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Who's that WhooDoo Daddy?

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The Hades of Nola
Adult Wyrm
Adult Wyrm

Joined: 05 Feb 2015
Posts: 189
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Can Be Found: Otherworld Museum (RDI towncenter)
8802.94 Silver Crowns


PostPosted: Sat Feb 11, 2017 9:43 am    Post subject: Who's that WhooDoo Daddy? Reply with quote

Late in the evening, he came home. He was beginning to smell like the world around him. Of Kate and Troy and Helena. Of the museum and magic and blood of New Orleans and Lizzie that never seemed to wash off. When Robert opened the back door to the kitchen he didn’t have to turn to know the claws and scampering behind him was Troy, eagerly pushing past him to get to his dog bowl. As soon as the dog had reached it he froze and then looked over his black, furry shoulder at Robert.

“Go ahead.” As if on cue the dog started to eat. It sounded like a muted rock tumbler as the kibble worked towards a destiny down the dog’s throat.

This was all surprisingly normal considering what had happened. When a monumental change occurred, there was the sense that everything else should have become warped or different. He was the new Hades of Nola but he still stood in the Museum kitchen at 2 am, making his own coffee. He still walked on two legs and occasionally, still, took a piss. He had not become something otherworldly, something that was the fabric of the universe like God and Mahis and all the other Originals. No, he had tied himself to human magic and no one could really tell him what that would mean.

The kitchen was bathed in the cold, long bulbed phosphorescent light that was installed over the kitchen sink. Three old coffee cups lingered in the belly of the stainless-steel sink and there was the hint, just the hint, of red wine. Robert shrugged out of his black blazer, laying it over the bench-like table before he stepped up to the coffee pot. It was the sort of coffee pot everyone knew. The coffee pot destined for work areas and public facilities. It wasn’t the cheapest model, but it might as well have been. Offices and lower-income homes all over the country had them, which meant everyone was building the same day-to-day memories of the same coffee pot. People only had to say the words “coffee pot” before the image, frighteningly exact, could be conjured.

There was strength in repetition, though he wasn’t sure what that strength meant. Not exactly. He knew that something as simple as a coffee pot could become universal.

Sometimes the air crackled and Troy would look at him hopefully, wagging his tail. It was the same hope every dog had when they thought their owner would be taking them for a walk or opening the door to let them go play. Let me go play, he would say, but Robert only stared at him blankly. It was likely Robert never played as a child. Troy had gotten into the habit of not asking him anymore.

In the Otherworld Museum kitchen, Robert reached into his pocket to pull out his set of keys. The sound of it caused Troy to quit eating and look at him over his shoulder, giving one wet lick of his lips while he stared with anticipation. Robert’s thumb rolled over the metal cut pieces which somehow caused the hair on the back of Troy’s neck to bristle. No noise had been made but he could tell the dog was on the verge of whining at him. He’d just been out. What did he want?

The image of turning the key and stepping into the procession of Hades worshippers and a writhing Roach returned to him sharply. He gripped the keys. Troy stared on, practically a statue.

“You want to go home?”

The dog’s tail wagged.

Robert swallowed, put the key in the air and turned.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep. -Frost
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The Hades of Nola
Adult Wyrm
Adult Wyrm

Joined: 05 Feb 2015
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Can Be Found: Otherworld Museum (RDI towncenter)
8802.94 Silver Crowns


PostPosted: Fri Feb 24, 2017 1:20 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

(( Live rp with ShiftingSands. Thanks for the play))

An hour earlier and Kate would have caught Robbie and Troy making their dramatic exit. Of course it was dramatic, Robbie was dramatic. *** demons. The back door was open, which was kinda strange considering how paranoid the demon could be, but the empty rooms and lack of lazy dog were even stranger. After exhausting every nook and cranny, she stood in the middle of the kitchen and glared at the coffee maker. He couldn't have left a note? Texted to say he was leaving? Drama queen.

With a huff, she pulled out her phone and swiped through several apps to bring up some coordinates on a map. Then, she dialed a number and set it on speaker, still tapping at the screen while it rang. The noise was tiny and too-loud in the empty kitchen, echoing back at her in a way that made her shift her weight back and forth, telling herself it was impatience.

Finally, a voice answered. "Hello?" It sounded guarded.

"Hey, it's me. I need a trace."

"Oh! hey, I never gave you this number."

"I don't have a lot of time to flirt, here, I need that trace. I already sent you the clicks."

There was a lot of muttering, which Kate ignored with a roll of her eyes, foot tapping against the faded linoleum. Then she paced.

"Okay, okay, I got it. But this is going to cost."

"Yeah, I'm good for it, just tell me the *** info."

The person on the other end sniffed. "Well, you don't have to be rude."

Kate's teeth ground loudly enough for the neighbors to hear, silent until the answer she sought was provided.

"Yes, there was a disturbance there. It shifted two occupants through the Nexus to --"

Kate hung up, that was all the info she needed. Next, she texted Robert.

Text: You made a mistake, leaving me behind

The world was jarred. He stumbled and then caught himself. Troy was seamless. He seemed to leap and bound as if having only jumped over a log, knowing what would be beneath and catching himself smoothly. No one ever thought of a mutt as being a smooth. Troy had a way about him, ever since that day with Helena, of being just that.

His arrival felt relatively anti-climatic. There was an old road under his feet, people drinking and neon lights. He turned and looked at what he already knew was Bourbon street. He'd spent time here drunk and homeless with Roach.

The world, memories and his blood swirled. His phone vibrated. Troy barked at him once but he reached in his pants pocket and checked his phone, anyway.

Text to Kate: I tend to make mistakes.

Text to Robert: Don't think that gets you out of the *** house.

Return text: You could come to New Orleans. After you're done being mad. I seem to be in a... situation.

A follow up: I don't think you should come. Maybe next week.

Text: I do what I want. I'll *** come to New Orleans and be mad at you in person. Probably the only way you'll stay alive.

Text cont: Don't listen to any depressing music until I get there, don't need you walking into traffic

He sighed when he looked at her message and spoke, "Of course you will..." but honestly? He didn't really believe it. He should have believed it. He should have expected, or knowing better, than to believe that Kate would only bark and bark. The bite was coming. Perhaps it was all denial.
The hour left him walking, slowly, down the street. At first, it felt as if he shouldn't have been there. That he was a tourist. A strange creature. He half expected Doll to emerge from one of the restaurants, but she never did. Was the city quietly, gently, allowing him to wander down its streets and come to a slow, organic means of being reacquainted.

