In the Serpents' Den

[Black Philip]

The Sinister Serpents did have a leader, and Apep knew who that leader was. That didn't mean he was going to share this with Laurent though, but that didn't mean he couldn't answer the shadow demon honestly. He took the standard hose now, and took in a fresh hit of nicotine. He placed the hose back on the table, and drew out the answering time even longer by draining his glass of whiskey.

"I've called people boss before," he said, remembering his earlier days of being nothing more than a runner for fools. He'd known even then he wasn't meant to follow. "But the only person I've ever really worked for is myself. It's easier that way, and more profitable."

He poured more whiskey into his glass and topped off Laurent if he needed more. "The serpents here work as a team. We each do our own shit, and the others don't interfere. We pool our resources and strengths to maximize our chances of success. Nothing more."

"And you," he said. "You work alone I assume?"

[The Cedar Witch]

Laurent did not miss the carefully phrased reply and was not so keen to let it go yet.

"Correct," smoke blew out of his mouth with his answer and he did not elaborate.  Instead, he reflected the topic of conversation back to the serpent.

"From what I recall from our humble beginnings together, you mentioned talking to your boss about an inter-city distribution connection,"  He spoke quietly, reaching for his glass again,  "I see you've gotten your toes into the city proper."  He hid his grin behind a sip before setting the glass back down on the table.  "Business is going well, I imagine?" he gestured to the bar, indicating it as evidence of this statement.

[Black Philip]

Apep was not surprised by Laurent's confirmation of self employment, but he was surprised by what he'd said next. As Apep had said he had no other leader than himself, Laurent reminded him he'd already let the falsity of that leak. If Apep hadn't been annoyed at Laurent for remembering, he might've been impressed. He took back the ice tip, using the time it took to take a pull to contemplate his reply. He could throw himself at the shadow demon, using lust to pause the conversation further. No. He would win this game. He bet on the fact he was better at playing.

"Bars are money sucks," Apep deflected. "This place currently costs more than it makes. We're going to change that once we get fully staffed."

"Our success is based on our plethora of services," he hissed seductively, properly answering Laurent's question without mention of a boss, or exactly what those services were. "But you're right to think that business is booming. McCloud removed our competition."

[The Cedar Witch]

Laurent, ever the Gentleman, did not make a fuss about catching Apep in a lie.  He understood the game well enough, a sly smile the only hint to this thought. 

"I've offered you a contact for distribution," he observed patiently, "Discrete, resourceful, elusive to authorities, and obedient."  Nikolai and the Eastwood Disciples were good at what they did, and already had buyers lined up.  It was simple math, and the Serpents should expect to see an explosion of growth. 

Quicker than a human (though perhaps not quicker than a snake) his arm wrapped around the snake's waist and pulled him into his lap.  He leaned in close, teasing Apep's earlobe with his lips, "Shall I take your dodging as a lack of interest?" 

[Black Philip]

Apep appreciated Laurent's boldness. It was sexy, and Apep paid Laurent back for his gesture by rotating his hips, pushing his bum down on Lauren'ts crotch. He was slow and deliberate, seemingly still to observers. He knew Laurent wanted him, that on some level this interest was as much about control and power as it was actual lust. It was rare to meet someone who made Apep feel this way. It was rare that someone made him feel at all.

"No, I'm verrrry interested," he hissed. The business talk in their pleasure was confusing, but far from unwelcome. Apep loved to do business, and it was as much foreplay as the placement of his ass and Laurent's hands.  "Do you like obedience," Apep teased softly. "I want your contact," he assured, dialing back the seduction just a tad. "I like connections that make me money, but aren't easily traced back. What do you want from me in return?"

Apep never assumed Laurent would do this for free.

[The Cedar Witch]

His cock responded eagerly to the tease, and a pleasurable hum sounded from the base of his throat.  Hands moved to Apep's hips, holding him firmly in place.  At Apep's first question, Laurent chuckled softly.  Obedience was something enjoyed, but the game of obtaining it from the less-than-willing was the more succulent prize.  Soulless husks were obedient, but draining them was where the pleasure resided.  Should the prey have a little fight in them, it was all the better.

Like his Lost Little Princess, but she would be home soon.

"What do you have to offer?"  The smile flavored his voice, lips brushing against his neck just below the ear.  Laurent could ask for a few things but was interested in seeing what Apep thought such a connection was worth.

