Witches and Demons (AngelLass & Lady Amalthea)

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by LunarLavendula, Mar 29, 2015.

  1. Willow Liradeene (open)

    • [​IMG]
      True to her name, Willow is a tall, lithe thing, all angles and sharp edges. She casts a striking figure, and while her movements are graceful, there is something unsettling in the way she moves, bringing to mind panthers in unexplored jungles and sudden storms that descend without warning. There is definitely something other about her, something hidden, and most people can sense it like animals can sense impending disaster. Willow is strange.

      She wears her charcoal hair in an updo to suit her mood, unabashed to accessorize with feathers, beads, braids, flowers, and other more eclectic and eccentric signature pieces. When left alone to its’ own devices her hair falls to just above her hips like a waterfall, obstinately straight, as if challenging the world to tame and coax it otherwise. Willow had tried – on several occasions – to do just that, wielding weapons of product and hair spray. She lost the battle, and hasn’t bothered with such frustrating, unnecessary things since…
      Under construction!


    The apartment Willow had come to call home was off the beaten track, and that suited her just fine. A maze of alleys and side streets proved her favourite way to navigate to the city centre, not that she was doing much of that today. Or yesterday. Or the day before yesterday… or, actually, when was the last time she had left her home?

    Willow leaned back in her rickety wicker chair and stretched like a cat. Meanwhile, a stack of papers on her desk decided this was their perfect chance to escape and scattered themselves across the floor with gusto. Willow clicked her tongue in annoyance. It had dawned on her the last few days, somewhere between the gallons of herbal tea and dumping her writing hand in buckets of ice water, that perhaps she was a little overworked. One glance around her once tidy home confirmed her suspicions for sure. She needed an apprentice. And funnily enough, she doubted putting an ad in some of the local papers would find her a suitably skilled worker. It was a sad truth of the march of progress that the Great Arts were in decline. No, Willow would find no apprentice, and she would bear this burden alone with her herbal tea.

    The young witch pressed the heels of her palms into her eye sockets and tried to think through the onset of slow delirium. It was hard to think through so many layers of lack of sleep, and lack of proper sustenance, and her mind buzzed with ancient words and forgotten lore and binding spells and… and…
    summoning spells. Spells for calling familiars.

    She snapped to attention, straight up like a bolt, her eyes wide and searching the room with vigour. Willow slopped messily to the door, upturning piles of papers and dislodging artefacts that had… collected… on her floors. She snapped a piece of chalk from the blackboard cupboard in the kitchen and rushed into the living room, mouthing syllables that threatened to disappear back into the recesses of her mind.

    She threw her rug aside and pushed the sofa back as far as it would go, revealing the darkwood floor beneath. Willow kneeled on the floor – her chalk circles were nothing short of perfect, by now, she’d drawn so many in her lifetime –and her mind reeled, sifting through the stores and stores of old knowledge that was her birthright. Willow drew.

    Let’s see... the first night after a new moon… a spell best performed at an in between time, preferably midnight… Willow looked up to squint at the blinds. The new rays of dawn peaked through, where she hadn’t shut them properly. Good enough, it still counted as an in between time… she should probably anoint the room with sage to ward off evil, but it was hidden somewhere in the mess of her home, and god knows she couldn’t be bothered to go treasure hunting for it now.

    It didn’t really cross her mind that she hadn’t taken the time to recall what she was summoning. In her sleep deprived state, she’d just picked the first familiar spell that came to mind, she hadn’t thought it through. A terrible way to do witchcraft, out of place for someone who was usually so particular. But perhaps some hand of fate was guiding Willow’s actions, and as the girl bit her thumb enough to draw blood, and slammed her bloody fingerprint into the final seal she had drawn, she thought – for the briefest of moments – that she had felt a surge of energy more powerful than anything she had ever experienced…

    She stared at the emptiness within the circle before her, groaned loudly, and crashed facefirst into the couch like a plank of wood.

    Her half-hearted attempts, her call for help, had gone unanswered… or so she thought.

