demonlys

[demonlys]

aurora's hands rest on her waist and zehra's own twitch with the impulse to reach out again. she knows those hands; they used to hold her so carefully, so tenderly, as if the demon was something worth protecting. but not anymore. now, those hands are defensive. the ache in her chest returns, but she shoves it down into an ever-growing box of inconvenient emotions and pulls herself back to the present. the trademark smirk falters for a brief moment before she's back to her usual self, her mask firmly in place. then, she smiles but it's crooked and deflective. it's a habit, a reflex. this is how she hides the things she doesn't want to feel. the real problem isn’t the imp or the scorched grass or even the beautiful tension in aurora's jaw. it's that zehra feels something stupidly soft unfurling and she wonders, just for a second, whether this is a mistake. the urge to come clean itches under demonic skin, she has to force herself to ignore it. it's not like their old connection is still there, the voice inside her murmurs as she sinks deeper into the charade. her gaze drifts back to the gorgon, aurora's stern expression makes the older brunette tilt her head just enough to show she's not really taking the disapproval seriously. “ ahh, i see what's happening here, ” she says, voice laced with amusement. “ you're right, of course. anyone with a desk somewhere in town hall should take their role seriously once in a while, ” she tosses a wink so over-the-top it practically screams: i don't mean a word of this. “ don't worry, i will happily donate to your cause, ” zehra leans forward, keeping her voice conspiratorial, “ honestly, lieutenant, i'm not all that shady. but then again, i am a demon, so i guess a bit of bribery isn't exactly out of character. ” a pause for effect, eyes sparkling with mischief, fine lines crinkling at the corners as she slips a hand into her pocket and pulls out a cherry-flavored lollipop. she holds it out as if it was a playful bribe meant to sweeten the exchange. but, she prefers to think of it as a peace offering, “ for your troubles. ”    it's usually easier if zehra pretends it's all a joke, but even though her tone is light, her heart doesn't follow and the polite rejection cuts like a knife. she almost laughs and it would be a self-deprecating sound that comes out, because the gorgon is right ⸺ aurora may not be the kind of person the demon would take for drinks, but she is the kind zehra has wanted to rewrite whole chapters of her demonic existence for. the words never leave her mouth, she bites back the chuckle that wants to crawl up her throat before the truth can make a fool of her.

“ careful, lieutenant otero. i might start thinking you really don't want to spend time with me. ” plump lips purse into an exaggerated pout and she curls her fingers to form a heart, then pulls them apart as if breaking it in half. aurora's question is met with a derisive snort, the kind that says "oh, suuuuuuure". zehra holds both hands up, the universal not my circus, not my monkeys gesture, but stops halfway, a hand hanging in the air with uncertainty like even the air itself knows the demon’s full of it. she drops it with a defeated sigh. “ i did summon the imp from the fiery pits, but pipthorn has a mind of his own [ ... ] he's not some hell-puppet with strings. i can't make him obey, but i can ask him to shake up a round of whiskey sours. ” cherry candies, whiskey sours ⸺ zehra wonders if these old favorites might stir something in the gorgon's memory and spare them all the theatrics. zehra's theatrics, at least. the sooner all the truths come to light, the sooner she can forget what it was like to care. and yet, despite that, a part of her hesitates. how annoying. “ come on, aurora, after everything that's been going on, don't you think we could use something to take the edge off ? ” she glances at the imp, brows arched in a silent request. there's no need for words when he's already been shamelessly eavesdropping. pip scampers off without protest and once he's gone, zehra sinks into one of the lounge chairs, gesturing to the empty seat across from her. “ sit down, sweetie. if we're about to dig up ghosts, we might as well get comfortable. ”

Even though Aurora is not a stranger to people making advances at her, the way Zehra Ardali, Supernatural Arbitrator to the City Hall spoke, made the gorgon tilt her head to the side in slight annoyance. Usually, whenever she spoke, people would listen. However, that did not seem the case with the demon standing across from her. It reminded her of an old lover. It reminded her of another person named Zehra. Someone that was by her side when Rory allowed her heart to open up to someone and allowed herself to heal in the purest way possible: in the arms of a lover. 

Belpharion to most, but Zehra to her, Aurora realized too late those years ago, that she had been dancing that dance all by herself. The brief touch of their hands brought forth another familiar feeling that washed over her body like a warm wave. An awakened memory that was dormant in her chest. The wind blew past them, reminding Aurora of the same particular scent Zehra wore... and she had to remind herself that people could wear the same perfume and it not meant anything. The painful memory tugged on her heartstrings, causing the gorgon to adjust her back uncomfortably as she rested her hands on her waist upon being called cute. Zehra liked doing that, too.

She was no stranger to jokes, she was no stranger to flirtatious words, but Rory was a person that came with a lot of baggage. With lots of things she couldn’t forget. And falling in love, as well as letting others into her life, wasn’t as easy as it used to be centuries ago, back when innocent still belonged to her. Before imprisonment was a reality and it destroyed her from the inside.