[Black Philip]

The game was proving an interesting one, and the increase in pressure on his ass from Laurent's twitching cock told Apep he wasn't losing. He pulled the hose to his lips to create a moment for him to think. What price did Laurent want for his offered connection? He assumed Laurent was already getting something from the contact, or it was someone firmly in his pocket. Despite appearances, Apep was not in Laurent's pocket though, and that meant paying for services obtained. He kept his ass in a wiggle, his own rod beginning to stiffen from the massage his bum was getting.

"I have a few odds and ends you might like in the shop," he said, pointing towards the upstairs in case Laurent thought that meant going to a different location. He had conditions though. Parting with magical items was often a risk for something as intangible as a connection.

"Orrrrr, you can tell me what you need. I like it that way, to please. I mean, why offer you something at random, when you likely already know what you want. So what do you want, sir?"

The last word was said with something of a pout, and Apep craned his head back so Laurent would see his pretty, golden eyes and soft lips. Let Laurent name his price. Otherwise, Apep would demand proof before completing the deal.

[The Cedar Witch]

The Honorific brought an unexpectedly delightful surge of warmth to his groin.  He hummed thoughtfully, fingers dancing playfully along the tops of Apep's thighs.

His words took on a notably honeyed quality.  "I imagine in this line of business you find yourself with access to..." he paused, searching for the right turn of phrase, "...interesting information."  He was desirous of shop items, sure, but that seemed more appropriate for a one-time transaction - in exchange for the soul he would acquire soon, for instance. 

The Eastwood Disciples were not a one-time transaction, but an avenue of growth.

"A Connection for a Connection would be an..." his fingers traveled higher, tracing the seam of the serpent's jeans, "...appropriate trade, yes?"

[Black Philip]

Apep reacted to Laurent's caress, making sure Laurent could look directly into his eyes. Eyes were normally the window to the soul, but Apep's lived deeper down than that. He was layered in a protective armor of falsity, so much so not even he knew the extent of it. To Laurent, he looked like a man surrendering, but internally he felt strong and in control.

"Perfectly appropriate," he breathed out in a whisper. "A place to give your girls when they've outgrown their value to you," he dangled, knowing it was flesh that paid Laurent's bills. "Or," he said, building this one up more than the last. "A witch, who specializes in the darkest of magics. I assume you could have use for such a person."

If neither of these connections were ones Laurent wanted, he'd try others, but Tess was a powerful weapon in the right hands, and Slytheria would likely take Laurent's unwanted. She'd pump them with venom and put them back to work. He laughed in a combination of pleasure, and amusement. Today was going so well.

[The Cedar Witch]

While Laurent had originally intended for access to the Eyes in Ouroboros, for the city's dirty secrets to be passed along to him, what Apep offered was much more interesting.  His needs had shifted since falling from Chtahzus'aak's grace, and the services of a dark witch had a myriad of uses. 

Hips shifting forward, he reached into his back pocket for a crisp white business card and flipped it face down on the table.  Somewhere along the motion, a small pen appeared in his fingers and he reached around Apep to scribble down a name - NIKOLAI ARMANI - and phone number.  The pen went back to that unseen place from where it had appeared, and Laurent's hands found their way back to Apep's hips.

"I want to know more about this witch," he punctuated the sentence with a subtle hip-thrust, "but first--" his hand darted out for the hose, and he took a long pull--

"Pleasure and--" smoke drifted from his nostrils on the exhale, escaping from his parted lips with his words-- "Celebration." 

[Black Philip]

The deal was struck when Laurent presented Apep with the card for Nikolai Armani. What a pretentious ass fake name, or Apep thought as he carefully placed the card in his jeans pocket. He would give Laruent Tess's contact, and tell what he knew of her. The rest was up to him. Apep debated getting their deal in writing, or at least an official verbal confirmation. However, he didn't want to spoil the mood, and if their lips touched the deal was sealed that way. He wanted to kiss those lips, to feel if there was any passion in them.

"Then we've waited long enough," he said, picking up his whiskey glass and draining the remainder. They'd really wasted such a nice Hookah, and so Apep resolved to bring it back with them. The whiskey would come too. This was a night for forgetting oneself. Apep pulled himself off Laurent with purpose, his leg kicking up, almost like a dancer, and swinging wildly to hit the floor. He rose, and grabbed the bottle, only then realizing how much the booze had hit him. He motioned for Laurent to follow and headed for a back area.