    Little did she know, Willow had just summoned a Demon to her world.
  2. Kego watched the tall woman as she flopped onto the lounge, evidently exhausted. How pathetic. Someone so lazy and weak had dared to summon him? To call on him and be such an ungracious host-- it was simply inexcusable.

    "Rude." He scoffed.

    Kego stood well over six foot tall among the scattered paper. He was silent, like a shadow-- or perhaps more like a predator in the shadows... Long ebony hair hung like a curtain over his shoulder, framing a pale long face. He gave off no telltail energy. No clue as to who or what he might have been. Were it not for the cat-like point to his eyes, he may well have passed for human.

    He stood with his arms crossed, looking down the bridge of his nose at the woman, contemplating her punishment. How arrogant she must have been, thinking herself suited to be his charge? And without a proper offering. Child or not-- it was an offense that could scarcely be overlooked.
  3. "oh shutup." she drawled through the pillow. God, she was so tired, she didn't want to be hassled right now.

    A moment past. Another. Willow was in danger of drifting off in the sweet embrace of sleep when it hit her.

    She did not have a roommate.

    She moved her head a fraction. Then another. Then she stared ahead of her, doubting the shape of a figure she saw in the shadows. Were her eyes playing tricks on her? Was she so tired she was hallucinating now? Surely she must be... the summoning hadn't worked... had it?

    "I don't believe you're real." Willow observed, and it was no lie, because if she knew this man was real - and if she had known what he was - even a witch like her would be scared.
  4. "Oh, shutup."

    Kego scowled, narrowing his eyes. Shut... up? Had the woman really just ordered him to be silent? A low growl rumbled deep in his chest.

    Simply on the grounds that she had succeeded such a complex summoning, he would give her a moment to take back her words. He uncrossed his arms, his gaze unmoving and icy.

    Only a moment more--

    "I don't believe you're real." She said bluntly.

    Kego stared blankly, his glare falling flat. "You... what?" He asked, sounding puzzled. "You must be joking." His expression shifted to one of disdain. "Surely you must be the offering, rather then the summoner." He looked around the room, searching for who could have summoned him-- having written the dark haired girl off and little more then a fool.
  5. "I think I'm asleep right now, and you're my subconscious mocking me for failing my summoning spell." Ramona replied, rolling onto her back and placing the back of her hand against her forehead. "It was a pathetic attempt anyway," she mumbled, "When I wake up I'm going to be peeved with my sloppy handiwork." she sighed with contempt.

    Her eyelids closed. Goodness, had she been with so little sleep for so long that she even felt tired in her dreams? Well, Willow was not much of a dreamer. Her sleep usually was dark and endless, and that was how she liked it. Her phantom was mumbling about offerings and summoners. Willow frowned. Yes, dreamless sleeps were far more relaxing.

    "Offering... Summoners... Dreams... Nightmares... which one are you? If you're an offering, you're awfully outspoken..."
  6. Kego looked back to the woman, annoyed by the open blinds allowing sun in. Annoyed by her voice. Annoyed by her apparent sleepiness.

    "Enough." He growled.

    The shutters slammed shut, the lights burst, and Willow was tossed back onto her sofa. It was doubtful she felt tired now-- adrenaline was a wonderful chemical.

    The dark haired man stepped away from the wall, making his way over to her in two short steps. Though he stepped on the circle, his feet made no markings on the chalk. As he moved, the clutter and fallen papers righted themselves, as if even the books knew better then to affront him. The scattered papers stacked themselves on the desk nearly, corners lined up as though fresh from the ream. The glass from the broken lights swept itself into near piles, fleeing to the safety of the rubbish bin. The furniture squeaked loudly against the floor, returning to its proper places, dragging lines through the chalk circle where the man had not.

    The sofa jerked forward, stopping only inches from his legs.

    Willow was pulled up to a standing position by the front of her dress-- though Kego made no move to touch her. His icy blue eyes gave off a red glow. "Child, fool, or otherwise-- you've summoned me. As such, you will be a gracious host, or as a mistreated guest I will be fully within my rights to devour you, right now." He warned darkly. "Now, welcome me-- witch."
  7. Willow was wrenched foreward like a rag-doll. They were face to face, eye to eye, and Willow could only stare, unable to move, barely able to think. She tried to stop the shivers of fear running through her body, but she could not hide the truth.

