placing it back on the table closest to her. "That means multiple... For you as well." She raised an eyebrow at him and settled herself back into the same upright lounging position on the couch, her knees bent a little more now. "Relax," she commanded playfully. "If you still feel a way about it tomorrow, I'll send you a fresh bottle."
She took a sip of her own drink and changed the subject back to the politics at hand. "Samson asked me if I would help him, should the need arise." She arched an eyebrow at the demon when he looked at her.
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Chtahzus'aak found her assumptions about his drinking pace being due to some sort of frugality deeply amusing. His expression said as much, but he made no effort to correct her. It was telling that she'd caused such a fuss about it in the first place--as far as what the reaction told, he wasn't entirely certain. Yet.
While her command was in jest, he disliked being told what to do. For now he'd play along, taking a proper mouthful this time while keeping a steady eye on her.
"And will you?" With his elbow propped on the armrest, he shifted so that both feet were on the floor and perched his head atop the palm of his hand.
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"That depends on a great many things," she replied, watching him drink with a pleased expression. What a terrible drinking partner he was. Perhaps Jesus was the better option. She thought of the empty bottle and the slowness of Zeus' consumption, the stiff casual-faced questions delivered with the same mask as he used on her the first time she was here. At least with Jesus, she would have an actual conversation, the human flushing with his attraction to her. "I have no intention of holding his hand, but if he requested something from me I would consider it as long as it got McCloud out of office at the end of the day."
"The last time I was here, you asked me a question in that serious voice of yours." She playfully mocked the depth and bass of his voice, a smile relaxing easily in her lips. "You asked me what I wanted to see done about McCloud's presence and influence in this city. Do you remember?"
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Of course, he remembered. That and the peculiar way she stood over him just before leaving.
"Do you intend to answer me this time?" A slow-spreading smile graced his lips as he tipped half the contents of his glass into his mouth. "Or will you insist on remaining a tease?" While there was nothing but good humor in his tone, Zeus leveled a challenging gaze at her.
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Her eyes narrowed on him, trying to dig deeper into the meaning behind that expression. She was well versed in practices of manipulation, particularly the ones that her divinity afforded her. She had been created perfectly and part of her perfection was capturing the hearts and thoughts of men who fell in her path. Chtahzus'aak, however, had so far shone that he was impervious to her charms - well, mostly. But that comment that he had made as he drank, appeasing her, that beguiling smile...
"Or will you insist on remaining a tease?"
It caught her off guard to be called a tease by him, though she was surprisingly enthused by his sudden playfulness. She switched the positioning of her legs, uncrossing and crossing them again as she answered his challenge, watching his gaze carefully. "Isn't it obvious? I want him out of Central and preferably out of the city altogether." She didn't specify how she wanted that to happen or which state she wanted McCloud to be in when his body was dragged out. Zoheret smiled.
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That much was obvious. Zeus chuckled and shook his head. They both knew that the question he'd asked in their last meeting begged for more detail than she, evidently, was willing to give.
"Why bring my question up now?" He was still expecting her to come to some sort of a point, but the longer they spoke the more it seemed as though she just wanted to talk. Not that he could trust her enough to rule out any ulterior motives, even if she had invited him out for drinks. Technically anyway.
He didn't exactly peg her as the social type.
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"You have a plan to unseat him," she remarked, pointing a finger at him casually before taking another small sip. "Or the beginnings of one. And don't tell me you don't."
She didn't know him well. They were not friends or allies or anything else. They were co-workers, for lack of a better word. But what she did know from watching the way he conducted himself, the fortified lair, the smoothness of his organization... She knew that he was a thinker, a schemer. There were cameras all over the property. Did he think that she hadn't noticed? The books on his shelf - The Art of War, The Prince, Wujing Zongyao - the neatness of his office, his silence at the meeting... It all pointed at the same thing to her: not only was he a paranoid, controlling beast, but that there was something he was after in his apparent neutrality. One didn't simply take back the West and then remain neutral on its behalf. Not with that many war books on his shelves.
Zoheret shifted her legs again, sitting straight with one foot on the floor, legs crossed at her knee comfortably, the white dress exposing more skin on her thighs. She reclined into the back of the sofa with a smirk, her wings untucking themselves and draping themselves over the back of the couch. With eyes alight, she finally brought up the real reason for her visits. "I want to know what it is."
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Chtahzus'aak raised an eyebrow. "Interesting assumption," he hid a smirk behind another sip.
"If you had some elaborate plan, would you be telling me just because I've asked nicely?" he glanced at her before examining what remained of the whiskey in his glass.
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Zoheret watched as the demon finished his glass, tossing back the last of the liquor. His smirking words lit a smoldering pain of hatred in her chest. "It depends on how nicely you asked and how much you hated McCloud."
Frustration and weariness peaking into her expression as he played with her. "Chtahzus'aak," she began in an almost patronizing tone, sitting a little taller as she held onto her temperament. "There is no one in this city that wants to see Jake McCloud dethroned more than I do. Not even yourself. If McCloud gets re-elected, he will be excruciatingly difficult to unseat, even with the damage he has done in the West.
"What plausible reason would I have to betray your confidence? Because I am a dark angel and not one of your demons?" She made a small flicking motion with her wrist at the wall with a general emphasis. Had she not proven that they were of the same conviction tonight?
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Zeus chuckled, shaking his head as he placed the empty glass on the table. Did she really think gaining his trust was as simple as sharing the same enemy? With his arms resting lightly on his knees, the demon leveled a playfully serious gaze at her.