“Excuse me?” She furrowed her brows, as if trying to erase the tone that Zehra used to use with her in the past when the demon was trying to make her laugh. And laugh she used to do in Zehra’s company. “Ma’am…” A sigh escaped her lips at the sign of defeat. It almost felt like she was being laughed at. The title she’d worked hard to earn, feeling like a laughing stock to the demon. “I am being serious here. Just because you work for town hall, that doesn’t give you the right to waste town’s resources.” Especially not after everything Portum had gone through in the last few weeks. They were still recovering from the impromptu fires, the werewolves attacking others, vampires drinking more than they should have and gorgons turning others against their will… but something that Rory loved the most about Portum was their sense of community. And how together, the entire town was trying to move past their darkest days.

The invitation for a drink caught her off guard and for the first time in a few weeks, Aurora didn’t have an answer on the tip of her tongue to give out. Technically, she would be off duty in twenty minutes, but it just didn’t feel right to go out for drinks with someone who’d been involved in a house call. 

“Look, Miss Ardali–” Again, Rory sighed. Had her hair not be perfectly tied up in braids behind her head, she would definitely be running her fingers through messy waves. “I appreciate the invite, but I’m sure I’m not the type of person you’d like to have over for drinks.” Not because she didn't think she deserved it. Aurora knew she was beautiful and she knew people tended to get interested in her. But she ar too busy, far too broken. “Can you certify your tax write-off of an imp will not be making more unsolicited calls to the station?”

[demonlys]

[demonlys]

the demon glances at him from the corner of her eye, the playfulness in his demeanor doesn't escape her notice. she's not surprised by his antics. after all, werewolves are creatures of impulse, aren't they ? she tilts her head as if trying to decide whether or not he's worth her time. “ such delightful offers, ” she says, eyes rolling but lips curling up nonetheless. he's amusing, she'll give him that. still, there's something about the way he speaks that rubs her the wrong way, like a mosquito buzzing a little too lose to her ear. zehra fights the urge to swat it away for now. “ you think you can steal from me, little wolf ? that's adorable, ” she chuckles, the sound more mocking than amused.

SETTING — the bonfire , unspecified location ( dealer’s choice ) , open starter

— I love pretending nothing is happening, it’s my favorite activity after picking up unsuspecting wallets and kissing sad, beautiful faces. — He commented to the person beside him, with a charming and playful demeanor. — What’s it gonna be for you today? We can talk about the weather and pretend nothing is happening, or I can pick your wallet when you’re not looking. I can also buy you a drink and offer a little smooch for your troubles. — He raised his eyebrows and put his hands inside his pockets, with a boyish smile.

[demonlys]

her nostrils flare slightly as she inhales, confused for a moment. is that… burning flesh ? the demon's senses are still scrambled from the recent upheaval and the odd smell of burned things that lingers in her nostrils tugs her focus back to biscuit. it's not from the bonfire, she muses, and ventures farther away from the remnants of the celebrations. zehra steps forward, another twig cracking underfoot, a sound far too loud in the stillness of the night. she squints at the figure in front of her, catching the last wisps of smoke curling up from the cigarette held between the gorgon's fingers. ah, so it's not biscuit this time. “ i was hoping for a bit more enthusiasm, ” she tuts, her tone playful. “ you wouldn't happen to have seen my hellhound, would you ? she's been playing with fire again. ”

status : open [1/3] where : the edges of the woods, just after the bonfire.

the  lighter  made  a  metallic  snap  as  she  flicked  it  open.  the  flame  a  modest,  somewhat  feeble  affair  compared  to  the  dwindling  inferno  that was  the  bonfire  but  a  short  distance  away.  her  cigarette  between  her  fingers  blazed  as  she  took  a  slow,  luxurious  drag.  her  gaze  venturing  upwards  towards  the  stars  that  peeked  out  between  the  canopy  of  the  forest.  old,  familiar  friends.  though  she  would  never  admit  it,  she  loved  nights  like  these.  nights  when  the  town  came  together.  celebrating  yet  another  year  of  helen  aldersley's  sanctuary. the  pessimist  in  her,  the  one  that  had  drawn  her  away  from  the  revelry  and  warmth  of  the  crowd,  wondered  how  many  more  they  had.  how  many  more  they  could  afford  before  it  all  came  crashing  down  around  them.  the  cigarette  flared  again,  longer  this  time  as  she  inhaled  another  lungful  of  nicotine  laced  smoke  and  closed  her  eyes  against  it  all.  any  other  year,  she  would  have  been  at least a  dozen  glasses  deep  by  now,  buzzing  on  cheap  alcohol,  the  thrum  of  the  live  music  and  making  solid  headway  with  her  next  poor  decision.  instead  she  was  out  here,  on  the  fringes  of  it  all, lingering after the bonfire had ended,  navel  gazing  and  preparing  for  the  worst.  waiting  for  the  inevitable  fuckery  to  descend.  summer  nights  like  this  were  a  gift,  yet  she  was  the  bitch  that  always  needed  to  keep  the  receipt.  always  needed  to  --- there  was  a  snap.  a crack of twigs, sharp  and  distinct  behind  her.  her  head  turned,  eyes  opening  to  adjust  to  the  deeper  darkness  that  lay  beyond  the  dwindling  glow  of  the  firelight.  she  exhaled  slowly,  letting  the  smoke  coil  up  around  her  features  as  she  called  out.  "if  you're  a  shoe  looking  to  drop,  you  can  fuck  right  off. come back during office hours." 