    This man was a demon. He'd managed to fix her home without even an incarntation, without strain, and manipulated her like a toy. She'd thought to summon an imp or an inbued cat or something but this... this was far stronger.

    Willow had dealt with dark creatures, she'd weaved them away from the world of mortals, she'd hunted them in the darkest corners and slipped into their worlds sometimes to chase and bind them. But never, ever had she been so stupid to invite something so powerful into her home when she was so weak.

    "I have made a grave mistake, my lord." her lips curled around the word in a grimace. How utterly humiliating. "Please forgive my actions, I am not in my right mind." for summoning you, too, what the hell had I been thinking? "An... an offering is in order, correct? Will something supernatural do?"
  8. "Lord..." He echoed the title and frowned. "I am a teacher-- a scholar-- not some ignorant noble." His eyes cooled back to their icy blue, though there was an undeniable edge to them. She'd angered him. In short, she was lucky to be alive and suffer the equivalent of a mild scolding.

    "The blood you used in the summoning serves as a promise for a meal." Kego scoffed, Willow being released to stand on her own or fall back onto the sofa. "As it was your blood, I can wait until you die to feast. What I require is a vessel."

    A vessel. Either he planned on leaving to explore the world, or he planned on sticking around with that sort of request. He needed a puppet to inhabit, to possess, for protection from-- something. At the very least to remain unseen by sensitive humans.
  9. Willow quirked an eyebrow at that. Come to think of it, she really knew little about demon culture. Somehow, knowing he ocnsidered himself a scholar was oddly comforting - despite the fact she was still floating in the air.

    Just like that he let her go, and her bare feet came to rest against the hardwood floor. She rolled her shoulders for the ache.

    "A promise of a meal, yes, but it was also supposed to bind you to your summoner. Since I am both, it seems you can do me harm. But... it is very gracious of you not to kill me and wait for my natural demise." which, she thought, given the nature of her occupation, could be far sooner then she'd like.

    "A vessel. hmm." She went to the kitchen window - so as not to cast the sun's rays on her guest - and opened it. The morning air was cold, and light birdsong drifted in few the window.

    "I hadn't planned for this." It was evident, "but there are a few stray cats outside... some dogs, too, birds if that's your flavour. Alternatively, you may look through my books and papers for a magical creature to inhabit. No need to be shy, in that regard." She paused.

    "Unless... unless you'd prefer a human host..." she trailed off, clearly reluctant to encourage the sort of work that would entail. The morgue wasn't a nice place to be, and morally she couldn't stomach visiting the hospital, either. There were stories, of course, of people who were sick enoguh they'd willingly share their bodies with a demon in exchange for good health when the demon departed. But... still...

    She looked at him, awaiting his answer.
  10. "A cat will do nicely." He said, seating himself on her sofa, crossing one leg over the other, resting his chin on his hand in a bored fashion. He kept his eyes on her, though looked away when she opened the blinds, frowning slightly at the harshness of the sunlight. It wasn't as though the sun could hurt him in any lasting way-- though it would take time for his eyes to adjust after spending years in darkness.

    "Once you've had time to rest we will discuss the terms of our contract." He added, examining his shoulder before blowing off a bit of lint. There was no need to keep the exhausted woman up any longer then necessary. Clearly, she understood what was going on now. That he was no figment of her imagination. It would only be fair to wait for her to be fully cognitive before sealing their deal. For now, he would busy himself with getting acquainted with the vessel of her choice and allow her to sleep.

    It was better to make deals under moonlight anyway. What was more, a few hours was nothing to him-- less then the blink of an eye. It was no skin off his back to wait.
  11. She flicked her eyes back to the street below, watching a black cat prowl along the cobbles. Her eyes narrowed at the creature and it froze in place, turning it's head slowly to look up at her. It's tail twitched. Willow stood still as a statue. They stared at each other, and slowly, so slowly, the cat began to make it's way up to the kitchen window.