The first shop, intended for tourists, was the one he walked into. Mommy’s Voodoo Dolls.

There was something unquestionably strange about walls covered in voodoo dolls. The ones up front were cheap and mass produced. As he stepped in further, the priceline of what was offered increased, along with the promises of being authentic and hand crafted. Mommy Voodoo ended up being only in her late fifties with white strands laced into her black, African hair. She was busy flipping through a magazine and humored him with a bored smile.

It was a relief, at this point, to be discarded. Troy's panting was so gentle that the shop owner hadn't asked them to leave. Not yet.

Kate was dropped off in one of the cemeteries because she didn't know the geography of this city at all. At. All. However, one city was much like another and it didn't take her long to end up on Bourbon Street, always drawn by the sound of people having a good time. A few picked pockets later and she was texting the demon.

Text: There are too many depressing looking places here to figure out which one you're in.

Text: At least I know it's not the cemetery this time. Do you need to feed?

Text: I think I found your highschool sex video in the local store. Enlightening.

He looked at the dolls on the wall and then at the buzz of her second message, he bit his lower lip. Troy was sniffing around the floor of the store and he side stepped the dog, as if he could be a jealous girlfriend, to send her the follow up message.

Text: Where are you?

Text: I never went to a high school but if you found that old reel, buy it. You could learn a thing or two.

Glancing up, she did a double take when she saw a shop sporting decorated masks. Sequins, harlequins - all the quins she could imagine with feathers and shinies and hardened lace. With a smile she wandered into that store, touching all the different masks until her phone buzzed again.

Text: Oh, now you want to see me, huh? Was all this just playing hard to get?

The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep. -Frost
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The Hades of Nola
Adult Wyrm
Adult Wyrm

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Can Be Found: Otherworld Museum (RDI towncenter)
8802.94 Silver Crowns


PostPosted: Fri Feb 24, 2017 8:07 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Three dolls. He purchased them from the back, in the discount clearance bin. They looked as if they had been picked over but there was something about them. Robert couldn't have explained it. They looked mauled by children and beautiful all at the same time. Ten dollars later, he was deposited on the street with Troy and a phone that buzzed.

He smiled when he read it, but wished he hadn't. It was like grinned after a cough. He shouldn't have been smiling, but it happened anyway. Involuntary smiles.

Text: Marco.

Troy jogged ahead of him to take a piss on the foot on a bench that was bolted to the sidewalk.

Text: Who the hell is Marco? If you're making out with a dude, you better *** wait for me.

Text: You had a lonely childhood.

Text: Now you're just flirting. And I didn't. I'm in a mask shop.

Text: Better than a bag.

Text: As usual, I have no idea what you're talking about. Hurry up, standing outside. Who came with you?

As promised, she was standing outside the mardi gras shop, which was gearing up for the holiday. Kate sported a dark blue and black mask that somehow matched her outfit in ways that defied all logic and taste. Her phone was in one hand and something else was in the other, fingers obscuring a proper view.

He squinted along the street. There were two mask shops on opposite ends. One was more brightly lit and the masks reminded him of something more commercial. He paused but took a right hand turn, stepping toward the other shop. He would have gone inside the place, except that she had emerged from it, asking where he was.

It was the sort of moment that a second after pressing send, his appearance became apparent. If she was uncertain? Troy barked and then circled her once, barking a secondary time. HEY! YOU! I know you! was what he seemed to say.

This time, the interaction was with words instead of text, "No one. Well," his eyes dropped, "Troy. It was Troy who came with me."

Troy was spotted first as a familiar looking dog - and she never noticed dogs or recognized them like that so it was pretty significant that she did. The barking brought out a chuckle and she stooped to pat his head a few times before holding the object in her hand out to Robert. "Here, put this on." It was a patent, dark blue leather mask that matched hers in color if nothing else.

It wasn't a knife stabbing, so he was grateful. Robert did pause, long enough to eye the mask but not long enough that he asked questions. Troy observed them with the impatience of a dog, his tail wagging listlessly as he watched the strange exchange.

The smooth blue varnish mask came to rest on his face. With one swipe of his hand he untucked the stray dark hairs so that his bangs brushed at the perimeter of the mask. Robert looked the part. He was all mask, midnight and Nola. The saxophone wasn't blaring nearby, but it might as well have.

"And now... do we rob a bank?" His tone is flat.

A satisfied smirk curled her mouth as he did as he was told. "Good demon," she crooned, running a fingertip along the edge of his scruffy jaw. Robert actually managed to look edgy in the mask, as if he might be packing something more than The Cure lyrics and a sad diary entry.

"You're lucky I'm not wearing my lucky thong or I'd say yes. But I'm not really dressed for it. Besides, you're the one that ran away, I just followed. What the hell are we doing here?"

"I don't think lucky thongs are a thing." His hand caught the side of her face. It was short, a punch of cinnamon in the night. He caught her mouth with his, the nose of his mask knocking against her's. Maybe he knew he'd pushed his luck or been presumptuous. Lips didn't overstay their welcome, but broke off as he turned his head to look down the street, "This is... my city now."

Oh, there's always room for awkward moments, "I'm the Hades of Nola." It was a polite way of saying he'd gone hilt deep in Roach and that the voodoo of the city embraced him as its own. There was a lot going on that everyone would need to get used to. He expected Kate to laugh or even blink as if he said nothing. Really, any response was acceptable.

She snorted even as he closed in. "What you know about thongs isn't much. Why don't you leave the thinking to me?" The brief kiss was returned - he still tasted like a Keebler elf and she wanted a goddamn cookie. Brows rose behind the mask but he couldn't see that, of course. However, instead of scoffing, Kate linked her arm with his and set them to moving, didn't care about the direction.

"So...lemme get this straight. You banged Little Bug and now you're...both the whatevers of the city? Is she your Persephone now?"

"Yes. I wasn't thinking clearly." That was not the same as regret, or remorse. It was impossible to tell. The ambiguity of it all was even part of what made it erotic. As much as he would have enjoyed torturing himself thinking about it, there were other elements which grounded him. Elements like Kate, even though most would have said she could have only been a greater catalyst to insanity.