[demonlys]

unions, marriages, whatever they call them, are nothing but strategic moves. she's seen them before; demons clinging to one another, trading power like stocks. that was the way of the mephistophelim. unions between demons aren't about love, they're about benefit ⸺ zehra learned that lesson long ago and it felt like a death sentence. she can't help the bitterness that curls deep inside. maybe it's because she had something that wasn't transactional once. she swallows down the ache, forcing the memory to retreat. there's something about kiyan's tone, some faint flicker of conviction in his words, that she wishes felt foreign. she watches him for a long moment, lips twitching with the ghost of a smile. “ i can hear it, you know, ” she says casually. the other demon speaks with such... fondness, zehra wonders if it's directed at the vampire or something else. someone else, perhaps. “ tell me, darling, have you found someone who makes the idea palatable ? ” she teases, but there's no malice in her tone, just genuine curiosity. maybe kiyan's right ( she knows they are ), it certainly can be fun. and zehra herself could use the distraction. but she settles for a different kind of distraction instead: finding a test subject. she briefly wonders if the town likes the idea and immediately wants to punch herself for even thinking the town could like anything. places aren't supposed to have opinions. “ i'm not picky, ” she sweeps a hand lazily toward the horizon, where the town's boundary lingers like a looming threat. zehra's not afraid, but she's not thrilled either. “ who's the unlucky soul you want to sacrifice ? let's hear it. ”

her reaction to the topic of marriage brings a lighthearted laugh out of him. "if it makes him less miserable, I will support it. I reckon we'll see him smile more times during the wedding than we've ever done until now." he shrugged, "the only issue with monogamy is that mortals take it far too seriously. it can be fun in some ways. it can bring out the worst in people. and that's... hot." kiyan had his fair share of overprotective and possessive exes, and he happily ignored the red flags in the name of lust. of course, later on he also had to reap what he sowed. he wouldn't be a demon if he didn't have to. the mention of everything that was happening to the town possibly being a plan slowly coming to fruition, awakens a sense of dread in kiyan that he kept locked away for a very long time. and he hated it. a shiver ran down his spine and he tilted his head to the side, uncomfortable, as if something was crawling underneath his skin. "that is a brilliant idea. we should shove someone across the boundary. have you got anyone in mind? I might..."

[demonlys]

✧˖ ° closed starter / kareem's office , with kareem ( @avdaciter )

the door to dr. howard's office flies open with a dramatic bang, because ⸺ of course, it does. the demon doesn't walk in so much as arrive, like a storm wrapped in a pantsuit. there's no appointment, no knocking, just uninvited chaos and the sound of heels clicking on tiled floors. the idea of a demon doing therapy feels like the setup to a bad joke, except that zehra isn't laughing. she's been feeling things and needs the doctor to fix it. desperate times call for desperate visits, she supposes. “ i'm here, ” the brunette announces as if her presence had been expected and sinks into the couch, brown eyes glinting with high expectations. she's heard his talk therapy works wonders on troubled souls though she suspects hers might be a little more complicated. “ let's say you cross paths with a former flame after a few decades apart. tell me, doctor, what's the etiquette ? ” she holds a hand up, like she's trying to physically stop them from interjecting even before they have the chance to. “ no maiming, no soul-shackling curses, not even a light kidnapping of their favorite pet [ ... ] ” she lists the options off like going over a grocery list, “ surely, you understand my frustrations. if all the usual options are off the table, what's left ? ” honestly, what was left ? civil conversation ? small talk ? or hell forbid ⸺ closure ?

[demonlys]