    She whisked the cat up into her arms as it came within reach, and the creature didn't seem to mind much as she closed the window with the smallest of shivers. She ran a hand through it's fur, rubbed it's ears, stared into it's eyes and checked it's teeth. This cat didn't seem to mind that she looked so intensely at it, in fact it regarded her with a lazy sort of acceptance.

    "A healthy specimen, from what I can tell." Willow sat down on the sofa and placed the cat down. It stretched luxuriously and pawed at the fabric, claws out and all, making an annoying clicking sound as it threatened to pull out some threads.

    "Once you've had time to rest we will discuss the terms of our contract." the demon said, and Willow nodded, and nodded again involuntarily as her eyelids felt pulled down by weights, and then her chin fell to her chest and she fell asleep right then and there on the sofa. The summoning had taken a lot out of someone who was already deprived of energy, and coaxing the cat to the window had been the last straw. She crumpled onto the arm of the settee, and would sleep until evening.
  12. When Willow awoke, she was greeted with the vibrant yellow eyes of a cat.

    The black stray from earlier butted it's head against her chin, meowing once before crawling off of her chest, sitting down beside her pillow, it's tail wrapped around its feet. The cat yawned lazily.

    She was in her bed, the curtains to her room drawn shut-- though the sun had since faded. The ceiling fan clicked rhythmically above her, the beads on the chain to the light lightly tapping against the glass dome.

    "Finally awake?" The voice from earlier chided lightly. It hadn't been a dream after all. The demon stood in her door way, watching her though bored, cold eyes. "Do you remember our conversation from earlier, woman?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.
  13. Willow's dreams were turbulent as usual. Ink black runes hung in the air like static noise, falling across her line of vision like curtains in the wind. Whispers died into hissing background noise as Willow walked down the dark, claustrophobic corridor. She usually dreamt in mostly monochrome, and tonight was no exception.

    The runes congealed and twisted together into patterns, vertical bars either sides of her body. She could see dark solid forms through those bars, creatures that prowled in the dark shadows. Good, she thought. Let them stay there. Willow continued on her patrol.

    The walls either side parted way and Willow followed the path to the end. She was standing on a precipise in the middle of an immense, egg-shaped cavern. All around her, cages hung by runes in the empty abyss - many were filled, some were not. The work of her and her ancestors, stretching back from now into time immemorial.

    Space shifted in the way space shifts in dreams, and Willow was standing before the largest cage in her keep, the hulking black form inside the back of some momentous creature. It turned it's head towards her, two bright red eyes filling her dark dreams with a splash of colour.

    She could see herself reflected in them so perfectly.

    "Can't hold us forever, kitten."

    A cat mewed.

    Willow's eyelids snapped open and she sat up, back straight, her gaze flicking once to the cat, to the ceiling fan above, and then to the man who stood in her doorway. She turned her head towards him, her once dozy, bleary eyes now sharp and bright.

    "Willow. My name is Willow. And yes, I do apologise for my impertinence when we met." She scooped up the cat and tucked it's head under her chin, walking over to the curtain to prod it open momentarily and then letting it fall. She spun on her heels. "You wanted to discuss the terms of our contract, Mr...?" Willow faltered. She doubted Mr was an appropriate honorific for a demon from hell, but she hadn't much experience with demonic scholars. "...How should I address you?"
  14. The demon frowned at her for a moment. "I'll give you my name when we have come to an agreement." He said carefully. "For now, Teacher will suffice."

    Names held power. While she may have been foolish enough to give him her name before a deal had been struck, he was wasn't likely to make the same mistake.

    The cat in her arms purred happily, batting at her chin. "At least the vessel seems fond of you. It should make our relationship all the more smooth." The demon mused, moving out of her door way. He stepped into the room, holding his own arms out. The cat's yellow eyes flickered over to him before leaping over, moving lightly on it's feet. Typically such a stunt would have resulted in Willow being scratched. Not this time. The cat's tail left a blur in it's wake, like a stream of smoke as it settled down into the tall man's arms, purring loudly.

    "So then." The devil, who refereed to himself merely as teacher, looked back to her, raising an eyebrow. "Summoning me was no small feat. You must have needed some form of guidance in a truly desperate manner to break the seals that bound me... Why not begin this negotiation by explaining what you need."