"I'm new to it all. Today is my first day." He said it like he was on the verge of being executed.

"Shocker," her tone and sidelong glance both deadpan. "So you guys are soul married now? Does this mean our Tuesdays are cancelled?"

Robert feels like New Orleans. An old world still dealing with the new. A lot of alcohol and regrettable decisions. Kate was the pilot of the stars, a pinpoint from far off that seemed like a precariously permanent overseer to the situation. He wet his lips and ten shook his head, no. It wasn't that sort of marriage.

His arm entwined with hers and squeezed, "No. You could have Thursdays, if you liked." That was dangerous. She might think he was too keen if he said that.

"Tuesdays and Thursdays or we're just switching to Thursdays?" Of course, Kate stuck to the pertinent details, ignoring everything else until her curiosity was satisfied. While they spoke, they walked and Kate breathed in the flavor if this strange city. Strange things lurked in the underbelly of this place, something she hadn't felt before.

It was crowded enough that they couldn't always easily hear one another. He didn't miss a word, just the sounds of cars and other pedestrians muted what she had to say. They were not the only ones in masks. Another group passed them by and he stiffened as if haunted by their white, grinning mask faces. They moved on, laughing and still smelling like whiskey.

"Both." He breathed, but didn't look at her. Before the moment could show too much of a vulnerable underbelly, he reached into the plastic grocery bag to draw out a battered voodoo doll. He danced it in the air and then extended it closer to her for inspection, "Here. For you. The sign of true affection." The second doll was withdrawn from the bag. They didn't really look like either of them. As far as straw based figures went, they didn't look much like anybody. He clarified, "Mutually assured destruction. The basis for any good relationship."

Tension sang through him and down her arm, where they were attached. Robert was spared a glance before she steered them gently toward a shadowy overhang, courtesy of the awning of a closed storefront. About to speak, she glanced down at the doll, frowning curiously as it was inspected. "Destruction? What kind of destruction? I don't get it." Voodoo wasn't a thing on her home world, nor any world she'd been to yet.

A stream of people passed them by but she tucked them in a recessed doorway, Toby leaning against Robert's other side. "So you're the Hades dude. What does that mean? Unlimited power?"

"It's something that nations have on earth to ensure that one will not do the other wrong. If we both have nuclear weapons," a wiggle of the doll, "we won't use them." He didn't think to explain voodoo dolls. They had been prevalent enough in media that most people hand an idea of it. Robert had missed explaining the bones and had gone on to the connective tissue.

In the doorway he looked down at her. One elbow rose up, pinned at above head height. His eyes looked wet and lively because of the cold blue mask that framed them. All those little pieces of color, scrambled together, churning up a hazel. Unlimited power? He chuckled and shook his head no, "Unlimited on the Voodoo of the city, maybe." Human magic. A bizarre thing that was real and tasted like crawdaddies. The doll was placed back in the bag, which he allowed to slump in a plastic crackle between the toes of their shoes that were still facing one another.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep. -Frost
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The Hades of Nola
Adult Wyrm
Adult Wyrm

Joined: 05 Feb 2015
Posts: 189
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Can Be Found: Otherworld Museum (RDI towncenter)
8802.94 Silver Crowns


PostPosted: Fri Feb 24, 2017 8:32 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

"What is Voodoo? How does Roach fit into this? Why did you bring Toby here? Do you have to live here now that this happened?" Their arms were still tangled together at their sides as she watched his eyes, rimmed in leather. The passing reflections of people and lights reflected back at her was trippy, a wave of dizziness washing over her that seemed to stem from him. Kate clenched her jaw once, maintaining iron control over herself while waiting for an explanation.

"So what can you do, now? What do you have to do, now? Do you expect me to travel all the way here every Tuesday and Thursday?"

"Voodoo is a set of old, human beliefs than gained power over time. It came over from Africa and then mutated into something else. Something that was spiritual and commercial all at once." He didn't point out the straw doll. He didn't think he had to. Kate must have known or was smart enough to get the idea.

"I'm not altogether sure." Robert wrinkled his nose. She couldn't see it, but she might have noticed that his mask shrugged up with the motion of his skin beneath. He felt his arms tangled with her's and the way she steeled herself. He kissed her again, this time on the forehead because he thought, just maybe, that she would bite if he tried to kiss her lips, "You're a pilot of the stars. This journey should be nothing for you." His half smile, it seemed, challenged her.

Nope, she still didn't know how the dolls and old human beliefs that gained power tied together, no bridge to connect them in her mind. But that wasn't a priority in this conversation, she was too busy trying to mentally maneuver around this new development, understand the larger scope of it.

When he leaned forward, it was too quick for her to tip her face up but his lips brushed hair and mask because hers went up to her hairline. However, she also wrinkled her nose at the gesture. It was gentle and tender and not her style. Eyes narrowed behind the mask and he could see that when he pulled back. "So you think that because you're the whatever of this city, I'm just gonna come running?" She started the motion to pull her hands from his.

"Not likely. Not when my status is 'the whatever.' " He had never been the Great Whatever and didn't seem to easily hold the title. Her hand wriggled and he looked down at it, loosening his grip so that she was free. Maybe, just maybe, he had been too affectionate. His head turned away, the muscles of his aw beneath the subtle moving with thought at he looked at the city, "I've been here one, maybe two, hours longer than you. I'm still figuring it out."

He was still wisps of cinnamon and the dour rain of Robert that she had, for some strange reason, a partial taste for. He wasn't looking at her, though. His presence eased and she could have slipped in the shop and out through the bathroom window, leaving him in a stupid observation of the city cobblestones for the better part of an hour before he realized. That wasn't quite her style, though. Kate liked her recipient to know they were being given the bird. He swallowed and looked down at her, "And what about your promise?"

This place was humid and not great for her hair, which was styled to be pin straight. She wanted to get out of the thick, cloying air that she could feel with every breath, slithering down her throat and pooling in her stomach. The taste of this place was pervading her body slowly, a foreign parasite with uncertain intentions. Shoulders lifted in a shrug to try and displace it but the city was tenacious.