"For one thing-" Chtahzus'aak frowned, confusion chasing the smugness out of his expression. There was the sudden taste of copper in his mouth and the distinct sound of his name as if someone were yelling from a room down the hall. This was followed shortly by the sound of rushing wind.
Not again! But how? He had only enough time to give Zoheret a truly apologetic look before his form appeared to be sucked into itself, leaving behind nothing but an empty space. (http://www.roleplaycity.com/forum/index.php?topic=7443.msg93920#msg93920)
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She was prepared for his tone, for his rebukes, his denial, even his defensiveness. There was a cool smirk on her lips as he began to respond. But what she was not prepared for was his sudden disappearance. Zoheret blinked at the empty space which had - not seconds ago - been her pathetic excuse for a drinking partner. An array of reactions played across her countenance, the most significant of which being annoyance.
"Chtahzus'aak." This was surely some demon trick. Her eyes darted around the room, figuring that the District Leader was posturing or showing off or something like that. She remained patient, waiting for this game of his to end and for Zeus to reappear. When long seconds passed and her confusion grew, she looked around at the shadows in the room, questioning him again with much less certainty. Still no response from him. Nothing in the shadows of his office moved and she could feel no other presence with her in the room. Perhaps he was invisible? No, that wasn't right. She would be able to sense another living creature in the room.
Had he just left?
"This isn't funny, you beast." She scowled at the office and leaned around to check his office again for any hint as to what just happened. "Demons," she murmured coldly, expecting that if he were still in the room, that would get some kind of reaction.
Still nothing.
With an indignant huff, Zoheret stood and placed her glass on the table next to the empty bottle, eyeing the space on the couch where Zeus had been, still unconvinced that this wasn't some ploy. She crossed the office to the desk, leaning against it as she gazed around the room from a different angle for several minutes. "Fine," she seethed. Clearly he didn't want to be in her company if this was how he wanted to act. With anger evident in the clicking of her heels, she went for the door and pulled it open. With a second thought, Zoheret turned back to the table and tossed back the rest of her drink before depositing the empty glass, with a bright pinkish lipstick mark, on the middle of his desk. She spun on her heel and headed back out of his office and down the hallway to the elevator.
All of the doors in the hallway were now closed, a detail she had failed to note when she had first come down here. She paid all the other doors no mind and headed straight for the double steel doors of the elevator. Zoheret jabbed at the button and looked up expectantly. Nothing happened. She waited another moment before giving the summoning button another jab. Still nothing.
"You can't be serious." She taped the button repeatedly until it became clear that there was no service in the blasted thing. "Zeus!" She called out, slamming a hand against the doors with a resounding ring. Nothing. Zoheret spun and stormed back to his office muttering under her breath.
In his office, she tried to place a call on his desk phone, only to find that the damn thing didn't seem to be connected. She slammed that down and sat in his chair with a huff, trying to figure out what to do. So she was trapped there until he came back or until the receptionist realized she was there? Fantastic. She could see the rest of his staff now, giggling in the shadows about how she was stuck there. Zoheret took a swipe at the things on his desk, sending a stapler, a paperweight, and some papers skittering across the room, the action doing nothing for her rage.
-
The wall just off to the right of the desk groaned and shifted back, sliding to the left to reveal an opening heralded by the unmistakable roar of wind through a tight passage. The shadow of Zeus' demon form emerged from the opening of the glass column behind the wall, stepping into human skin as the column sealed itself behind him. His shoulders sagged, weariness written plainly on his features as he entered the office.
There was much to digest (http://www.roleplaycity.com/forum/index.php?topic=7496.0) and the last person, besides McCloud, that he wanted to deal with had been trapped in his office for just under half an hour.
He didn't spare Zoheret a look, registering vaguely that several things from his desk were on the floor. Childish.
"My apologies," his tone was genuine, but deeply agitated. "I just had a run-in with the fucking necromancer." He loosened the top buttons of his shirt and headed straight for the bottle of whiskey they had just been sharing. Of course, he'd forgotten it was empty and held the bottle up to verify it with a scowl.
-
Her rage at being trapped had burned hot in her chest for all of ten minutes after he left. Her cell phone had no service and - of course - she didn't have any way of getting access to her usual distractions. Resigned to her fate, she had planned on casually rifling through his things as revenge for locking her in his office like some kind of prisoner. But as she sat at his desk and pulled on the handles for the drawers, she was met with an impossible resistance that went against logic. She tried each drawer, pulling to see if it would open - with no success. Yet she had just watched Zeus open the bottom one with a single finger to retrieve a bottle of whiskey. There must have been some kind of demon magic at play in his office, which explained why nothing was working for her!
The one drawer that was not protected by magic had been full of mundane office supplies - staples, paper clips, spare rolls of tape. In frustration she slammed it shut with a resounding metallic clunk and leaned back in his office chair.
By the time the passage in the wall opened and Chtahzus'aak reformed himself, Zoheret was half-way into the book, flipping idly through the pages as if simply looking at the strange words satisfied her curiosity. Her shoes were off and had been kicked aside somewhere under his desk at which she sat. She sat sideways in the large chair, bending at the knee and folding herself up on the chair, her heels tucked against her thighs, her temple reclined on the padding where the neck would land. Her white dress had slid dangerously high on her thighs, revealing the beginnings of a curve to her butt, and would have revealed more to the room had her legs not been folded - not that it mattered, being trapped alone. With one of those mysterious books from his library shelf laying against her bent knees, Zoheret had resigned herself to bored distraction. Every now and then she hummed a song whose lyrics she had forgotten, or fluttered the pages to look at the gorgeous script of the letters.