the demon would apologize, but this little disaster isn't of her own making. and if it had been her fault ? she'd probably be proud of it, but that's beside the point. instead, she nods slowly, as if feeling the weight of the reality they face. it's true, after all; discomfort that's both unwelcome as it is unavoidable for the pain the witch has been sensing isn't really vitha's, it's zehra's. dull and distant but unmistakably real. a reminder that they're tied together in ways neither asked for ⸺ a fate not chosen but inflicted. theirs is a friendship forged on reluctant necessity and though zehra won't admit it, there's something strangely satisfying about the slow burn of their connection. it's not completely unpleasant. sometimes, she doesn't mind it. at times, she actually enjoys it. but... she's been accused of having masochistic tendencies before. a demon thing, perhaps. the idea that the town is messing with her is almost insulting, so zehra doesn't respond right away. demons aren't supposed to be affected by things like soil and the weather. still, the witch isn't wrong and that's the worst part. “ i suppose that's a rather unfortunate possibility, ” she admits, “ i'd much prefer a curse. ” beneath the admission lurks the more inconvenient truth: if it's not a curse then it's not something she can break. arching a brow, her lips curl into a playful smile. the demon recognizes the deliberate attempt at subtlety and, still, willingly takes the bait, as if she didn't already know when someone likes to poke where the blood still steams. “ let's just say daddy's idea of affection is a little unconventional. ” she shrugs, dismissive. “ in any case, i'll appreciate the cloaking spell even if it turns out not to be a curse. ” it couldn't hurt, being kept low under the radar, especially now. “ i've spilled my smoke and shadow. now, your turn. how are you holding up ? ”

vitha knew she had to be a bit more careful with demons. but in her mind, they were a better option at getting things done than relying on other witches. being bound to the demon had not been as bad as it seemed either, ensuring some sort of loyalty. at least ensuring that their deals went smoothly. aside from that, the demon was smart and saavy; she'd been useful to have an in with. ❝ so that's what that's been, ❞ she examines her own hand for a moment, feeling something fainter but still distracting. not some side effect from whatever was effecting their magic. but she wonders if its really a curse or not. ❝ risky right now for sure. but i think i can manage something. ❞ a few passing thoughts cross her mind, already strumming up solutions for the rockiness. ❝ is it possible it's not a curse? just from whatever has been going on? we can do something just to be sure but is it possible that the town is having some effect on you? ❞ a smirk hides behind a sip. ❝ unless there is someone you know would be doing such. ❞

[demonlys]

[demonlys]

zehra lets her gaze linger a little too long. not enough to be caught, but just enough to remember. laughter brushing against her neck, walls coming down slowly without her realizing they were falling, internal organs doing very undemonic fluttering things. something tightens in her chest. the demon ignores it. she shoves it all down and masks it with her usual smirk, a fast fix to whatever just stirred inside. “ miss ardali ? ” she echoes, the name rolling off her tongue like it belongs to someone else because once, it actually did. aurora doesn't recognize her. of course they don't ⸺ zehra looked different back when the curve of the gorgon's smile meant something. a less cowardly creature might say it meant everything. “ you're very official. it's cute. ” the worst part is, she means it. pipthorn groans from behind the lounge chair. zehra doesn't look his way. there's a part of her that knows she should come clean and she will, eventually. still, she figures that, if she's going to spiral back into complicated emotions, she should have some fun doing it. it's reckless. cruel, maybe. but it's safer than the truth, isn't it ? “ lieutenant otero, ” she purrs, biting the inside of her cheek to keep the smirk from growing too wide. “ thanks for the… passionate public service. ” brown orbs flick to the outstretched hand, hesitating for a moment before taking it. she regrets it immediately. sudden warmth spreads through her fingertips, making the demon pull back quickly and look away to hide the shock. instead, she pretends to find the baseball-shaped scorch marks on the grass more interesting than the lecture. to be fair, she's only half-listening to it anyway. if she's to be scolded, she'd much rather it be over something more exciting than proper emergency protocols and town resources. preferably in a more intimate setting, but that's neither here nor ther-— son ? zehra whirls back around to face aurora, arms folded across her chest, chin tilted. completely aghast. the speech takes a backseat to the real offense. “ son ?! what a foul accusation, ” her voice climbs a register, scandalized. “ he's barely a tax write-off. ” or he would be if he was an actual employee and she paid taxes. does she pay taxes ? she'll have to ask pip. she waves a dismissive hand in his general direction, “ no offense, darling. ” her annoyance quickly melts into amusement, as if what just unsettled her now seems more entertaining than offensive. the demon suspects the gorgon's irritation is to blame, it ignites her cheeky, teasing nature; tempting her to push boundaries just a little further. “ i don't know, lieutenant. i feel like i almost understood you. ” she rubs her chin in a gesture of thought so intense it becomes physical, an obvious almost comical exaggeration. “ let's see. you said i shouldn't leave my hellhound unsupervised while she's busy lighting things on fire, ” a glance to biscuit, now licking ash off her paw. “ she identifies as a labrador, by the way, ” zehra adds casually. “ oh ! something about the fire department not making house calls if things start to burn. ” pipthorn lets out a muffled "eeeep" behind the cushion, hat still smoking. “ next time either of you play with fire, at least invite me, ” she says, addressing the pup and the help before turning her attention back to the gorgon, eyebrows quirking up.

“ i might need the lecture again. slowly this time, with more hand gestures. but you'll have to be very stern, lieutenant otero. i'm a terrible listener. ” her eyes sweep aurora's frame with zero shame, “ over drinks, maybe ? assuming, of course, you're free after saving the town from my four legged pyromaniac. ”

Perfect braids that culminated in a bun on the back of her head adored Rory’s face that late afternoon. It was her usual hairdo of choice when she was working because the firefighter knew there should not be any distraction at her line of work. So, that afternoon, when she arrived at the Ardali residence and was met by an imp with their hat on fire, the gorgon wished she hadn’t left her house that morning. 

