Nobody's Aubade

Riley Cross. Accountant, lesbian, and an abomination in the eyes of God (unrelated to previous). independent cambion rp blog. writer and character 21+. mutuals only. #incubabe

[incubabe]

Please like, reblog, and plain old follow if you’d like to interact with my fandomless, modern fantasy OC --  Riley Cross, certified public accountant and reluctant abomination in the eyes of God. The libidophagic condition alone is troublesome enough, and that before the target painted on her back for being born damned. Unpleasant bookkeeping aside, she enjoys travel shows, the fresh tang of cool mountain air, and intimate nights with pleasant women. It’d be nice to expand the friend pool, or, failing that, the little black book. 

Writer and character 21+. Sensitive content possible and appropriately tagged (i.e., #nsfvv. and #spiders cw.), though strictly optional. Thank you for your time.

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[incubabe]

"Troublin' to watch The Ghost in the Shell and see I have exactly that gay little blue pin-stripe the Major wears in my closet. And have worn it out to bars."

[incubabe]

"So her name's Remielle but she went by Ramiel? That's -- it's not a very good pseudonym, is it? Like me going by Raleigh Crux."

[incubabe]

Anyway. What if this but it's with Riley, and also the other lady is a demon hunter and Knows and probably just projected that adolescent Riley was into her (since Riley didn't really Have Emotions until college) and it's all a little weird.

[incubabe]

@cursedcrest [x]

"yes... it's actually quite awful this time." mariannne scratches gently at the patch of scales the back of their hand in confirmation- a mosaic of faux stars, set against nightsky blues. the flare up had been particularly intense this time- irritating to the point of perpetual and overwhelming distraction. they laugh aloud at her clarification, amusement shining on in their eyes. there's a genuine mirth to the smile spread across their mouth- cutting through the distracting and itchy pain; bright enough to light a room. "i could tell what you meant. i'll get you something to drink for the trouble."

“Nah, it's no trouble.” There aren't many people Riley could go to about Tail Problems. She could enthrall her doctor, sure, but that didn't make them any more knowledgeable about extra-human extremities. Gotta treat the few she has right.

Soon enough, she's laid the dragonkin out in her living room, stripped to their level of comfort. Which could be nude, far as Riley cared. Not in the wise, nudity is not sexual thing, but in the so desensitized to it that you don't care way. Achieving enlightenment by being so worn down that your libido drifts into the void. That was good, right?

In attendance are the demi-devil's hound and feline; the former snuffling Marianne's hand in hopes of sparking some petting, the latter more intrigued by the episode of Antiques Roadshow Riley'd thrown on for background noise. (Pitzhanger Manor and Gallery, Part 3.)

"Full massage treatment or just the problem areas?" She'd worked the lotion into her palms to warm it up as she ran through hand-stretches. "Not to be gauche, but I think you could use a bit of relaxation." Kind enough to not restate it as 'really it seems you're in a permanent mild panic attack state,' but there was no need to belabor that point.

[dustxechoes]

"I understand your...frustration, with my need for secrecy, but you may come up with a more flattering sobriquet. We are not some...common thieves."

She drummed her fingers against her arm and furrowed her brow. As a well-disciplined warrior, it should be more difficult to get under her skin. But Riley made it seem absolutely effortless. Which was all the more frustrating. Even if there was merit to her advice.

"Protocol exists just as much for my own protection as yours. I am already breaking the rules and violating the trust I have been given just by speaking with you. What could I need to see on these web sites that justifies risking further disgrace?"

For as grateful as Imperatrice was for her friendship, Riley was still a civilian. A normal human being, with her own, normal concerns. They operated in different worlds. Or so Imperatrice believed. Worlds that should remain as separate as was possible at this point.

"I think my view of the world has expanded too much for my liking as it is."