When the wall slid open, her heart jumped with fear and her anger rekindled as soon as his features came back into physical space, though with a colder, sharper edge.
"What? What... necromancer?" Zoheret stared hard at him as he crossed the room, dropping her legs smoothly to the floor and readjusting her clothing to cover more real estate, disappearing under the shadow of the desk. She hoped he hadn't noticed. "One moment you're here, the next I'm alone, trapped in your office?!" She held her thumb in the place where she had finished a page and hung the book and hand off the arm of the chair. As he undid the first few buttons of his shirt, she looked at him puzzled.
-
Chtahzus'aak, bottle in hand, stared at the dark angel in open disbelief.
"Tess. The witch - the one we'd just spoken about at the meeting." His words carried an edge of impatience and frustration. "She broke into the Museum in the South, Sabrina intercepted her there and there was an altercation." He glanced again at his things on the floor, then back to Zoheret.
"Sabrina summoned me there, after suffering grave injury, and this Tess managed to escape." Sorry for making you wait for a precious half-hour, he thought bitterly with a scowl.
-
The irritation in his tone felt like some kind of warning. It was the most open she had ever seen him, his annoyance - or was that anger? - and weariness plain to see. The cold, calculating mask that he wore seemed too much now in his current state. It both unsettled and intrigued her.
She had to think about the name and was herself annoyed at him for using that tone on her. "Tess?" As she put the pieces together from the context, she chills ran along the backs of her arms. "You mean Thesdea Thane?" It was less a question and more a clarification. She couldn't remember hearing the name 'Tess' before. As he explained what had actually happened, Zoheret began to understand the situation and her anger cooled considerably. She stood up from his chair and looked at the liquor bottle in Chtahzus'aak's hand.
So he had been summoned by Sabrina? Zoheret was unfamiliar with the entirety of the summoning process, having never been around them for long enough to see one happen. Certainly, she knew about them and knew that a demon couldn't fight a summoning. But the suddenness of his disappearance and the lockdown left her in an array of confusion. How the hell was she supposed to know what had happened? Especially when he could descend into shadows at any given moment.
"What happened?" She asked firmly, but not impatiently, slipping back into a professional mindset and tone. The dark angel folded her arms over her chest. "Why was she at the Museum?"
-
"The necromancer was after some sort of scroll." He stated off briefly, recalling what detail Sabrina had filled in. "She has it now. No telling what it's for."
Chtahzus'aak crossed over to the far end of his desk, went around to the back and pulled open a drawer. "Why hasn't this museum been combed for magical artefacts in the first fucking place?" With an agitated sigh he slammed the drawer closed and opened another. "We really should send someone who can check." Slam. Zeus went to the other end of the desk, passing very close to her, and pulled open another drawer. "Massive fucking security risk." He muttered before slamming the drawer shut.
Finally giving up his search, Zeus sighed and placed the empty bottle down on the desk. "I have more of this downstairs," his words quick breathless agitation, "if you'd like to continue this conversation."
-
She took a step away from the desk as he approached in order to give him room to access his own desk as he spoke. Somehow, he had still managed to invade her space enough to allow her feel the heat from his skin, the moving air of his motions of searching as it fluttered her hair. She stood silently, watching him, realizing with a smirk that her shoes were still under the desk where she had left them.
His cursing caught her off-guard, the brutish slamming of the drawers so close to her, those buttons at the top of his shirt undone. The great facade of Chtahzus'aak was faltering. It was a fascinating glimpse that she never expected and Zoheret knew enough to stay silent and keep watching, resisting the urge to smirk at the demon's frustration. Perhaps she would get the answer to the question she asked before he had been so rudely summoned away. It was certainly the most worked up she had ever seen him in all of their time knowing each other.
With the tables turned, Chtahzus'aak now hunting for a drink, she could have laughed. At his offer, she gave him a shrug and a flick of her arm in an indifferent gesture and a subdued huff. Apparently it took a witch fight to get Zeus in the appropriate drinking mood. She wasn't about to pass up the opportunity now, not while she was on the edge of getting more information out of him. Being trapped in his office and consequently denied the ability to do anything at all left her very much in the mood to drink. A vengeful search for more liquor had been her ultimate goal in hunting through his desk, an apparently fruitless venture anyway. "Well, do we know what the scroll was even for? Did Sabrina tell you that much?"
Not for the first time she wished he were human, or that she at least had the ability to read him like one. He was clearly aggravated, but she doubted it was because of the lack of whiskey upon his return from saving another District Leader from peril (what a hero, she thought sourly). He had been in a calm enough mood when he was sucked away, even going as far as to laugh at her pushing for answers. All of a sudden he was in some sorry state - because of the escape of some necromancer who wasn't even within his district? Zoheret naturally assumed he was either manic with his tempers or there was something that she was missing. To ask him now would only provoke that mask to slip back into place. And watching him struggle was so very fun.
-
Briskly he led her to the door of his office, holding it open for her to walk through before closing it behind them. To her question, he sighed through his nose, lips pressed tightly together. Many details needed to be acquired, and Sabrina would no doubt be sending someone to investigate. The room the scroll was housed had been trashed, details about the exhibit would have to wait until they were open to reach any curators.