Pranks weren’t common among adults, and children knew how not to call the fire department for nothing, so, of course, Rory was pissed. She was halfway through her lecture to the imp when the house owner showed up. These type of shit was supposed to have ended last week or so, and yet, here she was.

“Are you Miss Ardali?” Rory asked, her firefighter uniform hanging over her shoulders as her hands rested on her hips. One of them moved up to offer it to the demon. “Good afternoon, ma'am. I'm lieutenant Otero from Station 13." Then, Rory motioned said hand to the hellhound, then the imp. "Your hellhound apparently breathed fire and your imp decided to call us. Ma’am, you do know they should not call the fire department for that, right?” And as pissed as Aurora was at the council, the gorgon couldn’t help but think as a firefighter lieutenant above being a Portum angry citizen. “Your–uh… friend? Son? Whatever they are, have willingly made us waste time and resources to be here.” And now she was lecturing a demon. Great. 

There was something highly familiar about the demon, though. Like they had met before. Some kind of deja vu, but Rory was too angry to ask about it. “If you are planning on joining the rest of the town by the shores, I would advise you not to leave your hellhound alone.” She explained. “Was I clear?”

[demonlys]

she pops a gooey, slightly burnt s'more into her mouth, chewing slowly to really savor the bitter tang of the charred edges. “ i like distractions, ” she licks marshmallow fluff off delicate digit, the sugar singeing faintly where it touches skin. s'mores may not be infernal cuisine, but zehra enjoys the incongruity. maybe that's also why she welcomes tonight's celebrations ⸺ the sweetness amidst so much chaos, she delights in the unsettling contrast. “ though, ” the demon adds, “ if they did perform a ritual, it was sloppy work. all the fun's gone. ” losing control of her powers hadn't been fun, but this smells less like conspiracy and more like governing to her. “ a bit of misdirection here, a whole lot of noise over there. i believe that's just called politics. it's always been the nastiest kind of dark art around here, ” she makes a tsk-ing sound with her tongue, “ i wonder when we'll get to the part where they start tearing each other apart trying to assign blame. ” not counting the so-called animal fight, of course. that was just a desperate attempt to find a culprit.

portum annual bonfire, ft. open

“ do the council really think we can be so easily distracted ? ” cristian says derisively, standing well back from the actual celebrations. “ they have spent almost half a year saying nothing about one misfortune after another, and now they want to move on with life as if nothing has happened ? ” xe is seriously contemplating moving, going back to wandering the oceans, if only because the only drama out there is what you make for yourself. “ i would not be surprised if they were the ones who performed some illicit ritual in the forest, at this point. ”

[demonlys]

“ married ? ” she repeats, the word tastes like ash on her tongue, “ ugh. that's even worse than a buzzcut. ” marriage struck her as a very human trap, a bit like taxes or guilt. “ monogamy is such a mortal affliction, ” she sneers, her voice dripping with disdain but a flicker of something else gnaws at her. a twisted ache, not for love specifically but the certainty. the stability in a world that's falling apart. zehra shoves it deep back into the shadows. brunette femme turns to look at the other demon, her lips pursing like she just took a bite of something sour. the idea of another drink is enough to make her stomach churn. her hangover still thrums in her bones, but it has company now in the creeping sense of unease curling beneath her skin. she nods in response to kiyan's words, he's right about something being up, wrong with the town. “ i don't like it, ” she mutters. “ it feels… calculated. like we're being softened up before a proper strike. ” she shifts her weight, heels digging into the cursed soil of portum, “ i don't like being played, especially not by geography. ” the older demon kicks one of the discarded pebbles as if it personally offended her when a thought dawns on her. “ what if it's not possible to leave town unscathed ? let's shove someone across the boundaries and see if they get to keep all their limbs. ” the idea is tossed out with a grin, kind of joking but not totally joking.

"I know, it's awful!" he actually took it somewhat seriously. well, as seriously as he did his powers messing up constantly lately. the last thing he wanted was to be out of control in his own vessel. because it was his. he took it unfair and unsquare, and he took great care of it. the unfortunate soul who was born into it would only mess it up again. "he's not so brooding anymore. didn't you hear? he's getting married." was that his secret to tell? no. did he care if zehra knew? no. they both had bigger fish to fry. like not being bald at the wedding. or getting their chaos under control. however that may sound. "hangover's not a real problem, zeze. it's a state of mind. the secret is to stay drunk." he shrugged. "something's up with this town. changes far too much, far too quickly. I'd hate having to move out. it hasn't even been a century yet!"