[incubabe]

"No, of course. You’re men of honor, uomo di rispetto, unlike the -- aw, wait, no, that's mobsters, again. Dang. These illegal organizations all look alike! How's a wise guy supposed to tell the difference?" Times like these, the jester's privilege made sense; someone needed to remind the insular and mighty that they existed as part of, as one infamous fictional jester might say, a society. If it took a disguised devil to do that to a devil hunter, well... that was a dumb idea, but Riley was in too deep to stop.

At first, it was for the sick pleasure of getting Imperatrice in a corner, until she couldn't deny it any longer. Then, in the process of leading that particularly Italian horse to the water of honesty, she'd developed a fondness for the little freak. It wasn't like Riley was against hunters. When someone passed from 'non-human' to 'human-killer,' yeah, they needed to be dealt with. It was those hunters that defied any form of coexistence that she took exception to, and she still wasn't sure which camp this technophobic blonde belonged to. Techphobic. Technophobic was not liking Daft Punk, probably.

“Alright. Here’s a question. Why are there so many tourists in this beautiful city? Besides the usual seasonal flow. Easy one. Anyone who’s spent a minute online should know it. Not knowing would make you stand out in a negative way; you can’t expect to protect people when you can’t blend in with them.”

[incubabe]

"Oh fuck Riley, I think I fucked up. I was hitting on this really cute butch woman but it turned out to be just some twink guy."

@haemoxin

Riley, who had been under the impression Ms. Cain was herself a bisexual, frowned for a moment as she processed the thought. Perhaps she was lucky, having the sense to determine when someone counted as Feedable, and being able to divine this at a glance gave an implicit sense of gender identity. No, not lucky, being a devil was unending suffering. But advantaged, in this one particular field. Hm. Food for thought.

"You have to move town. There's nothing to be done. I know that Amsterdam is supposed to be lovely. I'm sorry. I'll help you arson the shop."

[incubabe]

"Hey. Don't cry. An extra hour in the ball pit, okay?"

[fleetingreflection]

Faith smiled down at Riley and let her speak without interrupting her even if she didn't understand any of it. Just being with her like this was nice and hearing her go on about different TV series made her wonder if she would like any of them if she would ever see them.

"Riley... I don't watch television."

It would have been more accurate to say that she didn't have a television, but she got the point across that she didn't know about any of the things Riley mentioned. It was also a wordless way to say that if Riley ever wanted to have some company to watch a series with Faith was just one phone call away. The only glimpses of entertainment she got was when she was visiting friends, though she didn't have many.

Faith let out a gasp when she felt the elastic of her pants snap against her before being gently rolled off from the top. "I wouldn't have done that." She huffed back a bit too quickly. Faith definitely would have ride that adrenaline high to a climax if she would have been given a chance.

The runner watched Riley get up and stretch first before doing the same. She chuckled and shook her head. "No thanks, I will run." She then pat Riley on the shoulder in the passing as she made her way towards the edge of the roof where the fire escape was. "I might be there before you are... Anything you want me to pick up along the way? I could stop by in a store or a cafe." Faith asked before she winked at Riley before dropping down to the fire escape. She raise her voice to yell and expected Riley to do the same.

"The last one at your place is a rotten egg!"

[incubabe]

"Pfft. Well, you should. The hell else's there to talk to your buddies about when you get together around the elite free runner's water cooler other'n' the most recent episode'a Love Island?" For legal purposes, this was a joke: Riley would never watch reality TV to keep up with pop culture. A bridge too far. It was already a punish keeping up with the local sports team. She rolled her eyes as Faith passed.

"Yeah, if you could stop by the corner store 'n' pick up a nice anvil, that'd be nice." She didn't yell back, but her voice carried, peeking over the roof's edge to watch Faith climb down. "And if you get there first, don't you dare use up all my hot water in the shower." Watched her go, and then it was back to finish wiping up their makeshift picnic. Far from trying to leave no trace, like a pro runner might, it would be shitty to leave behind litter. The city was gross enough. By the time the devil had cleaned up, and climbed down the fire escape herself, Faith was long gone.