"No, she didn't." The hallway leading to the elevator was as dim and empty as it had been when Zoheret walked through earlier. The doors opened at their approach, without the need to press the call button, and he waited inside for her to enter before pressing his finger to the number twelve. With a loud exhale, he leaned against the back of the elevator with his arms crossed over his chest as they descended rapidly.
-
Swiftly, she bent under the desk and nabbed her heels from the floor, peeved that she had just gotten comfortable out of them and now she needed to be back in them. Zoheret slipped into them easily, loosely threading the ankle strap so that they would remain attached to her feet without being too much of a hassle. They easily gave her an extra five inches of height, something that she found important while dealing with men who would typically tower over her - Zeus included. As Chtahzus'aak held the door open, she finished, grabbed her purse, and walked through, pulling off to the side as he closed the door so he would lead them wherever it was he was intending.
She followed the demon as he led the way to the elevator that wasn't working. She nearly told him so with a huff, and even had her lips parted to inform him - when the doors magically slid open and welcomed him like a lover. With her mouth open, she scoffed and gaped at the ease of his access, hesitating angrily before stepping inside the cabin.
"What is it with this place? It only works when you're in it?" She scowled at him and mimicked his behavior, noticing the small smirk that pulled the corners of his mouth up as he looked at her wordlessly, clearly enjoying her dismay despite his foul mood. Zoheret ran a hand through her hair, finding the panel of buttons far more interesting than his reaction to her anyway.
For the first time, she actually noticed how many floors there were in the Block - at least how many had elevator access. When she had first looked upon the Block from the outside, it had been underwhelming and dull, a cement cube jutting out of a hillock. Much like its owner, it lacked style and creative expression and life. She had rolled her eyes at it. Now as the elevator swiftly descended, the wind moving around the cabin, she wondered what on Earth he needed thirteen floors for. Certainly, this was the demon's headquarters, his home. But what else was down here? How deep into the Earth did this cement cube go... and why? Zoheret cast him a questioning glance just as the lift slowed to a stop and the doors opened, her thoughts on the matter dropping immediately.
When he had said that he had more liquor downstairs, Zoheret had naturally assumed that he meant some wine cellar or liquor room. Maybe a kitchen, or cafeteria-esque structure where the rest of his demon hoard gathered and ate. She wouldn't have even been surprised - after seeing they were headed for the twelfth floor - if he was heading towards some kind of restaurant or bar. With difficulty she tried to keep her eyebrows from disappearing into her hairline, another scoff rising in her throat, suppressed only by her sheer surprise. By the time she threw a very confused look in his direction, Zeus had already entered the hallway and began removing his shoes.
Zoheret stood staring down the hallway into what was very clearly living quarters. And they were undoubtedly Chtahzus'aak's judging by the size and breadth of the open room. If he were any other person, she probably would have begun laughing, taking this as a pathetic attempt to lead her into his bed.
But this was Chtahzus'aak.
Following him tentatively, she gazed around at the marvelously high ceilings and contrasted lighting against the walls which demonstrated the rough textures of the blanched stone. Unsurprisingly, the decor was minimal, highly modern and undeniably impressive. It were as if the architect of the room had put Zeus' personality into the space, and Zoheret couldn't say that she minded the outcome. A column of dark glass without seams caught her attention next, a flicker of movement through the nearly-opaque structure from the other side told her where Zeus was standing, fiddling with something. She eyed his back suspiciously as she entered the greater part of the room, her heels clicking a slow, unsure rhythm on the wooden floors.
The dark angel took in the entire room without saying anything to him at first, noting the meticulous neatness and uniformity of theme of everything. The bed to her left caught her eye next, a delightfully large bed and deeply comfortable space. A fleeting judgement of the thread count of the blankets and sheets passed through her and she briefly thought of herself as sitting under them, the space belonging to her instead. It wasn't a terrible thought - and neither was the one that had her naked next to the demon in them, heat in their bodies - though it was unexpected to say the least. She shrugged the thought away and wondered if that was truly the reason he had brought her here - whiskey be damned.
He didn't seem the type to try such classless foolery. But then again, what did she really know about him? He was a demon, after all. A cocky smirk pulled at the corners of her lips as she continued her visual investigation of the room, the thought of them in that bed pulling lightly on her.
When his shoes had come off, he made his way behind her without the air of expectation, his attention focused on the bar on her right, sitting just behind a living room space complete with a couch, fireplace, and television set. She watched him as he worked, sighing, uncapping, and pouring another amber liquor into two glasses. Zoheret grew suspicious, trying not to let him see it as he came over and handed her a glass half full.
"And here I was expecting an actual bar," she jested in a light tone. The dark angel took a sip from her glass, noting how similar to - but richer, smoother, deeper and less sweet than - the whiskey they had shared in his office. She held it in her mouth a moment, feeling its subtle sting and vaporous body as she eyed Chtahzus'aak carefully. "I suppose you want me to take these off?" Her tone held the lightest touch of annoyance as she glanced downwards quickly, meaning her shoes though not seeing the need to clarify her meaning. A large part of her hoped he would say yes, giving her permission to be acceptably barefoot in his presence, a situation that she would feel uncomfortable about otherwise.
Lest he got the wrong idea.
-
The memory of relocating Sabrina's shoulder replayed over in his mind as Chtahzus'aak prepared the drinks, not bothering to glance back at Zoheret's reaction to her new surroundings. He'd brought her here without thinking about the implications, eager to chase that buzz he'd lost. Hell, he was even looking forward to talking about whatever bullshit the dark angel saw fit to drawl on about. The sooner he could stop thinking about wanting to disconnect Tess' head from her body, the better.