[demonlys]

zehra gets it, the importance of keeping your allies on their toes… and even watching them stumble a little, every now and then. “ keeping allies on edge, ” she repeats, “ now that's a love language. ” it's refreshing; while most try to tiptoe around demons, vitha prefers to dance. bold little witch. her gaze cuts to vitha's, studying her reaction, watching for signs of hesitation or disinterest. none appear. good. “ straight to business. ” the corners of her mouth twitch up. “ and here i was, enjoying the foreplay, ” the demon teases and leans back with exaggerated ease, hands laced behind her head as if her next words aren't important.

“ i've been experiencing rather agonizing summons lately. ” being summoned has always been painful, yes, but it used to be bearable. calls that burn through infernal flesh, however, are not normal. “ it's become a nightmare. i can feel the summoner trying to pull me in, but something's off and i can't quite get through. it's like, the call is jammed or... blocked and the longer i can't answer, the more it scorches through me, ” she says, curling her fingers as if trying to shake off a fire crawling beneath her skin. “ i suspect i've been cursed. ” her voice sounds uncertain, like she doesn't fully believe it herself. deep down, she knows exactly who could be behind something like this and part of her almost hopes that's the case. it would be easier to blame a curse than face the truth ⸺ that she's losing control of her powers. “ i need a cloaking spell, something strong enough to mask my presence until i can figure out what's wrong, ” she continues, “ all things considered, how risky would that be right now ? ”

❝ i like to keep even my allies on their toes, ❞ a gentle laugh leaves her. she might see some as putty, even other beings she 'worked with' in the past, using them rather than working with them. and then there were some she not only valued too much to treat that way, but knew they were incapable of falling prey to her ways. of course she would want to keep those sharp close by. ❝ and i'll be very thankful. ❞ vitha didn't truly believe that a little flattery would be all she had give but she hadn't expected an ask so soon. eyes narrow in a glare, somewhat playfully, smirk accompanying it. it was almost as if the demon had this lying in wait. ❝ tinsy tiny, huh? i'll be the judge of that — let's hear it. ❞ and underlying heir of excitement in her tone.

[demonlys]

as a demon, she's used to being blamed for chaos. sometimes even rightly so. but this feels like lazy scapegoating or something. some might call the evidence now dangling between two fingers like an unwanted receipt pretty damning, but zehra never asked to be anyone's patron demon. “ they took a sarcastic rant i made centuries ago and turned it into gospel. can you imagine ? ” a snort. “ if i had a soul for every idiot who dragged my name into their little rebellion... ” a hand waves dismissively as she lets the words trail off and leans back on the bench, then adds, “ they want a symbol. a demon with a pretty face and a rebellious past. apparently, it sells better. ” a shrug follows. sure, she gave a few speeches ⸺ you know, fight the system, free your soul, don't trust celestial bureaucracy… that sort of thing. that certainly shouldn't make her the poster girl for rebellion in morally questionable circles, treating her almost like she's some kind of che guevara with eyeliner and designer heels. nose wrinkles in disgust, like the idea offends her aesthetic more than her morals.

she straightens, brushing imaginary dust from her lap. “ so, yes, valeria, i'm indirectly involved the way fire is indirectly involved in arson. but i didn't light the match. ” the demon doesn't think the hellraisers have the wits and smarts to crack portum's wards, but unhappy accidents have led to major breakthroughs that changed lives if mortal history is anything to go by. while zehra isn't interested in leading a misguided fan club, she's obviously not enthusiastic about the prospect of having to clean up their mess either. “ uhm. you don't… actually think they are behind the town's current problems, do you ? i mean, if you are sniffing around, something's wrong. ” she rises, stepping into the reaper's space, just close enough to test the edges of patience without breaking decorum. “ maybe we stop throwing shade and start comparing notes, hmm ? ” a devilish smirk taints her petals. “ unless, of course, you'd rather interrogate me over, let's say, lunch ? dinner ? i'm told i make an excellent suspect ! ”

         valeria  normally  pays  no  mind  to  the  so  called  ‘  hellraisers  of  freedom  ’  .  the  little  ragtag  group  of  demons  had  proven  time  and  time  again  to  be  nothing  but  a  nuisance  .  they  had  been  fortunate  enough  to  avoid  them  whilst  guiding  souls  into  the  afterlife  .  but  their  little  …  run  in  with  the  group  prior  to  the  arrival  to  portum  had  been  the  last  straw  .  between  being  taken  hostage  and  then  arriving  in  a  town  where  the  supposed  guarantee  for  safety  had  started  to  fracture  ,  curiosity  continues  to  jab  at  them  .  could  this  group  of  demons  have  something  to  do  with  this  ?  unlikely  as  they  haven’t  been  able  to  really  yield  any  results  .  but  to  cover  their  bases  ,  they’d  rather  get  confirmation  themselves  .  and  when  valeria  caught  wind  that  zehra  of  all  people  were  here  ,  well  ,  that  necessitates  answers  .  they’re  not  going  to  assume  that  she’s  behind  all  this  .  