Laurent might be confused why Apep chose to stop in front of a painting of snakes playing poke.r, but Apep smiled at him for reassurance. The bathrooms were to the left, and the main bar was back down the hallway to the right. They were at a crossroads. Apep knocked on the wall to the painting's left. One of the snakes in the painting turned to the pair.

"Password," it hissed.

"Kumquat," Apep replied, pointing at Laurent for inclusion. The painting returned to normal, but slid open revealing a dark passageway. Once they were inside, the painting swung shut, leaving them in what looked like the basement of the apartment building their operation was situated in. Gone was the glamour of the speak easy. Here was the real club.

Red lights flooded the room, and shined on gold curtains hung from various curtain rods. Tons of comfortable furniture revealed men and women with needles in their arms, or fangs in their necks. They were already chasing the snake, as Apep sometimes called the venom high. More snake demons were here than any other part of the club, beautiful men and women providing drugs and pleasure. Apep was sure Slytheria was here somewhere, but didn't seek her out. He led Laurent past one of the gold curtains, a mattress and several pillows awaiting them. 

"All of this," he said referencing the club, "and you get by far the best this club has to offer. Do you know what the best is?"

As if to make his point, his hands finally reached into Laurent's pants. The hookah was brought in by the cocktail waitress and placed on an end table near the pair. Laurent could drop the curtain, or let others see. Apep cared not which. His pretty fangs stared back white, as the Scarei's face was bathed in red.

[The Cedar Witch]

If Laurent was confused or uncertain during any portion of the journey into Ouroboros inner-sanctum, he did not make any outward indication of it.  He absorbed each detail from the painting, to the password, to the writing bodies awash in red and the undercurrent symphony of pleasure beneath the background music.  With each step forward his whisky-loosened smile widened and widened.

Now this was more like it.

This was what his own flesh-den looked like before authorities had shut him down the first time - when he was sorely lacking the resources to challenge them.  In time it would look like this again, after he'd claimed his prize and made his trade. 

His eyes raked over Apep's form while he led them on, glancing back up into the serpent's eyes as he spoke.  The boast gave him a little thrill.  "I take it the best--" the hand sneaking under his clothing stopped his sultry answer with a sharp intake of breath "--is you?"

When the hookah followed, he flashed the waitress a toothy grin, staring avidly until she left, letting the curtain drop of its own accord.  His attention returned to Apep's fangs.  He pressed into Apep's hand, moving him slowly backwards with a shuffling step toward the mattress.

His hand went suddenly to the side of Apep's face, taking his jaw in a less-than-gentle grip.  For a moment it seemed their lips would connect intensely, but he stopped the motion when they were parted only by centimeters.  His thumb swiped across Apep's bottom lip, inching up slightly to brush against a fang.  "Will it wear off before sunrise?" he asked, eyes fixed on pointy white.

[Black Philip]

Apep nodded as Laurent asked if the best was himself, smiling wickedly. He 'd thought about this moment for a long time, the first night he'd met Laruent being attracted to him. It was rare for Apep to care about anything, but even the Scarei recognized that he desired this demon's approval. He couldn't probe the origin of this feeling, and part of him was repulsed by what he normally saw as a weakness. Apep had a rule of no attachments, however small. Yet, here he was, just wanting this man to like him, but being far too duplicitous and opaque to ever say how he actually felt. It was a cruel irony for a polished con. They forgot how to say what is real.

When his jaw was grabbed, Apep winced in genuine discomfort. Normally, he would've backhanded a partner for such a move, but here he only shot a warning glance. Laurent would not be treating Apep like the garbage he traded in. Submissive was one thing, but owned was another. Apep refused to be owned. When Laurent's thumb ran across his lip, he slowly closed his eyes, imagining what was to come betwixt them.

The serpent nodded again at Laurent's question, knowing it would take a lot of venom just to get Laurent high, let alone keep him there till sunrise. Demons were harder than humans or wolves to infect. Still, Laurent would end up with a few hours of fun, and Apep knew a way he could follow Laurent into the trip. Scarei Di could not get high off venom. It was a cruel irony of their potent poison that it was only for others. Apep knew what the effects would be, and picked a drug to match, snapping his fingers to get an attendants attention.

He obtained a tablet of acid, and placed it under his tongue, and then returned to Laurent. "Are you ready to fly," he asked, moving to kiss the demon's neck. They were soft, sensual kisses, but he also let his fangs scrape along the demon's flesh in tease. There was pain waiting on the other side of this gentleness. "Tell me when to bite, he whispered softly."