"I would have gone myself to get it, but I couldn't have you taring apart my office for making you wait another five minutes." Humor was not missing from his tone, though his body language still communicated tension and anger in the stiff way he passed her the second glass. God only knows what she tried to get into while he was gone, snooping through his things no doubt. He'd have to watch the security camera footage later.
He glanced down to her shoes with her before his eyes traveled back up to hers.
"You had them off in my office." he shrugged in a noncommittal fashion, staring intensely at her as he took a markedly more generous swig than he had been when they were drinking earlier in the evening. Truthfully, he would have rather she took off her shoes, but he didn't want her thinking he had other intentions.
That was the farthest thing from his mind.
Before they continued speaking he hastily drained what remained in his glass, letting out a pleasurable hum when it was empty. He went back over to the minibar to fix himself another, one that he'd spend a little more time enjoying than the first.
-
She was not easily intimidated by men - they were often cowed by her beauty and harshness, controlled by the rods in their pants. Zoheret had spent centuries manipulating them to fulfill her needs - money, properties, sex... When men looked upon her, she anticipated their reactions before they happened, bet on which ones would approach her and try his luck with her. She could read most men - especially human men - like a book. It allowed her to enter human realms of governances through back doors, using men as mouthpieces and stand-ins for her. Only recently, over the last century or so, she began to place herself in those positions of power and control. Existing in male-dominated spaces was a specialty of hers and she expected their reactions to her challenge - arousal, anger, frustration, insults, pettiness, even violence.
But as she stood and absorbed Zeus' intense stare, Zoheret watched him warily. There was something in that gaze that made her prickle, especially as he drank deep of his glass. Her ability to read Chtahzus'aak's aura and mental state where almost nonexistent. What she could read was most likely due to the subtle, unconscious familiarity with body language. It was almost as if she were blind to him and it made her both interested in him and cautious. An unfamiliar tension was building in her gut, something not exactly unpleasant.
When he threw back the rest of his drink and went to make himself another, the smallest frown lingered on her brow, narrowing her eyes.
"I had never witnessed a summoning before," she said with caution, watching his back again as he made another drink. "I thought you were playing some sort of game at my expense. I was trying to draw you out. I also had no idea when you'd be returning." She shrugged, but her gaze remained hard, whether he faced her or not. "You'd have done the same, I'm sure." Zoheret took another small sip of the new whiskey.
-
He didn't respond to her at first, screwing the cap back on the bottle and leisurely wetting his lips with the contents of his glass. The alcoholic afterburn that lingered in his throat offered an almost grounding sensation, pulling him from the swirling disorganization of thoughts.
The idea of Zoheret attempting to draw him out of the shadows was an amusing one. His lips held a playful smirk as he circled around the back of the couch with his glass to sit. Sitting with an exhale on the far end of the sectional closest to the fireplace, he put his feet up on the table in front of him.
"You are given little warning with a summoning," Why was he explaining this to her? "I didn't have even the slightest idea where I was going or who was calling me." He took another sip from his glass and sighed through his nose.
-
Her first instinct was to ask why Sabrina would summon Zeus in the first place. It seemed like an odd choice of allies - why wouldn't she choose another witch who understood the kind of magic that Sabrina was dealing with? As she unlatched the ankle straps and stepped down onto the cold wooden floors, she figured it was more to do with the instantness of her ability to summon anyone at all. Not to mention they had recently seen each other at a meeting and Zeus was a District Leader. The instantness of which Zeus would have been able to appear at her side was obviously the most necessary choice of allies. Zoheret let that little line of questioning go undiscussed.
Five inches shorter, she crossed into the sitting area, choosing an appropriate distance from the demon towards the other end of the sectional, fluttering her crimson wings unconsciously as she adjusted herself. Zoheret perched on the couch and crossed her legs at the knee, her attention and body slightly turned towards the demon. She studied him and took another sip of the whiskey, savoring the complex richness and making no attempt to toss it back. Zeus was drinking like man who wanted to leave the night behind and Zoheret was intent to let him, curious to see where it would lead them both. She rested an arm on the back of the sofa, turning her hips towards him so that more of the side of her upper thigh would be on display. "Sounds exhausting," she responded without much emotion, more at his tone than his words.
"How is Sabrina? I assume you were able to come to her aid in time, considering you're here now. It's hard to think a human would be able to even put up a challenge to her. Even with the influence of the devil." She was more than mildly curious, her tone reflected genuine concern, though is was not for the physical safety of the witch so much as the security of her status and power in the city. She had of course heard of the great Saint Sabrina before she had been chosen to lead the South, though her witnessings of the witch was few if ever at all before Charon's ball. Zoheret had been meaning to change that since she had been selected, but the time had simply gotten away from her. After tonight, between the meeting and the necromancer, she assumed that it would be a while before they were able to commune.
-
His glance moved over the newly exposed skin with distracted interest as she spoke.
"Even the best of us can be caught off guard," he murmured, lifting the glass to his lips and meeting her eyes. After a sip, he sighed through his nose and settled a bit deeper into the couch.
"The necromancer had raised a number of mummies by the time I had gotten there. Sabrina was outnumbered and injured, disadvantaged by closed quarters - indoors is a terrible place for a fight, especially with magic." His tone increased in passion and agitation with each spoken word, "Had I been involved from the beginning I would've tried to draw her out in the open, or -" He stopped himself with another sip of whiskey, suddenly aware of how much he'd spoken and to whom. Was he being too obvious? He should've sent Zoheret on her way, not invited her deeper into his home.