now  they  didn’t  set  out  to  purposely  find  the  demon  but  when  their  walk  along  the  docks  presents  them  with  the  opportunity  ,  they’re  taking  it  .  heeled  boots  click  against  the  pavement  as  they  approach  zehra  and  halt  .  arms  are  folded  across  their  chest  as  they  catch  the  tail  end  of  her  conversation  and  spots  the  polaroid  in  hand  .  as  soon  as  they  meet  her  gaze  ,  valeria  raises  an  inquisitive  brow  .  “  i  should  hope  it’s  not  but  you  have  to  admit  it’s  rather  …  incriminating  ,  ”  the  reaper  deadpans  .  “  last  i  heard  ,  they  ,  ”  chin  tilts  towards  the  picture  .  “  are  still  running  around  claiming  you’re  their  leader  .  and  while  i  understand  that  you  want  no  part  of  it  ,  you’re  still  indirectly  involved  .  ”  

[demonlys]

head shakes as she lets out a mocking chuckle, the sound is half amusement, half disbelief at the whole tragic act the other demon is putting on. she swirls the straw in her milkshake again and takes a slow, long sip, like she's savoring every second of his frustration. his mistake is thinking zehra can't listen, when really, she just doesn't listen to him. femme demon is not deaf to reason but xavier's ramblings are drowned in nonsense. “ you're torturous, you know that ? ” is said before she slaps an addendum, “ but not in a fun way. ” flicking her wrist, she sends a stray lock of dark hair behind her shoulder. “ by all that's unholy, i already agreed to a truce ⸺ you can quit trying to convince me, ” tongue clicks against roof of mouth with a disapproving tsk-tsk, “ begging is most unbecoming for a demon of your seniority. ” he's also sucking the fun out of making a creature plead, which is actually more important. after stirring the straw one last time, she pops it out and slurps the last drops from the bottom before pointing it at him like a sharp finger of blame. “ yet here you are, dumping your own problems on a poor, unsuspecting soul. at least you get paid to listen to everyone else's drama ! ” a younger zehra would have already lost her composure by now. the fact that xavier is basically giving her permission ( haha! ) to kill him on the condition that she leaves him alone for as long as they live would have drained the last bit of her patience. they are immortal, for the pit's sake ! this zehra, however, prefers to think of the other demon as a puzzle she's not meant to solve, but endure... with a few jabs at his expense, of course. “ remotely close, huh ? well, that's a vague term, sweetheart. are we talking blood relatives ? old flames ? that guy who smiled at you once at town fair ? i'm genuinely curious, what's your cutoff for collateral damage ? ” brown hues twinkle with mischief, the kind that enjoys poking at boundaries just to watch them snap.

he can’t help but roll his eyes at zehra. she was….. something else. a whole lot of something else. why did their families have to be enemies? his deep brown hues narrow into hers. their families are more linked together than they like to be whether they both like it or not. it’s something he has been trying to tell her for decades now. she never seems to listen to him though as much as he tries to talk it through. perhaps he has always been meant as a grief counselor type of role and it just took him till now to figure it out. however, he was not going to be portum’s emotional support whatever it was that zehra said. “do you listen to anyone else other than yourself?” xavier asks, listening to her words and perhaps his words came out a little bit more sharply. “or are you so self absorbed that you think you’re the only walking soul on this earth?” he asks bluntly, purposely leaving out the living portion. “i am just trying to help you out, i’m trying to help us out because we’re stuck in this endless cycle of constantly having to see each other when i absolutely know that neither of us want to see each other or be stuck in the same room with each other.” he lays his hands flat on the table. the years of scars and callouses showed on his hands as he lets his gaze meet zehra. “i want a truce, okay? i am not trying to be anyone's sympathy carrier, because right now i’m tired of listening to people’s problems, however we have a problem of our own. Our family is going to keep putting us together until we are together. whatever that means. if and whenever that time comes– you have the right to kill me, if you promise to leave me and anyone that is remotely close to me, alone for as long as we live.”

[demonlys]

visions getting more intense is the kind of trouble the demon usually likes to hear about. normally, she'd savor the unraveling of a mortal mind, but right now ? it sounds exhausting and honestly, kind of annoying. zehra likens it to alarms going off just to remind you that yes, everything is still fucked up. it adds to the chaos, sure ⸺ and she does appreciate a good mess... when it doesn't directly affect her. she taps the lollipop thoughtfully against her teeth. “ ah, i suppose that means something is trying really hard to get your attention... ooorr, perhaps, your head's about to explode. not exactly a good sign, unless you're into headaches and bad news. ”

as she steps a bit closer, the sharp click of boots on asphalt seem to punctuate her words. “ but do tell, what revelations did your visions unveil ? ”

and that, well, that's a fair point. ophelia moves to the side of the road and then turns back to the stranger. it's difficult to read her; ophelia can't tell if she had helped out of concern or... entertainment, but she supposes it doesn't really matter. " it's... no. it's not regular. it's making my visions more... intense. "

[demonlys]

she can't help the scoff that rolls off the tip of her tongue, unbothered and unapologetic, the only crack in her otherwise blank expression. nothing could convince zehra that he doesn't take some twisted pleasure in delivering bad news to her. and yet, the only truly irritating part of his heartfelt speech is that she's the one stuck listening to it. frankly, she highly doubts anyone showed up in portum looking to join a community of knitters, but still ⸺ she doesn't interrupt. instead, she twirls the straw in her milkshake and lets xavier finish the rant.

