head demoness in charge.

[freyjakaradottir]

"Welcome to Elsewhere. Now fuck off."

[headdemoness]

“Oh, Very charming. I see now why this bookshop is so popular.”

[davey-brunn]

"They reek, don’t they?"

[headdemoness]

“And you aren't a man who exercises tact very often, are you? Or perhaps you simple enjoy stating the obvious.”

[beislazaro]

     The night was just beginning, but the air all around him tried to tell him the city was winding down early. After the masquerade, he supposed, people weren’t as up for having a good time, but that wasn’t any of his concern. Lazaro was bored, and he wanted to do something. His fingers itched, and he smirked, “Idle hands are the devil’s plaything,” he said to himself, laughing a bit, “They’re definitely the devil’s fucking something.”

     Smoke curled around his face as he exhaled, lighting himself a new cigarette as he saw the figure approach, its identity shrouded in the darkness of the club. “What? Are you lost or something?” His tone was not kind, nor was the expression on his face.

[headdemoness]

          No need for a grand entrance to herald her presence, Margaux sauntered forth from the shadows with the gait of one of who was exactly where she should be, never mind that this was not her district. The click of her heels was soft against the cobblestones as she made her way to the smoke curling from a cigarette not far in the distance. It's a vice she's never entertained herself, but if one ever needed to find Lazaro, one only had to follow the smoke.

          “Good evening to you, too, Lazaro.” The murmur is light and vaguely sweet, polite in disposition though utterly false.

          She slips gloved hands into the pockets of her coat, coming to a stop by the other demon. Her eyes are sharp, though the smile adorning her lips is demure. A study in contradictions. “I thought I'd stop by to buy a drink or two at that club.” A tilt of her head gestures towards the establishment she'd just exited. Her gaze drags leisurely back across to Lazaro. “It seems that it's quite popular amongst your minions.”

[headdemoness]

The tilt of the demoness' head is almost reptilian, gaze narrowed in silent calculation. “Let's put it this way — ”

She pauses, perfectly manicured brows arching. “You can either help me find the worthless soul I'm looking for or you can suffer the punishment in their place.” She didn't gain infamy for being the most ruthless of the head demons by exercizing patience. “I can rip your spine out through our teeth if that's what it takes to gain your cooperation.”

[sydney-lasaite-deactivated20150]

The demoness smiled at her, and Lasaite somehow managed to return the small smile despite the emptiness growing in the pit of her stomach. She had to be careful—just the way the woman carried herself screamed that she was not one to be messed with. Not that any demons were beings to be messed with, but this one was more intimidating than most.

Still, she found her voice. ”You’re very kind to say so, ma’am. I know what you mean, about how the atmosphere of parties has changed. I wish I’d been alive to see the more… refined dances the humans had.” She cleared her throat, searching for a small-talk topic that she could talk about without sounding like an idiot. “If I may ask, ma’am, are you… ever nostalgic, for the past?”

[headdemoness]

“Well, it wasn't just the humans.” Margaux pauses, sharing in a private joke that she doesn't speak aloud. “As always, demons are the ones who throw all the best parties. Perhaps some day you'll be lucky enough to attend one.” The look that crosses her face is conspiratorial, almost devious. The little vampire seems, still, somewhat nervous. And that's to be expected. Even in a good mood, Margaux so rarely shows any hint of ordinary pleasantness that even her genuine smiles should be considered with some suspicion.

The question is too forward, particularly given that they're mere acquaintances. But as Margaux reigns herself in, silent, her tongue presses against her teeth, words forming at her lips that she hasn't first processed in her mind whether or not she wants to speak them. Nostalgia is a useless preoccupation. And for someone who's lived so long, a pointless one, too. To pinpoint a specific moment in time and let herself linger long enough to miss it would be simple... idiocy. 

“Of course I do,” she mutters, not unkindly but forced a little harshly from her lips. It's unbidden, and unexpected, and even then she can't seem to stop. “More than I should. If a demon treads too far back in their past, they'll only find regret.”

Already, she's spoken far too much. Her lips clamp down, pressed tight in a thin line against the inexplicable urge to keep going, keep spilling words she has not meant to speak aloud. Ever.

[melvillesdoom]

Lallie observed the demoness for a second, lips lightly parted, then nodded. “Thank you. I give people warnings and I’m already called names. ‘Sanctimonious bitch’ was always one very close to my heart. Oh, I’m actually here on ‘duty’, as I’m sure some of these fucking idiots will, by the end of the night, decide to fight each other or I don’t even know. They can always find something.”