Kate huffed, admitting she was jumping the gun a little for answers. Not something she'd say out loud, of course, but she could make amends in her own way. Lips parted to ask another question, this one maybe a little easier to answer, but there was a hitch in her breathing. Unseen, brows furrowed in confusion. She never made promises, that was a code she lived by. Had one slipped through the cracks? "What promise?"

She wriggled in the evening air and he pretended not to notice or, strangely, be drawn to her discomfort. He couldn't have said what it was, exactly, that made it appealing. Maybe it was that everyone else usually had him on edge and here, in this moment, she wriggled on the hook. It wouldn't be longed lived, he knew. Perhaps that was also why he was inclined to enjoy it.

Her lips part. She pauses and it’s long enough to get his attention. To do more than just hear, but see, the breath captured in her throat. It's a second long moment at the most. He wanted to kiss her again more than he wanted to look away, but he looked away from her, his eyes minding the outline of the lamp posts that were in an old European style. It had been the French, hadn't it?

Robert swallowed and pretended that he didn't notice her breathing, "We'd see the stars." It came off spectacularly offhand.

Not for the first time since meeting Robert, and certainly not the last, she felt like they were maybe having two different conversations and even though the words seemed to match each other, the meaning that each was taking away was vastly different.

She stopped fidgeting when she noticed the way his eyes lingered on her mouth. Or was it chin? Something in that direction but she chose to think it was her mouth. Reflexively, Kate licked her lips just as he turned away to look out over the street. Reaching out, she grabbed a fistful of his shirt to get his attention. "Hey..." waiting until he was looking at her again to continue.

"Yeah, we'll do that. Why wouldn't we?"

She had it. Every bit of his attention and more than he wanted to admit. His head turned, there was a tumble of cinnamon in her direction. The beat of his retort for her, "Hey."

She asked why wouldn't they and slowly, like a reassurance, he smiled. His body leaned towards her and he would have said in that moment that he believed her. Believed in her? That the honesty of her lips seemed as poignant as sage. His kiss to catch her mouth was quick. Troy trotted off, barking at some tourist before he looked back at them.

"Then we go to the stars or we get wrapped up in Voodoo. What do you want, princess?" He knew she would have hated the nickname. It didn't suit her at all but that made it, perhaps, all the more endearing.

Robert was a moon eyed poet in the body of a demon and the two didn't mesh in her mind, more often than not. Quite the enigma. An enigma that smelled like goddamn cookies.

He leaned toward her and she cocked her head slightly to one side, expectant of an answer but instead, he kissed her. A grudging smile managed to hook one corner of her mouth while she rolled her eyes, both for the brevity and the sentiment. "Well I got dropped off, my crew took the Wind back to RhyDin, they'll pick me up tomorrow. Unless I can hitch a ride with you and Toby."

Her grip tightened, reeling him in with a handful of shirt, feet shuffling to close the distance between them. "First of all, I'm the *** Queen and don't you forget it. Secondly, I'll only hang out with you if you give me a real *** kiss, not this ma-and-pa ***."

"Tomorrow?" Sooner than he thought. In some ways, a strange dawn to everything else that was happening. Not long enough to really soak in Nola but not so short that there wasn't time to pack a back. His presence eased, he considered the neon lights up until she reeled him in. He sucked in a breath so he wouldn't drown.

He hated when she did that, mostly because it was effective. Insult commentary to the kiss spurred him to bow his head, to fold his hands at her lower back so that she was tugged into him when he kissed her. His lips moved like he wanted to consume her, devouring the petals of her mouth and swallow down her tongue. When he finally broke away, the intent of his glance away had changed entirely. Where was the closest room, anyway? He expected her to cackle at him for his ignited interest but he didn't care. They could spoil away in each other’s arms and then laugh over the cast iron railing of his hotel room to the drunks of New Orlean while they were in between rounds of enjoying one another.

Kate hadn't known what she'd find here, how long it would take her to find Robert in the crowded streets while scavenging from the tourists, or if she'd be running head first into a hot zone. Roach made it seem so much more dangerous because of the types of people she'd been dealing with. Robert bore it with a bland mien, as though he'd grown up with it. Kate never failed to hedge her bets when the situation called for it.

It didn't feel like he hated it - he collapsed against her willingly enough. One arm wound around his neck, pulling him down while she stretched up, the other refused to let go of his shirt. This was so much easier, a language she could speak fluently and never misunderstand. Pale grey eyes were a little glazed when he pulled away, already curling a leg around his hips, not caring who was around. A burst of loud drunken laughter invaded the moment and she chuckled, slowly disentangling herself from him. "So does this title come with a palace?" A thought occurred to her and she perked, excited at the mere prospect. "Does it come with servants?!"

His exhale was a short, warm breeze that pushed over her lips before he kissed her again, briefly. Her raised leg wasn't ignored, it gained the support of his hand which moved, splaying out along the underside of her thigh. She had him cupped in between both hands just until she unwound herself from him. Oh ***.

He looked at her blankly, turning his eyes away and the swore in Latin at Troy who had done absolutely nothing wrong.
"If it does I don't think it's the sort of palace you have in mind," an arm brush towards the streets, "if this is my kingdom, what will the palace be? Let's find out." His elbow offered to her, though he put his lips to her ear for a whisper, "I'm glad you're here." Don't make him say it again.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep. -Frost
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The Hades of Nola
Adult Wyrm
Adult Wyrm

Joined: 05 Feb 2015
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Can Be Found: Otherworld Museum (RDI towncenter)
8802.94 Silver Crowns


PostPosted: Sat Feb 25, 2017 2:07 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Even if she didn't speak Latin, the tone of the curse was unmistakable. One manicured brow arched under the mask, wondering what inspired it but didn't ask. Instead, she glanced to Toby, who seemed to be waiting for them (somewhat impatiently, tail wagging at a fast pace). "Maybe he knows where your castle is. It better have lots of servants so I can get room service. I'll even take obedient zombies as long as their bits don't fall in my drink." She made a face as he offered his arm, hooking her elbow through his.

Weight shifted forward but there was a hesitation in her step. Was that a confession of nerves, wanting moral support while he got this Hades junk figured out? Was it more personal? Knowing Robert, more personal. After a silent sigh, she smiled warmly and turned her chin to aim it up at him. "I know." Then she tugged him along in the direction of Toby.