“ redemption, penance, a break from your family drama… whatever it is you're searching for, you won't find it by pretending to be the town's emotional support demon. ” gaze flicks back to him, chin jutting out in defiance. “ i don't roll my eyes when i think i'm right, dearie. i roll them when i know i am. there's a difference. ” she taps a manicured nail against the glass of her milkshake. clink. clink. clink. the sound mildly annoying. “ i keep my obligations to the lower realms separate from my life here. given the mystical upheaval sweeping through town, you'd be wise to do the same. ” zehra is the kind of demon who treats grudges like a precious possession and once she has one, it's hers for life. that's a very long time for someone immortal. regardless, xavier's words hold some truth. their paths will continue to cross for as long as they both remain in portum. “ aww but, baby, sarcasm and insults is our loathe language. ” she takes another loud sip of her milkshake. “ okay, you want peace ? fine. i'm all for a ceasefire if it means i don't have to hear you whine about this again. a truce, for now. ” she lifts her glass in a mock toast, “ just because i'd hate to make you cry in public. ”

“i hate to be the bearer of bad news to you but i actually think that people around here need a community. perhaps that is what they are looking for. maybe it’s why people tend to stay so long in  this perimeters. ” he says with a shrug. xavier has moved his way in and out of portum over the years but eventually found this place his home instead of where he grew up. it was a place that he never wanted to return to again. however he’d keep that land sacred from zehra. She doesn’t need to know where he came from. though he assumes that she was able to pin point not exactly where but how he came to be who he is now. “i’m a grief counselor in the year of 2025. i think that’s saying a lot with what people need most in this town, don’t you think?” he asks with a shrug as he leans back in his seat. he is being cautious with zehra. He doens’t trust her, he never did. however they need to live and work in a world where they don’t want to belong together. he understands. he didn’t want to be like every other member of his family however, most of them were trash. he felt like he was different from trash most days. he had compassion still– surprisingly for the ancient demon. “everyone has their flaws including you– i. We both have flaws.” he adds matter-of-factly. “you roll your eyes when you think you’re right– that’s a flaw. my flaw is that i won’t listen to you unless we can agree on something stable.”  he glances at her with an eyebrow arched up at her. “even if you are with town hall, that doesn’t mean shit. you have a past just as much as the next person, our paths just inconveniently seem to cross paths. If you are really for town hall, don’t you want to call a truce on whatever vengeance our family has that we were both sucked into? you care about this town just as much as the next person, no?” he asks, wondering if he struck a nerve with her though he couldn’t help but roll her eyes at her next comment as he sinks into the red leather booth. “listen as much as you hate to hear it– we’re going to be a part of each other’s lives. i’m just trying to make it better for the both of us while i’m in a somewhat okay mood. let’s drop the sarcasm and the insults and just figure something out. i’m tired and i’m old.”

[demonlys]

✧˖ ° closed starter / zehra's house in the outskirts of town , with aurora ( @avdaciter )

she'd only been away for an hour ⸺ an hour and a half tops, when pipthorn started bombarding her with strings of emojis that were almost completely nonsensical. ( ✉ → sms ) 🆘🔥🏠🐶🎩 ( ✉ → sms )🚨🏚️🔥🍿🤯 ( ✉ → sms )🏡🔥🫣🔥📞🆘🤸‍♂️ ( ✉ → sms )🔥🏠🚨👀🥴🦄📢💅🔥 the recurrent fire and sos symbols might've been alarming, but zehra knew by now that the imp tossed out sos alerts like confetti. it's not until she spots the fire truck parked at the end of the driveway that she starts to worry. the house doesn't appear to be on fire, so the worrying is minimal, but she walks the distance between her car ( it had finally stopped playing 'careless whisper' every time she turned the ignition on ) and the front terrace with hurried steps nonetheless. brown hues settle on pipthorn, smoke still rising from his knitted hat ⸺ or what's left of it ⸺ as he slouches behind a lounge chair, half-hidden and hoping the cushions might shield him from whatever trouble he's managed to summon this time. as her attention begins to drift toward the other person, zehra's focus shifts when biscuit trots up to her, tail wagging and a baseball clenched in the hellhound's teeth. she takes the ball from her, noticing it's still singed, before tossing it away. “ did she have another accident ? ” if one could call breathing hellfire an accident. when she looks up, zehra sees her and a faint “oh” slips past parted lips. “ uhm, hi ? ” after all these years, that's the best she can do ? for a demon, feeling this awkward is borderline humiliating.