[headdemoness]

“You know they only call us that because they're petty. And small. And weak.” Margaux was no stranger to the cherished nickname of bitch, after all. Hers usually came with some variation of ‘stone-cold’ and ‘heartless’, which were both the honest truth. “I suppose there are worse ways to spend your night on duty. Half the city's flocked here. Someone's bound to spill a little blood sooner rather than later.”

[frivolouswhim-deactivated202501]

[naivetyintrust-deactivated20200]

   Imagine his surprise, or lack thereof, when the high and mighty Queen of Prague 10 decides to grace him with her presence. Had a little birdy fibbed and told her what mischief he’d done with her recent batch of spies? Turning away from the girl he’d been trying to move past, Alaric takes a sip of his martini before smirking over the edge of the glass. The thought to greet her hadn’t crossed his mind.

   ”Margaux, I thought affairs like this were beneath you?”

   But it’s a game, he tells himself, even as he takes her hand to press a fleeting kiss upon her knuckles. Releasing delicate fingers, he glances up from her beneath his guise of a devil’s face. This one at least is of cloth and plaster. “Come to spank me for being a bad boy? Or did you just miss me that much?” Alaric says with a charming grin. Words fester at the back of his throat and before he can contain them, they seem to slip free unbidden.

   ”You wouldn’t be the first woman upset with me this evening.”

   Oh.

   He masks his surprise smoothly with a chuckle and sips at his drink as if to burn the idle syllables swelling up. Finishing one drink and setting it aside on a passing waiter’s tray, the demon sums it up as a mere accident. It was only a slip of the tongue. Alaric doubts it will happen again as he gestures towards the bar.

   ”Shall we?”

[headdemoness]

   “Oh, they are. But I couldn't let you lot have all the fun now, could I?”

   Was she really that predictable? She might detest that more if she didn't consider consistency of greater importance. Naturally her fellow head demons were quite well informed about her disregard for... events like this. Or rather, people like this. Lesser immortals. The rare humans mingled amongst the rest. They were the so-called bane of her work and the unfortunate source of the only satisfaction this life had to offer anymore.

   Ever the charmer, she watches with a detached sort of amusement as he takes her hand and brushes a kiss to the backs of her fingers. Typically, she has little time for the charisma of fellow demons; they're all too alike in the ways they lie and cheat. Alaric has a natural ease about it that lessens the grating of her nerves. She exhales with a light escape of laughter. “If that were the case we'd be here for an eternity.” The remark slips free from her tongue, though she'd been intending to say something more along the lines of him flattering himself. The astonishment passes too quickly for it to register on her face.

   “Why am I not surprised? You do have quite the talent for aggravating us.”

   And Margaux reaches for another as Alaric's setting his emptied glass down on a passing silver tray. The liquor is sweet and smooth, of quality just high enough to please her refined taste.

   “Hm.” She hums, considering the offer for a brief moment. “I can think of at least half a dozen people who'd be worse company.” That's about as much an admission of favor than will ever pass her lips. The head demoness takes the lead, sweeping forth into the crowd and towards the bar. It's crowded as they make their way over, but empties swiftly as the signatures of two head demons registers. Margaux takes a dainty seat at one of the stools, crossing one leg over the other as she fixes Alaric with a smirk.

   “Isn't this the bar of those witches you so love to torment? I would've thought they'd have expressly banned you from stepping foot into this party –- masked or not.”

[alexanderlamkin-deactivated2026]

He raised his eyes, bright and sharp as they cut through the shadows, up towards the source of the voice, decidedly straightening his posture at the sight of the demoness before him; not his own to report to, but an important figure nonetheless.

"Waiting outside has its advantages, I suppose. It would be easier to just pick them off in the crowds, ..but it gets rather difficult to seal contracts in the moment when they can’t hear you over everyone else’s din." He paused for a short, final drag on his cigarette, before discarding it at his feet. "Popular as this may be for my kind, what brings you here?”

[headdemoness]

His method was sound, and efficient. More so than a large number of immortals she'd encountered, though certainly not from her own district. And since the opportunity had arose, Margaux didn't see what point there was in squandering insight into the inner workings of another district.

“Is that so? Well, I wish you happy hunting," she murmured, polite smile curving at her mouth. “Your head of district is quite fortunate to have such a dedicated employee."

Margaux's gaze followed the path of the falling cigarette, the glowing red ember painting a streak through the dark before it was extinguished underfoot. She had no reason to offer the vampire an honest reply, but a pleasant irony found its way into her voice. “...Would you believe me if I said I was out enjoying a pleasant walk?”