Troy barked and then Robert looked down at her. She smiled and it caused, against his better judgement, a smile to appear on his lips. The wire curls of his dark hair were caught up in the air as they took a step.

"You might have to call me Sir, going forward." The catch at the corner of his lips was the only indication of humor. They stepped. One. Two. Three. The world started to break into pieces. Troy barked.

Robert looked ahead, focusing on the cobblestones that had begun to sway. Suddenly they turned, poured and he thought that he might stumble and fall on his right side with her except that the world had reassembled. The stone pathway to an old New Orleans mansion had been rebuild, their location reassembled. Black men with bones drawn over their ebony skin smile brightly and bowed as his appearance.

"Welcome home, Sire."

In a 1950's pinstripe suit, the African with bone through is nose bowed. Robert wondered if he was real. His hazel eyes were swimming, dropping down to Kate.

The smile turned sickly sweet, widening beneath the domino mask she wore. A drunk woman bumped into Kate's side so she took a wallet from the purse hanging haphazardly from one arm before murmuring an empty apology. "The only way I'm going to say 'sir' to you is if it's a safe word."

Wormholes, slip streams, crossing dimensions; these were things that Kate had done before with ease, as long as she knew what was coming up. Those things were more common in space and she didn't expect them to happen randomly on the face of a planet. Her free hand clutched at Robert's arm, hoping the buckling ground didn't ruin her heels. However, it was over just as quickly as it had started and only now did she notice the giant house in front of them.

Wide eyes take in the house, focusing sharply on the dark man that addressed Robert as Sire. Welp, that was definitely going to go to the demon's head, Kate would have to redouble her efforts to keep him humble. On the other hand... "That answers the questions about servants!" she chirped with a grin before addressing the man in the suit. "I'll have a coffee, lots of sugar and enough cream to kill a small horse. He will, too. Also, make sure the dog is comfortable and gets all the Dog Stuff he needs."

"Oh, but of course, Madame," When the man smiled his teeth were impossible white against the darkness of his skin. Robert looked at him as if thinking his gaze could pierce any insincerity there. They stepped then, in tandem, closer to the home.

The man who greeted them spoke two two others and word of their arrivals spread like wildfire. It seemed that upon approaching the old mansion that the lights blossomed, slightly more bright, knowing that they were on their final approach.

"This is the lighter side of voodoo," he warned her, ot thinking she would hear it, anyway.

Madame. Kate mouthed the word to herself, trying it on and seeing how it fit her over inflated ego. Yeah, it would do, until she could get them to call her Empress. The snappy response did much to soothe any residual discomfiture over the moniker. People scurried, lights brightened and she had a certain amount of satisfaction for that. "Also, make sure the bed is turned down." That was a thing people said, right? Seemed like it could be because the man nodded to her, his smile growing even wider (if possible) before gesturing for more to do her bidding.

It was *** fantastic.

"Lighter side, huh? I'll take it," waving her hand dismissively to any concerns her tried to express. "So there's strings, so what? You're in for a penny, in for a pound now. Might as well enjoy the perks, right?" Her elbow nudged him lightly in the side as they moved. "So...why did you bring Toby? And how did you get here from RhyDin?"

Her affectation of wealth and privilege amused him and that showed in the little give at the corners of his mouth. Even during his years on Earth Robert had never been a man of high standing. If anything, he had been respected most as doing work in dark places. The most prestige he had ever had was as a professor in an era where professors could beat students openly and study was a career, not a babysitting spoiled man-children.

"I suppose so," his hand crawled over the back of hers and then drifted away. He smiled with some awkwardness at the stewards, though their presence was of no surprise to him. In these moments he felt a wave of Imposter Syndrome couple and kiss his own sense of entitlement. "His name is Troy." Robert corrected, wetting his lower lip.

They were lead to a 1930's derelict diner area inside the mansion whose double doors opened to a janitor closet. It was low lit and believable, but only the staged entrance that preceded the guts of a posh, speakeasy. A woman with a tight black bob was singing on a low stage. She was a professional, somehow not managing to squint in the glare of the spotlight on her.

The steward tucked them into a corner booth shaped like a C with menus. Burgundy leather was pinned into place with near-garish golden pins. It would have been easy to believe that they were guests like any other except he caught the pointed glances of some of the men. At times their cheekbones jutted like the bones of a skeleton. Robert scratched at the side of is face, the upper part of the blade of hi hand bumping his mask. He adjusted it.

"Troy. Right. I'll learn all their names," speaking absently to Robert as they were led toward an entrance. She probably wouldn't remember all their names and call all the men Troy but what did it matter? This wasn't her palace, she didn't have to worry about all that.

Speaking of palaces, she was disappointed when they first walked into a derelict diner. Her nose wrinkled and she gave the place a very dubious once over as they moved through it. "Is this seriously what you get for putting the glass slipper on Roach's vag?" It was a let down, not gonna lie. However, once they passed through the dingy cleaning closet doors, Kate's face lit up in delight. Music, drinks, people in swanky clothing and she wasn't going to have to pay for anything. "Why didn't you tell me this was a fancy dress place? I would have brought a dress." Robert's shoulder got a shove as they were directed to their booth.

As soon as she sat, Kate was craning her neck to look at all the people, get the lay of the land, and still sway in time to the music. If people were staring Robert down, she didn't notice, just waved her hand to the nearest waiter. "Bubbly and lots of it. Not too dry." Robert didn't get a choice, they were celebrating.

There was a visible cringe at her description of Roach and the glass slipper. His eyebrows knit, he was forced into a brief recollection of the moment. Her bent over the altar. People singing songs from Africa that seemed familiar but from a heavier place. He was struck by that harsh sensation of having wanted her, wanting to be with her in a way that was genuine and false all at once.

Since then, the nagging desire for flesh had waned a great deal. The audience in his mind was briefly satd. Yet he still found himself suppressing the enjoyment he felt at Kate's company. It was as if he thought that smiling might disintegrate her presence.

She was talking about a dress and his mind pulled to the moment, imagining her dressed as if it was the roaring 20's. She could have pulled it off, if only because she seemed so keen on playing dress-up. Robert swallowed, settling in the booth. A waitress popping gum and with a hair band came by and winked, speaking softly so as not to interrupt the singer, "Bubbly you say? Well, anything for Hades and Persephone." Her red lips turned in a large, encouraging smile. She made an obvious wink, a little bend of her knees and disappeared to fulfill the order.

