[THE CAGED BIRD] i can see through souls where people cannot hide their fear

[deaths_head]

"...believe this is more than fair to compensate you for the, uh, matter at hand."

The Shade sat back in his chair, regarding the demon across from him with a stern, impassive expression as he took in Moyset's offering. She was a tiny slip of a thing, quiet and diminutive--obedient.

He wasn't sure how felt about that.

With a sigh, the Shade folded his arms and looked around the tavern. The city of Gehenna in Purgatory played host to a myriad of drinking establishments and other dens of inequity, but The Red Hart was one of the nicer ones--low light, good booze, and neutral ground. No realm held sway there--it even fluctuated between realities, existing both in the land of the living and Purgatory at the same time.

The Shade's business of the day was held in the back room, facing the demon that had taken a soul the Shade had already marked as his own. Rather than getting a decent payday from Satan, Moyset ended up with a debt to the Shade...and had just plain pissed him off in the interim.

Moyset claimed that he had an offering of restitution for the soul he'd stolen, but all he'd brought was a half broken succubus from the looks of it. She was lovely, sure, but there didn't appear to be any spirit to her so far...

"I'll be the judge of that, Moyset." the Shade rumbled, sliding his chair back and standing. Walking around to where the girl stood behind her master, the Shade towered over her. Here, in the back room, hidden from view, he didn't bother with his human guise: over seven feet tall, his hat and coat sat on the back of his chair. Snug leather trousers and a black tank put on display body that was trim, but solidly muscled, adorned heavily with tattoos that glowed with a pale grey light with a purple cast.

Glowering down at her, he just stood a moment before speaking.

"Look at me, child." he instructed, low and gruff. "Look at me, and tell me truthfully your opinion of your current master. Speak freely--you'll not be punished."

He paused, glancing at Moyset over his shoulder.

"And if you are, I'll dine on his eyes."

Comments

[nymphoingenue]

The succubus in question had kept silent, her eyes on the floor so as not to annoy her master. Moyset tended to be rough with his slaves and she had learned firsthand that fighting his orders was an invitation for pain.

She knew from the conversation that he was trading her, and that this other being scared him. That had to mean she was in even more trouble than before, she thought, until he gave her an order. It was counterintuitive after Moyset's dominion, but the succubus lifted her head and looked up into the Shade's eyes, taking a few breaths to steady herself and glancing from him to her master.

"Yes sir. He --" She had to look into the Shade's eyes to speak, "He pushes me too far. He laughs when I cry. He doesn't care about me." She purses her lips, wondering if the truth will hurt her even as she speaks it. "I don't like serving him." She hates him, it's clear to see in her eyes.