...And, of course, she made it to Riley's apartment first. A telepathic ping from the devil's familiar confirmed it before she'd even finished parking. "Better not be too smug about it..." she grumbled, and headed in.

[nouvomond]

❝ You had ONE JOB!! IS EDGING ME FUNNY TO YOU?! ❞

[incubabe]

"You were looking so absolutely desperate that I had to do something, kitten. What, did you want me to ravish you instead?"

[dustxechoes]

@incubabe

"I do not see how an online dating profile would be beneficial to my mission. Nor do I think my er, family. Would approve."

Imperatrice folded her arms across her chest and frowned. She'd been introduced to the entire concept of social media about ten minutes ago, and she couldn't say she wasn't fascinated...a virtual place of commons, where normal people gathered to share and debate ideas. But surely, diving in as unprepared as she was would be a step too far, wouldn't it? At best she'd risk making a fool of herself.

But she was no coward, was she? No, she had long ago been thrown into the dread inferno, and watched her fearful hide burn away in the conflagration. There was no beast in this world so fearsome, no darkness so deep, as to frighten her. Surely, she could handle a simple 'on-line hangout' ?

She shook her head.

"...Besides. I do not even own a mobile phone."

[incubabe]

"I thought we were past this. What La Cosa Nostra doesn't know won't hurt them." If Imperatrice wouldn't give her crew a name, then they would be tarred with the brush of the Mafia. Difference being -- outside looking in -- that the mob was allowed to have fun in between all the extrajudicial murder. "Consider it blending practice. If I could see through you, then the enemy can, too." But then she caught the closing argument.

"Christ. You're still usin' pay phones, aren't you? We're goin' to the 7/11 and gettin' you a burner." What kind of bullshit hunter's compact didn't even let their members use an old style Nokia? Riley didn't know many, in fairness, but surely the utility of asynchronous, instant communication would far outstrip privacy concerns. Sure, The Government could do the Batman seeing through your cellphone thing, but it was too expensive for a small-time band of what appeared to be serial murderers.

"It doesn't have to be a dating site. Just -- expand your view'a the world. Lurk on Reddit, whatever. I can't be your only lifeline."

[incubabe]

"Here's my pitch for a reboot. Asexual Hellraiser where they just give you increasingly complex Rubik's Cubes to solve."

[phenomenally-skilled]

Lydia's being was rigid on impact, her body unwilling to move as their kiss gradually deepened until she was met with a carefully practiced shove onto her back. Almost like an ice sculpture being broken upon solid ground, her careful demeanor was shattered completely.

"If this was a game of blackjack, and you were the dealer," Lydia gazes up at Riley a yearning in her eyes, "I would ask you to hit me every time."

The ex-angel grabs at her shirt, pulling it up and over her head and letting it drop on the floor. Underneath, she had a small cami top with an orange cat on it that read 'Let me pet your kitties'.

"By... proxy, that also means you're leading," Lydia adds, a shy smile turning the very corners of her lips up, "But you seem suited for that role, yeah?"

[incubabe]

God, damn. Real people are so bizarre. Just say 'I want to have sex with you.' 'Let's bang.' 'I want you to put your mouth on my genitals.' This -- this didn't mean anything! Why was she being so serious about it? She hardly knew Riley's name! The whole thing was miserable. Old Shopenhauer could go to Hell; this was worse than the hedgehog's dilemma. Halfway connections kept at a distance, or else the closeness would hollow the partner out, and make them better for feeding. Great if you wanted to be a monster, but this was no way to survive.

Swallow it down. No. None of that showed, because it never showed, because nobody wanted a sad sack to make them cum.

"Just lay back 'n' leave it to me." They had sex. While Riley was momentarily surprised by Lydia's situation, she was a consummate predator and a meal was a meal. The usual routine was minutely edited, and soon enough the veterinarian was left wholly satisfied, and the devil wholly satiated. Neither grander cosmological secret revealed. With a gratified sigh, Riley slicked her hair back. Definitely... a bit fuller than she usually felt from a meal, but that could be owed to the lessened time between. The cloying sensation of smug invincibility, superiority. Didn't like it.