[The Cedar Witch]

“Do it,” he murmured, shivering with pleasure at the scrape of Apep’s teeth.

The fangs slipped into his neck and he let his head roll back, a smile plastered across his face. 

A euphoric surge spiked through the hazy liquid state the whiskey slipped him into.  He was aware, peripherally, of his lips moving against Apep’s - rough and dominating fueled by euphoric passion.  Slowly he began to drift away from his body and he watched it fall onto the bed with the serpent, hands roving and mouths tasting.  Farther he drifted, the red and black of the den swirling and blending into a whirlpool, pleasure sparking through like the vibrant twinkle of starlight.  The murmuring conversations in other areas of the den devolved into a torrent of whispers, simultaneously distant and unpleasantly close to his eardrums. 

Sluggishly he looked back down at his body, unable to determine the positioning of tangled limbs.  A flash of color in the distance -- on a newly sprouted horizon -- drew his eye.  He was floating toward it now, curious, eager to leave the whispers and tangled bodies behind.  The sun was suspended there, as though it had stopped mid-set between the shoulders of a mountain range.  The wind rushed, crimson highlighting the curves of grey clouds like cotton moving across the darkening sky -- this too pulled his attention, whisps undulating and contracting to form familiar faces contorted in anguish. 

Unable to control the speed with which he drifted along, Va’tamal turned to face the direction he was headed -- directly for the mountains.  A fog poured, waterfall-like, from the sun.  Now that he was closer, the sun seemed to decide to continue its descent.  For reasons unbeknownst to the shadow demon, this filled him with unpleasantly intense fear.  The air was otherwise silent, whispers and voices of Ouroboros far behind him now.  The sinking sun increased the saturation of the reddened sky, competing with the inky blackness that edged in at the far most edges of his peripheral vision.

In the foggy distance against a bloody sky, the craggy mountain face shifted, peaks rolling into valleys, cliffs splitting and unfurling with thunderous rolling.  In a blink, the mountain was no more, in its place the enormous demonic form of Chtahzus’aak, wings stretching and arms reaching into the endless void overhead.  His luminous eyes pierced the blackness like two great spotlights, scanning the grassy knolls below.  Va’tamal darted behind a rock, but once the light passed overhead the bolder dissolved.  He turned to look upon the giant Chtahzus’aak, stooping now so that his enormous face was at Va’tamal’s eye level.  There was no amount of willpower large enough that would allow Va’tamal to look away.  The Giant Chtahzus’aak opened his terrible mouth and unleashed such a sound that the air vibrated intensely at his inhale.  Va'tamal had no hands to cover his ears -- and no ears either, for that matter -- and the force of the sound possessed a physicality that could not be resisted, knocking Va'tamal straight onto his back. 

[Black Philip]

Apep took one last pull from the hookah, and as he breathed out his smoke rings they were each a different color. He giggled at the blues, reds, and greens, and moved over to take a bite out of Laurent. His fings slid into Laurent's neck, and the slow drip of venom began. It took a few minutes until Laurent had a dose large enough, and once Apep was sure his comrade was flying he retracted his fangs, and started to seek of kisses. Flesh touched flesh, and hands moved up and down one another. Apep noticed a bit more than Laurent did, enough to know they were naked and the demon was inside him. His fears of being abused were not founded. If anything, Apep drove.

The snake demon's mind traveled far and wide, leaving the Ouroboros behind all together. He was back in Egypt, his family home in Cairo. His mother prayed in Arabic to the snake god, while his father stood showing him Scarei artifacts.

Now this one comes from the area known as Mesopotamia, hi father taught, focusing into view. "And it is a tool used by a high priestess for fertility. Apep was young again, no more than twenty Scarei years. He'd forget most of what his father said today. He wanted to go play with his toys. The outside should've been a busy bazaar, but it was dead quiet. An eclipse blocked out the sun. His mother stopped her praying and wen to the window.

"He is rising," she said to her husband.

"It's just an eclipse dear," Apep's father replied. "Now this rod was used for curses," he continued, showing Apep another artifact. His mother faded away, as did the apartment, leaving Apep alone with his father.

"One day my son, you will know all of our people's secrets."

"But I don't want to," Apep said, pouting and looking for a toy.

"You will son," his father assured. "One day this knowledge will matter more to you than anything else."

The vision, that was half memory, half drugs faded to black, and Apep was left alone with only the artifacts his father had tried to show him.