Ridiculous.
With lips pressed tightly together, he straightened a bit on the couch. "We need to get ahead of this Tess. Figure out what she's collecting and why."
-
It was as good of a show as any she had seen that night and Zoheret knew enough to not bring attention to it by smirking or shifting, or looking at him any differently. There was no mistaking his glance towards her legs which she feigned not noticing. Instead she caught his distracted gaze as if it were a natural part of their conversation, listening closely as he explained himself to her with very uncharacteristic description of the event.
There was a long pause after his last comment and Zoheret looked off into the underground room. There was so much information to process that she felt almost giddy with it. His comments towards Sabrina seemed oddly defensive and passionate - almost protective? Not to mention his wandering eyes, relaxing position while remaining in her presence. Then there was the whiskey...
This time, when the thought of bedding him bubbled into her fleeting thoughts, she entertained it. What would he be like in bed? Would he be as guarded and sterile as he was in a meeting? That emotion in his voice made her doubt it and that amused her greatly. Would he be violent and rough? It was likely. Would he care for his own pleasure or would he consider hers as well? Probably not. Zoheret moved her eyes off of the exposed skin of his chest after she realized that her gaze had drifted down to his undone shirt, thinking passingly about how firm his skin probably was.
But Chtahzus'aak was a demon. She had never met a demon who had expressed sexual interest in angelic kind - but was that because their dealings were so few? Their kinds didn't cross business. Demons were known for being deceitful, vicious, and crude like animals. While she was an Angel, she had always been told to avoid them while on Earth - they weren't worth the effort put in to make them.
But she was no longer an Angel of light.
A sliver of torrid arousal snuck through her body as she imagined her hair on his pillows, his face above her. What else was she supposed to think, having being taken down into his living space? She would have never taken a man to the third floor of her villa unless she had planned to bed him. She thought of the actuality of it all and found it all still unlikely, despite the signs that he had portrayed. It was Chtahzus'aak, after all. Zoheret must have been missing something in the translation of the moment.
Perhaps he was gauging her for her reactions? Perhaps he had dragged her down here to imprison her? Hurt her and take the North West? The ideas were laughable to her. They were drinking in his sleeping space. Had she been human, the insinuation would have been clear. Even Sebastian had taken a drink before bedding her.
"It is a problem we could seek the Ward's help with immediately," Zoheret suggested evenly, as if her pulse weren't racing with the thoughts of seeing an unguarded Chtahzus'aak. "They would be able to move through the city easiest and find her. Was the witch at least injured when you left?"
-
He took another sip before answering, deliberately reigning in the anger he'd shown enough of. Can't have her wondering.
"No," he huffed despite his own efforts. Mentally he scrambled for a different topic, something less emotional for him. Easier to control his tone and face.
"The Ward," he began, gesturing vaguely in the air, "We all should be equally contributing to their funding." In his mind, Zeus ran through different conversation paths, comparing them against one another to decide which would be quickest to get Zoheret out of his compound. His aim was for one that would arouse the least suspicion, and he wasn't about to be rude.
-
She quirked an eyebrow at him. Was this him frazzled? Changing subjects so blatantly, giving her short answers?
"Hmm," she responded with a noncommittal pensive hum, taking the last sip of her whiskey. Her insides were feeling mildly warm from the drink in her hand, though she was nowhere approaching drunk. It was clear that this was sipping whiskey, not mixing or shot whiskey, and she couldn't help but look at the cling of the liquor in the glass in her hand. Without asking for his permission, Zoheret stood and crossed barefoot back to the minibar at his back, intent to pour herself another glass as she spoke. She smirked as she caught sight of his bed again, but continued in her path.
"While I personally agree," she said with a sigh, playing into his little diversion game, "you'll have a hard time convincing any of the other District Leaders that." She placed her glass on the bar and picked up a thick glass bottle with the label intact. She spoke as she read it as she spoke, only absorbing the word 'Angel' on the front for a very long time. "Especially since they all have their own gatherings of trusted creatures to enforce their laws separate from the Ward. Dark angels are particularly rare in this city and most of them live in my district. I have only five whom I can trust to handle situations that get out of control. The rest I must rely upon the Ward. Central, the East, and the North are not like this. I doubt the West is as well, all things considered." She poured her drink, finally understanding the label of the whiskey and giving a short huff of laughter.
When she was done, Zoheret took both her drink and the bottle of whiskey up to Zeus with an amused look on her face. "Really, now?" She held up the rounded bottle, label facing towards him as if he didn't know what whiskey they drank.
It was a dark amber hue with a set of transparent wings printed on the inside of the glass bottle to show through the front. Angel's Envy, it said. Cask Strength. She was holding a $1,000 of bourbon that was slightly less than half full. The irony of the name made her roll her eyes and look down at him with that same raised eyebrow.
-
It was natural for him to turn his body toward her as they spoke and she moved to make herself another drink. She had only five for enforcement? Well, the North West did seem to be one of the lesser-populated districts, at least in comparison to West and Central, but she had the ports to contend with. The Ward was meant to be independent and impartial, from what Zeus understood. Funding would ensure they could properly do their job, and it should come equally from all of them so one district was not favored over the other.
Admittedly it was something that should've been brought up at the meeting, but at the time Ward was mentioned Zeus' attention was fixed on an entirely different subject. "What gives you the impression that the others wouldn't be willing to contribute?" His tone was conversational and expression stern before she let out a laugh. Presumably in response to his question, and he patiently waited for her to elaborate. When he realized she'd commented on the whiskey, the side of his mouth tugged upward and he quirked an eyebrow.