It happened before he could even correct her. Once she left, it seemed like too much trouble to try. He brought one arm around Kate, tugging her into his side in a rare moment where he humored her with a smile. Where he looked like maybe, just maybe, he was having fun behind the mask, "What are we celebrating?"

Kate might want a detailed description of what went down with Roach but it was pretty far from her mind in this moment. The Star Pilot was in her element, smiling and winking, waving at people she didn't know and probably never would but none of that mattered. The band wound that song down, melding into the next song that had a lively beat. She was almost tempted to dance but wanted her bubbly first.

Pulled back to Robert's side by the weight of his arm, she didn't struggle and instead, grinned at him from beneath her mask. "What do you mean, what are we celebrating? All this is yours. And, because you're kinda sweet on me, also mine." That was followed by a salacious wink and tinkling laughter. "I'm Persephone, tonight, and you're Hades and this is our kingdom. Why wouldn't we celebrate? What do you want to do first?"

The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep. -Frost
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The Hades of Nola
Adult Wyrm
Adult Wyrm

Joined: 05 Feb 2015
Posts: 189
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Can Be Found: Otherworld Museum (RDI towncenter)
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PostPosted: Sat Feb 25, 2017 2:33 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

He wanted to tell her that he couldn't remember the last time he had celebrated something. The idea of it was far off, drifting somewhere at a distance from him as he stared at the contours of her face.

I'm Persephone tonight. His smile was sad and partial, but she had somehow convinced him that he should play along. She preened and she laughed and she played it all up as if it very well was hers. She could have convinced him if it wasn't for the fact that he felt that small, heart string tug across the universe like a piano string being wound up. Not in that moment, brief as it was.
"I suppose you're right." Why wouldn't they celebrate? He moved to kiss her, a whispered secret at the corner of her lips, and looked back to the stage, "I want to see the bayou."

Her humor dimmed in the face of that rueful smile. Brows knit beneath the mask and suddenly, it felt suffocating and she wanted to tear it off but restrained herself. Wouldn't do to shatter the illusion just yet in a moment of pique.

"What?" she asked quietly. "What is it? Why do you always look sad, even when this oyster's pearl is laid out before you?" gesturing to the room at large.

"I don't know what it means or will come to mean. But it seems as though... the world is changing." The arm around her gave another squeeze. Robert perhaps had just not drank enough to abandon his tendency towards the dour. Maybe some bubbly was what the demon of Nola needed to be uplifted.

As if on cue, red lips and the wink came buy. Two impossibly tall flutes were set before them. Suddenly it all felt so Gatsby. Garish and beautiful because it was garish. Kate's hand swept the room, indicating the pearl that had been cracked out of the oyster.
"I rather like watching you enjoy it, though." Strange as it might be, the raw cut of her radiance, the ease with which was could be a hedonist, left him as her audience.

"Listen up, Robabooey. Change is the only thing that lasts. This world, the next world, all the worlds in the Verse are always changing. People that stay on rocks seem to think they're part of the rock, that their lives are supposed to be one or two things and when that changes, they don't know what to do with themselves. The Traveler..." She trailed off when the waitress came back, grinning brilliantly for the woman and blowing her a little kiss before pulling her glass closer.

Pale eyes turned back upon Robert, her expression more solemn. "If you can't enjoy the good moments when they're right in front of you, what are you living for?"

People that stay on rocks seem to think they're part of the rock. Robert seemed to think he was part of the museum, an exhibit that the previous curator kept overlooking. Part of burned down bars and the pieces of the past that never really had resolution. She mentioned the Traveler and his head tilted to the side, one eyebrow lifting up fractionally. He had wanted to know the rest of her sentence but by the time he looked at the bubbly, Kate was saying something else.

He wanted to tell her that he was enjoying the moment, but he knew that she would scoff at him. She wanted him howling and grinning with a dangerously broad smile, tearing her away from the table with a pull of his hand to go dancing. The arm that wasn't around her reached over, lifting up the glass of bubbly and offering to toast it with her's, "I haven't figured that part out. I didn't think I'd survive getting my revenge and now that I have... I was just trying to help out Lizzie. Make a few friends, play cards."

Robert was a very stationary kinda guy. They were complete opposites in every way and, frankly, it was an enigma that they even got along at all. But they did and so here they were, out on the town Hades style. There wasn't anything that Kate wanted from Robert that he didn't want to willingly give, it wasn't about that. She just wondered why every cloud that passed him by had a black, leaden lining to it.

With a half smile, Kate lifted her glass to toast against his, downing at least half of it in a few gulps. Perfect, just the way she'd wanted it. Leaning into him, she settled into the booth. "What revenge? I need you to fill in a few more deets."

"It was a long time ago," The arm around her was at ease, his fingertips drawing absently in her shoulder as he spoke. Now and then his hand would pause in punctuation of something he said, "I used to work at a hospital in Seattle, Washington, clearing out surgery rooms post-op. When I wasn't working I'd go to a bar where me and my friends would play cards."

His hazel eyes went to his drink, watching the bubbles in it rise like little stars bursting at the surface, "Then one day we came to be noticed by the Nephilim and they did what they do best-- kill demons. I got away because I ran, I'm uniquely suited to surviving that way. Illusionary demons are like that. We can hide in plain sight. Anyway, I did some traveling. It's how I met Roach. I decided being an alcoholic on the streets on New Orleans was one way to cope."

He turned his head, kissing the bridge of her mask and then smiling, "Then I decided killing all ten of the Nephilim was another. It took me years and the last one I needed to find was here, in Rhy'Din. I took the museum job as a cover. And those... are all the deets, as they say."

Kate vaguely remembered him saying something about a hospital (down in the morgue?) as a past job, before moving on to the museum. Both sounded pretty gnarly to her but Kate was a special kind of snowflake. She thought a steady job was gross. "A Nef-a-what? Heffalump? I think I heard o' those once." Not really but she was engrossed in this sordid tale of revenge.