[melvillesdoom]

"Precisely," she said. "Well, I actually am quite friendly and approachable when outside people aren’t hunting in Five. Or asking me stupid questions. Or walking slowly in front of me on the sidewalk.”

[headdemoness]

“Oh, of course. Outsiders hunting into territories that aren't their own must be punished to the fullest extent. I'm surprised you'll have any free time to attend at all, what with all the work Shadow's always delegating to you.”

[craftchild-deactivated20150311]

"Drink as much as you like – tonight’s the night for it, considering all drinks are on the house.”

[headdemoness]

Surprisingly personable for a witch. Approval gleams in her eyes as she reaches for a flute of something shockingly bright violet.

“It's very generous of you, paying for all of these drinks on the house.”

[catalinacvsta]

"Are you and daddy not getting along? You know, that’s usually how daddy fetishes start off." 

[headdemoness]

“Not getting along would be an understatement. But that's neither here nor there where your business is concerned, my dear.”

“I wonder though, are you projecting or speaking from personal experience?”

[thedemonroman-deactivated201411]

"Those loose ends sound a lot like your own personal problems. Unless you’re trying to tell me they happen to work at Sin’s or that I actually might care at all about one of those loose ends."

[headdemoness]

“Far be it from me to assume you possess an iota of tact, Roman. A lesser immortal found hunting on the wrong grounds from one of our districts in the other would be a problem for the both of us, would it not?”

[the-bastien]

"To each their own," he opened up his hands palms to the sky. 

Demons weren’t created at all, angels were created and they turned themselves into demons. But it wasn’t a thought Bastien wanted to bring to mind let alone say aloud, Margeaux would hardly want to hear it either so he stayed silent.

He looked at her appalled, drinking and celebration were two of three things Bastien held in high esteem. Part of the holy grail of Prague four. “Don’t tell me you’ve become a stick in the mud, Margeaux. You’ve got to learn to multitask.. or get some better employees.”

[headdemoness]

Gaze narrowing slightly, Margaux offered no immediate response. Her expression, however, had turned instantly, cold and bladed. The jokes about her reputation for being one of the stricter, harsher demons were uncreative after centuries of hearing the same regurgitated quips. When it came to her district, and she ran it though, all bets, as they say, were off.

“Bastien...” She said lightly, tone still conversational, but with a faux warmth. “I don't believe your lecturing me on how to manage my employees is necessary.”

A slow, leisurely sip from the glass in her hand, her eyes flicking swiftly back to the other demon. “I can multi-task just fine. Or need I remind you who brought in the highest numbers last year for the umpteenth time in a row?”

[daliamernickx]

"That will come in handy; there are lots of us." Dalia said, the polite smile still present on her lips. She had a slight idea who the woman was, but then again, Dalia didn’t get out much, so she could be wrong. "If you are suggesting some sort of alliance —which I am sure you are not— you have come to the wrong person." 

[headdemoness]

More than most of either Hell or Heaven, Margaux was quite well aware of the Mernick family and had been for some time. The knowledge was what came with so many years of existence. She could be offended, but a simple, nonchalant hum dismisses the temptation. “Oh, no, I was merely talking in a general sense. Powerful friends are useful anywhere.” She tilted her her head now, studying the woman with a measure of calculation.

“Indulge my curiosity for a moment  ––-  what makes you, of all the Mernicks, the wrong person to approach?”

[sydney-lasaite-deactivated20150]

Another demon. She truly was beginning to feel like she was a demon magnet. But, today, she felt a little more prepared. If she could handle the blonde demoness at the museum, she could handle anyone. “Nervous, ma’am? Perhaps… I’m just not used to parties, that’s all. I’d rather be reading a good book. But enough about me. I’m not important. Are you enjoying yourself, ma’am?”

[headdemoness]

An adequate set of manners were a quality Margaux valued in anyone, regardless of power or title. The little red-haired creature was certainly that. Graciously, Margaux smiled, the picture of affability.

“Parties, yes. This  ––- twenty-first century version of gyrating and binge drinking? Not so much. But I can appreciate the spirit of it.” She pursed her lips, more appreciative of the girl's demure nature than she usually cared to be.

“And come now. It's a masquerade. You certainly could be, at least for tonight.”

[miscreantmernick]

"Always attempting to hurt my feelings, always failing. Do you ever get tired, Margie? Tell me, I get curious."

"There’s a list. How much time have you got?"

[headdemoness]

“Of course not. We all know you're allergic to them. I could ask if you ever tire of being distastefully sarcastic all the time but that would be a pointless endeavour.“

“Sadly not enough time for what you'd need.“