"How's that, kitten? Y'good?" She wiped her mouth off. Spat it out, but she was at least subtle and graceful about it. (Healthfulness was all well and good, but it had to be maintained.) "Some water?"

[incubabe]

“The last time I checked, the Morningstar doesn’t look like that puppet from Jigsaw got yassified.”

[incubabe]

30 years ago: Maria Cavalcante summons and conceives a child with an unidentified devil. Reasoning unknown.

29 years ago: Ms. Cavalcante legally changes name to Annabeth Cross.

29 years ago: Annabeth gives birth. The child, Riley, shows no signs of infernal influence nor heritage, owing to manifold binding thaumaturgies. Mother and child settle in Philadelphia.

29-15 years ago: continued lack of infernal expression in child. Bindings are maintained; child's lack of emotional expression not fully noted due to stresses of being single mother and lacking other children to compare against.

12 years ago: Riley enters a local college following an accounting program.

10 years ago: Annabeth is in a car accident. She dies on impact. Thaumaturgic bindings are immediately severed. Riley begins to express infernal heritage: color blindness, growth of spaded tail etc, libidophagic hunger.

9 years ago: partial demonification complete. Riley graduates college and earns her accounting certification.

7 years ago: Riley is hired by an accounting firm.

6 years ago: Riley reads through enough of her mother's grimoires to puzzle out much of their history. She begins to practice magic.

5 years ago: a devil hunter assaults Riley. Owing to their minimal skill and erratic drive, she manages to escape. This is the first hunter of many.

3 years ago: Riley makes contact with the Goetic devil Sitri. They come to agree, whether true or not, that Sitri is Riley's sire.

2 years ago: Riley is promoted to accounting manager at her firm, having unconsciously used her charm to force the issue after being fed up at continual snubs for promotion. This promotion allows her her own office which she begins to reinforce as she has her home.

1 year ago: Riley meets the familiar Whiskey and ultimately accepts her as her own. Her practice in magic skyrockets as a result of the partnership.

- years ago: current day.

[under-eden]

"His name was Kyousuke Sawaki and thank you Riley." Asagi had ordered a drink from the menu called 'Between the sheets'. It certainly had a strange name to it and when she received it, she couldn't help but take a liking to it.

"A sweet, citrusy, and warm flavor. How does yours taste Riley?"

@incubabe

[incubabe]

"Kyousuke, here's to you. May y'be in heaven half an hour before the devil knows you're gone." Perhaps a bit Irish, so she finished it off on balance with "À nossa saúde." There; that'd keep the human ancestors off her back. Maybe Kyousuke was an addict, maybe he'd become a crypto bro or cheated on Hina. Either way, that'd cover the breadth of his fates.

"'S good. Screwdriver's simple, hard to make badly.” Just orange juice and vodka, after all. “I don't have a particularly refined drinkin' palate; never evolved beyond college-style 'tryin' not to taste the liquor.'" Choking down Everclear with Sprite as a chaser, surrounded by people who weren't friends but attracted by the uncontrolled charm... no, better not to ruminate overlong on those years.

At the edge of consciousness, her sense pinged. At least three prospective candidates; two looked alone, and bored -- her perfect prey. The hunger didn't care so much about the three day stretch between meals; principles didn't satiate. It wanted food then-and-there. For a moment, Riley felt a twinge of resentment toward Hina as an albatross, shook it off. Not her fault she was nice enough to let herself get dragged to a bar.

"What did you used to enjoy? That your sister says you should get back to. 'M sure as your supervisor, or whatever, I should say that your single-minded focus on administrative work is laudable, but I know there's more to you'n that."

[dustxechoes]

Independent semi-selective multimuse featuring characters from Mega Man and Armored Core VI, and original characters from My Hero Academia, Fallout New Vegas, Warhammer 40k, and World of Darkness, as well as general modern fantasy and scifi. Written by Echo

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