When he confessed that he'd been hunting down the last one, Kate's face lit up. She straightened and turned to face him, beaming a proud smile. "That's what I'm talking about!" smacking the back of her hand against his shoulder for emphasis. "Now you're talking like a demon! A bad ass, don't take no *** prisoners, kill everyone you love while you watch demon." With a happy sigh, she downed the rest of her champagne. "I always knew you had it in you, Robbie. Now, is this last guy dead yet?"

"You... weren't hugged enough as a child." Following that statement, he downed the last of his glass and set it down. No sooner had the circular bottom of the glass landed did their waitress appear. It was like she smiled and breathed for the opportunity to give them a refill. She poured more into his glass and then gave a cheeky smile at Kate, topping her off before vanishing.

Congratulations were in order, apparently. This did nothing to make her seem less bizarre to him. He nearly couldn't reply. He was caught watching her celebrate and eventually cracked like glass that couldn't handle the temperature change, "Yes, last year with Cris we... ended the problem." He wasn't sure if she knew of Cris. The man had become better known after his death.

She cracked up, head tipping back, lips spread wide in a grin, exposing the gracefully slender column of her throat. "You're probably right, boo. Wanna make up for it?" Since he couldn't see her eyebrows, she gave him a salacious wink before perking to see their waitress. "Always ready and willing, huh? I like you," pointing and grinning at the woman before she disappeared again.

Having met Cris once before and remembering his very solemn mien hanging around the IFL fights, she nodded but also let her shoulders droop, just a little. "Too bad, I kinda wanted to participate. But if you need help killing anyone else, you let me know, okay?" This time, her glass of champagne was gulped down until it was empty, wrinkling her nose for the carbonation. "Now, what in the name of the Traveler is a bayou and why do you want to see it?"

"Afraid I just run the Museum, now. Oh," there was no inflection to his voice, but he added to the situation a detail that the adrenalin junkie had not fully dissected, "and the Hades of New Orleans." And whatever it was that would mean. It had the sort of ominous title that promised dark clouds and ash.

The music spiked. The woman's voice soared over the room with enough power that it turned his head her way. It was Billie Holiday's "Strange Fruit." Just the sort of song Kate would champion. Black bodies swing...
She asked about the bayou. It hooked his ear, turning his head back to her, "It's one of the waterfronts here. The ocean, the swamps... the crocodiles. I don't know-- It just feels right."

"That's okay," teasingly patting his upper arm. "We can work on it." The waitress appeared again, as bubbly as the drink she was pouring. "Honey, why don't you just leave that bottle right here?" poking the table top with a manicured nail as she purred at the waitress. "Mama will take care of it." A wink and then Kate's attention was back on Robert.

"It's a swamp?" she asked indignantly, a hand automatically going to her hair. Swamps meant humidity, which meant her hair would frizz. "Why do you want to look at a swamp? Also, what the hell is a crocodile? Why do they feel right? Do you wear them or something?"

Robert tipped his head back, looking through the slots of his mask to watch Kate and the waitress interact. He could tell, if only for a moment, that it made the other woman uncomfortable. As if being dismissed from service would be a strike on her record. But it's what the customer wants, right? That was when she regained herself, smiling broadly and giving her full-body laugh. She said, "Of course!" and then moved into the milling tables of the strange mansion club of the house.

When Kate asked him about looking at the swamp he shrugged, realizing that there was no good answer to leave a perfectly beautiful party for croaking frogs in heavy swamp-air. The home they were was starting to get more of his attention. The guests reeked of voodoo the longer he was around them. He was fairly certain one of them... a few of them had to be...

"Look at you, Robert." A mulatto woman in her waitress uniform was standing in front of their table. Robert didn't have to move his gaze to see her.

He was already saying her name, flatly, "Doll."

The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep. -Frost
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Young Wyrm
Young Wyrm

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PostPosted: Mon Mar 13, 2017 6:21 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Kate didn’t notice any discomfort from the waitress, thought she was making the girl’s life easier by not having to pop round every time their glasses were empty. Also, Kate grabbed the bottle by the neck and drank from it directly instead of bothering with her glass once more. Keepin’ it classy!! As always.

Her attention was on Robert, the way he tipped his head back as if answering her question made him weary. Too weary to speak – he only shrugged. Maybe he was gathering his thoughts but he never got a chance to speak them. A strange woman interrupted them and didn’t address Kate but that didn’t stop the Star Pilot from studying her with slightly narrowed eyes. Before taking another swig from the bottle. “Doll? That’s your name? Hi, I’m with him,” jutting her thumb in Robert’s direction. She’d introduce herself as Persephone but maybe these people had a way of knowing or testing? Not something she was willing to risk. Easier to play nameless (harmless) companion.

Kate had a way of being "classy." The term, it seemed, was relative. His slouch and the darkness of the lounge-bar gave him the sensation that he was back at the planetarium with her and that she might point out the stars to him, telling him which planet was full of a bunch of pricks and where the best place was to really have a party, the sort that went down in the history books.

"Yeah? Where's little Roachie? Gettin' her high on in some alley?" Doll turned her head as if she expected Roach to be behind her, or nearby enough to hiss, spit, or cackle at what she said. Instead, there was nothing and then she looked back at Robert, "The mask suits you."

Under his mask, an unseen brow arched upward at Kate's thumb jerk. Better seen was the partial smile. It disappeared when he sat up, elbows on the table and his attention screwing into Doll, "Busy. What do you want, Doll?"

Doll gave a black lipstick smile, stepping closer so that both of her hands were on the table, "Word on the street is that Hades is buying cheap little tourist dolls as he inspects the streets. Daddy-O, you know I can hook you up with something better than that and all you've have to do was ask."

Subtle, like bobby pins criss-crossed over a hair tie, were pins threaded in Doll's wrist. Her thick lips curved in a long, coercing smile, "So what do you say, how about I show you around my shop a little? You and--"

Before any titles could be engineered, Robert injected, "Kate."

Kate was quiet for the duration of the conversation, listening keenly while noting that this person knew Roach. Good thing Kate didn’t try to keep up the facade of being Persephone! For once, instinct restrained her mouth – put this one on the calendar, folks. While listening, grey eyes roved over Doll, curious about her and how she knew Robert and Roach. The threaded pins on her wrist piqued Kate’s interest and right as Robert introduced her by name, Kate reached across and pulled a pin out, holding it up between herself and Doll.