"What?" It wasn't as if his taste was shaped by irony. The whiskey was an exquisite make.
-
Her eyebrow perked higher as he smirked up at her, something written in his expression that told the dark angel that he was, in fact, enjoying the irony of the situation.
"McCloud, Charon, and Saraekiel all have their own private..." Zoheret waved her hand around nonchalantly, "...companions who find them the things they need to know and fight their battles for them. Why would they fund someone else less loyal to them to do that while they're already funding others privately?"
She had a small, mostly-human staff at Attica Villa. She had her money, her wealth, her resources. What she lacked was allies and the armies that the other District Leaders seemed to have, like they were preparing for a war. She had faith in her trusted five when it came down to it, but the Ward was a huge benefit to her position, especially when decisions had to be carried out in the NorthWest. It wasn't ever a comfortable situation to admit to, and she sure as Heaven wasn't going to allow that information pass to Chtahzus'aak, regardless of the amount of alcohol they consumed together. Obtaining and keeping allies had always been a priority since the Oligarchy had broken down.
She kept her eyes on Zeus and tossed back her new drink, swallowing it all quickly before the subtle burn could catch her and make her throat sting. Had the whiskey been any cheaper of a quality, it probably would have scalded her with volatile fumes, overwhelmed her with the underlying harshness. To its character, nothing of the like happened, though a pungent wave of flavor and spice did spin her senses briefly. She lowered the glass and puckered her lips at him, tasting the remnants of the heat that flooded her body now.
"Funny," she said waspishly, though with a strong taste of her particular brand of humor, "I still don't feel envious." She wiped at the corner of her lips, ensuring her lipstick remained exactly where she intended it to be. With a smile, she added more whiskey to her glass (though not as much as before. Admittedly, it would probably be a few minutes before she took another sip anyway and she sensed their drinking wouldn't continue much longer with Zeus in this state of mind). She placed the bottle back on the shelf where it belonged and turned back to the demon with her glass in hand.
With the poise of her kind, she moved lithely towards the couch on which Chtahzus'aak sat looking at her and seated herself gracefully on the arm. She reclined against the back of the couch leisurely and crossed her legs as they dangled off the edge of the arm of the couch. Her hand with her renewed glass of whiskey in her lap while she arched an elbow against the backrest, the first finger of her hand propped delicately against a gorgeous cheekbone. From there, Zoheret looked down at Zeus with a curious expression - something trapped between amusement, challenge, and expectation.
-
"To keep them less loyal," Zeus answered quickly, "To ensure some sense of accountability equally amongst the districts." So the events surrounding the taking of the West wouldn't be recreated. He thought it was a simple enough conclusion to come to. It only made sense to have an entity without a personal agenda police the city. Perhaps the Districts should make an effort to send a certain number of their own recruits to the Ward to diversify it.
Her last comment drew a smirk from him, and with eyebrows raised he watched her move to sit on the arm of the chair. Here she was again, toeing past the line of what would be considered a polite professional boundary. What sort of game was she playing? Was this some kind of test? Did she expect him to yield where she pressed, as if he would bend to her wishes?
Fat chance.
His stare remained steadily locked with hers as he took another slow sip from his glass.
-
She scoffed a bitter laugh at his remark. Had she not just told him that Ben Samson was funding the Ward since the fall of the Oligarchy? Had she not also said that they have all the protections they needed within their own little fiefdom of districts? Men never willingly gave up power. If they did, well, there would still be an Oligarchy, wouldn't there?
"I never took you for an idealist, Chtahzus'aak," Zoheret cooed wryly at the demon from her perch. "There hasn't been accountability since the days of the Oligarchy. Only the illusion of it." Or had you forgotten that part, she almost asked, but decided to keep it to herself, no longer interested in taking a dig at his disappearance lest he clam up again. After all he hadn't stepped away from her challenge yet, but proved that he was going to hold his own against her. Fascinating. She kept that smirk firmly in place, her expression unchanged despite the fluttering in her body.
She thought about the moment she had realized that he had allowed her into his living quarters, the implications of such an action. Was this whole thing really about business? About getting whiskey? Or was there something else there?
Zoheret smiled wider when she realized he wouldn't back down until she did.
Wrong move, she thought with a flare of anger.
Instead she slipped off the side of the couch onto the cushion next to him, crossing her legs as she made herself more comfortable in the tension between them. His arm was on the back of the couch just behind her head now and their proximity filled her with a sort of tension that wasn't entirely unpleasant. With purpose, she looked arrogantly at his lips. Zoheret was close enough to smell the liquor on his breath.
"Why am I actually here?" She demanded quietly, leaning in towards him to increase the tension and allow him a better view of the cleft of her breasts, holding her glass over her lap again. The question, he would understand, was pointed at his motivations rather than hers.
-
Slowly draining his glass, Zeus was sure to monitor his expression as she baited him. Zeus leaned forward to set his glass down on the table. He didn't consider himself an idealist - more of a realist. Did he expect them all to play nice? Not without reason. But a joint-funding of the Ward could make being mean more difficult. Not that he was about to argue that with her now.
Not while she was cozying up to him.
Curious.