“Kate. Hey. What’s this for? Does it hurt?”

Robert didn't miss a beat. His responses were a slow roll off the tongue, "I didn't forget who you were."

Kate reached out and pulled a pin, which startled Doll. No one had ever done that to her before so it was the unexpected tug out of her wrist's vein that disarmed her. She must not have wanted to show that Kate had done as much. Her smile recovered and then she put on a layer of charm which was forced, though the atmosphere of warning beneath it rang true, "Oh, yes honey. Find yourself a creole that knows how to use a pin and it can hurt more than being hit by a train."

Robert's head rolled to look at Kate. She might not have captured his full expression because of the mask but the weight of his voice was undeniably him, "To the house of Doll, to the swamp or to discover this... " the word he used didn't sound right, but it was the only one available, "mansion I live in."

Her smile was sweeter than a beignet, especially because she caught the slight widening of Doll's eyes, the moment of held breath and hesitation. "I'll keep that in mind, thanks for the advice." Her hand closed around the pin, obviously intent on keeping it in her possession.

Turning her face to Robert, a finger tapped her lip while she pretended to contemplate the choices. "I'm not really sure I like her, so no partying there. I'm really not dressed for the swamp, not in these shoes. But," she purred, leaning closer with a wicked smile, "we can do it another day and I'll dress for the occasion. With the caveat that you clean me up afterwards." A pat to his knee and she straightened. "That leaves the mansion. Will Troy be there? Does it have servants, too? I want more champagne when we get there and really fancy glasses. Pinkies out and everything. Can we also have sex on a pile of money? It's kinda on my bucket list."

She had Robert staring at her with the seriousness of a funeral. He was a statue, frozen as she tapped her lip and then strung along Doll.

Doll was not amused. She frowned, but it was because she didn't think Robert would really see it. Robert's head and attention seemed focused on Kate. That meant she could frown and piss and moan all she wanted without the boss knowing. This expression became the slow evolution of a glower. Fine. Kate would win this one. Just this one. She smiled in a really lighthearted way, as if to suggest that the idea had been to her liking all along and cooed, "That seems marvelous. You should know your home front."

Robert was looking at Kate. Doll was more of a feeling, somewhere off to the side. Dress for the occasion. Clean me up afterwards. His lips slowly parted, but nothing was said. He wanted to kiss her. Like the tug of the moon and all the damn stars. She patted his knee, which anchored him back to Earth. What was she saying?

"Troy has to be nearby," the dog had been strangely absent since their arrival. Was he fat on steak or were there bitches in heat he'd sniffed out? Robert grinned when she said 'when' they get there and moved in, kissing the shell of her ear and whispering, "This mansion with the bar in it? This is it. Part of it. We're here." Most homes didn't come with a Speak-Easy in the back. Most homes didn't belong to the Hades of Nola.

More champagne. He twirled a finger in the air. Yes. More. The waitress with red lips was ecstatic. More to do for Hades. Who didn't want that?

"So that's it?" Doll was getting the feeling that she was being dismissed.

It just wasn't Doll's night. That's what happened when an intergalactic Diva showed up.

Kate could feel the pull of Robert before he leaned his mouth to her ear. Lips brushing against it made her shiver, uncertain of whether she wanted it to stop or keep going. She tried to focus on listening to what he was saying rather than the sensation. "Oh yeah? Well good, don't have to walk too far. In that case, get two or three more bottles, we'll take them to go."

Twisting to start her slide out of the U shaped booth, Kate looked up at Doll and laughed as if it was a grand joke to which they were all privy. "Oh man, I totally forgot you were there because you're unimportant." She swatted the air, silly her. "No, but really, since you're still here and all, how about you give us the grand tour? As you said, I should really know the home front." As condescending as she could be, Kate pushed to her feet before turning and holding a hand out to Robert. Twist of the knife.

It was more humiliating than that. Doll smiled in a full lipped, beautiful yet painful way, "Oh, I don't know the whole mansion. I've only be allowed in the club." Only one woman could know that smile. Doll had smiled but her smile was a promise to *** Kate over. Trip one time, bitch, and see what pins don't find you. Bless your heart, though. Her lashes fluttered and she tried to excuse herself from them.

Robert was too busy tracking Kate's motions with his eyes. He thought he saw her skin ripple, but then she was shifting, moving. The pilot didn't like to be anywhere for a long time. Robert took Kate's hand just at the moment that Doll abdicated having anything to do with the tour. Tugged to his feet, he looped one arm over the bridge of Kate's shoulders as he looked at her, "Oh, then you must join us. We're learning the mansion as well."

At this point, Troy barked. It steered their attention to him and a black man with bones painted over his ebony skin. He tugged off his top hat and bowed as he spoke, "Word be that Hades want to know the way about his kingdom."

Undaunted, Kate's smirk was satisfied. Now she knew Doll's buttons, so easily pushed. The threat was read and acknowledged but Kate took it as a challenge. Doll didn't know who she was dealing with; the Star Pilot would enjoy educating her.

Playing up the part, Kate nestled herself against Robert's side, hugging her body against his, one arm wrapped around his waist far enough to tuck her fingers in the far pocket. A coquettish bat of her lashes was aimed at Doll. "Yes, please join us. Sounds like we'll all learn something." Turning to glance at the bone man, her gaze was snagged by images superimposed over his dark skin. "Really nice work," she murmured.

There was a moment in her glory and gloating that she might have felt a delicate pinch at her earlobe and then along her neck. The wet pinching evolved, along her throat, into a series of kisses that left her with the scent of a bakery she kept finding she wanted to case. Robert's affection eased.

The bone man laughed, the marks on his skin seeming more significant than just make up. Doll looked like she wanted to protest, to flip Kate off, but Kate was damn well stitched up to Robert's side. They couldn't have been any closer unless her was just *** her right then and there. That left Doll smiling in a forced, painful way. The Queen of the Voodoo Dolls meant to have war with the other, self-appointed queen. Bring it on bitch, the arch of her brow seemed to say.

"From the club house, sir," the man spoke with an accent which hinted at coming from Africa but was not entirely authentic. He bowed and motioned, walking them back through the faux doors of the janitor closet and into a large, long stretching hall.

"This be the thoroughfare, my liege."
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