The shadow demon was stone as she moved even closer, though his eyes were unable to resist wandering where she no doubt intended for them to. Yes, she was the very picture of smoldering beauty in that sickening way that her kind inherently was. Of course, she was the very visage of temptation in an overbearing cliche sort of manner. But Chtahzus'aak was no drooling fool. His eyes did not linger on her form, returning to meet her gaze with a renewed challenge.
"I thought you wanted to drink," his quiet answer and otherwise unreadable expression did not lack the subtle aftertaste of humor. Zeus took the glass from her hand and raised it to his lips without breaking eye contact. Fluidly he moved forward to set it beside his empty one before returning to his previous position.
-
A heat she couldn't decipher rose in her chest and in her cheeks as he tossed those words back at her, his voice low, sharp, and tainted with his annoyingly attractive style of humor. He couldn't possibly be suggesting that it was her doing that had she was here, essentially in his bedroom. Absolutely preposterous.
As his hand moved closer to her, she inhaled and braced herself - for what, she wasn't sure. Blood rushed around her ears, fear and arousal flushing her into rigidness. Until he took her glass. Zoheret watched him take a sip from her glass with a mixture of confusion, disbelief, and disappointment pushing her eyebrows higher.
This time her scoff displayed more of her offense. "I distinctly remember inviting you out to a bar," she purred smoothly but not without a tang of indignance. "You could have gotten that whiskey and met me back in your office," she reminded him, enjoying first his wandering gaze and then immediately hating that even stare he gave her. Unreadable and challenging.
"Instead," Zoheret said, breaking eye contact with him to look seductively down at his lips and pull herself closer to the demon, her breasts gently grazing his chest as she leaned in, their lips separated by only a few inches of electric air, "you brought me down to your bedroom." Her eyes found his again and she grinned coldly at him. "What else am I to think?"
-
He found fault with her every point. The point that he wouldn't talk politics in public during this time of unrest in the city was not something he intended on repeating. No, that was an office conversation at minimal. He hadn't set out to make it anything more than that, and he certainly hadn't expected to be summoned. Nevermind the fact that when he did return, it was to a trashed office and he wasn't exactly keen on leaving her unsupervised to do more damage during one of her tantrums at being kept waiting. He'd just dealt with the necromancer's assassination attempt - not even he could think clearly enough to remember that she'd consumed all that he kept in his office.
No, this wasn't about any of that, facts aside. Zoheret was playing a game.
He would not be the one to break.
"Are you suggesting," There was a barely perceivable movement toward her, daring to claim a hair's breadth of space for his own, "that I tell you what to think?"
-
She remembered what it was like to kiss a human for the first time, that (then) inexplicable pounding in her chest, the fluttering of heat through the surface of her skin, the curling sensation of arousal in her belly and between her legs. She hadn't been able to stop herself then and she had allowed that human to take her to his bed, overwhelmed with the feelings of his worship. It had been the beginning of her Fall, and the event was proceeded with hiding it, the new feelings of shame, the desire to feel that praise again, the need to feel eyes and hands on her naked body. She had been cast out after defending herself and her actions, dropped to Earth as if she were rubbish even after millenia of loyalty and devotion to Him.
It wasn't her actions with the mortals that caused her to Fall, He informed her. It was her desire to continue, to covet the attention, and then defend her sins that ultimately cast her down.
Zoheret remembered that now as she sat angled towards this demon, close enough now that she could feel the heat from his words on her face. Once upon a time, lore had poised them as supernatural opposites on Earth in a constant battle for their Masters. Now, centuries after her Fall and Ritual, Zoheret wondered how opposite they actually were, especially in the supernatural city where, for some reason, they were all drawn.
He was a demon, after all, and she had never really even touched a demon before, let alone been carnal with one. Heat again passed through her skin and settled in the pit of her belly.
She looked at Chtahzus'aak's lips as they challenged her once again, the familiar hatred of his cool cheekiness making the lips between her legs swell. What would it be like to Curse him with her lips? She had done it to humans before plenty of times, scalding them for trying to control her or force her or disobey her. But would it work on a demon if she needed it to? Would it teach him the lesson he clearly needed to learn? Zoheret couldn't be sure; she weighed her options for a long moment before responding to the demon.
Her grin widened but maintained its command and coolness, her eyes lingering on his lips before finding his steady gaze again. "No," Zoheret stated firmly, "I'm suggesting that you have an ulterior motive to inviting me to your quarters besides sharing your whiskey."
Before he could respond, Zoheret leaned in and placed a hungry kiss on Zeus' lips, grinning through it as if she were enjoying some private joke.
-
What she assumed was utterly ridiculous, and he had every intention to tell her so. For once, he had no ulterior motive, his decision to bring her here as casual and thoughtless as possible.
Perhaps not thoughtless - he was distracted. But that was another matter.
There was only enough time for his lips to pull back slightly in the shape of a laugh before the dark angel closed the distance between them. While he'd expected that she'd draw the tension out long enough for her to get another quip or two into their conversation, this move was not completely unexpected. Not that Zeus would go so far as to claim that he'd seen it coming, but it was within the realm of possibilities in this game.
Or maybe she was projecting her desires onto him.
This revelation came to him just as he responded to the kiss, hard and challenging. The whiskey on their hot breath mingling with her delicate scent perfumed a bit of imagery lingering at the back of his mind - her hair splayed across his pillows and his hands around her throat. Squeezing.
Moving closer, he laid a firm hand against her face, pressed his thumb against her cheekbone and cupped her cheek against his palm. With his fingers gripping lightly at her neck, he deepened the kiss, wondering how she would respond - how far she would let this little game continue.
If it were just a game to her.