heaven and hell

don't trust your eyesyou should have known better than to fall for that ) indie Daemon Spade roleplay blog (

[l-enqueteur-blog]

Alaudi glanced out of the window as they came to a stop, up the apartment he knew the illusionist lived in. Then he turned back in time to watch Daemon move in on him, distracted by the brush on his thigh. None of his muscles gave him away — always the perfect poker face when he could.

“Maybe,” he answered, tilting his head away from Daemon. The seatbelt was a little uncomfortable now, and his gaze was only questioning. Should they not be getting out anyway?

[mister-mistification]

As much as Daemon enjoyed coyness, downright stoicism only ever looked good on Alaudi. He lingered a moment, lips millimeters from the cloud’s ear, before he drew away and unbuckled his seatbelt to get out. 

“Maybe we can play a game to pass the time,” he hummed, already fishing the apartment key from his pocket. “You’re always an interesting opponent.” And he had plenty of games in mind.

[l-enqueteur-blog]

The corners of his lips twitched upwards in the slightest. He was not sure what was more entertaining really — the numerous thoughts and ideas going through Daemon’s mind that might match his own, or the anticipating look on the illusionist’s face. Probably the latter. “Almost handsome,” he murmured very inaudibly, not meant for the other to hear, moving his legs to cross over the ankles, toes nudging at Daemon’s abdomen.

[mister-mistification]

There was a little touch of nostalgia to this. It had been too long since he’d taken the time to properly reach out to Alaudi (or to anyone, at that). He glanced out of the corner of his eye, catching a little hum that he discarded as a mystery he’d likely never unravel. If he was intended to hear it then he would have. 

He slid the car into a parking spot with the ease of too much practise and popped the key from the ignition, but made no immediate move to leave. Instead he ran his hand up to one of Alaudi’s thighs and leaned across the armrest to purr into his ear. “Is that a new cologne?”

[l-enqueteur-blog]

His first thought had been wine — but this was Daemon. “I do not make promises to anyone who makes such suggestion with a pet name attached to it.” So he never gave direct answers, but he should already know that if there no ‘no’, he would still take it up.

If only because this little routine was too old between them.

[mister-mistification]

An even better response than he’d expected. Moving slowly, as though he were paying little attention, Daemon ran his finger down the curve of Alaude’s calf and paused at the delicate skin inside his ankle. “Your sense of adventure rivals mine,” he snickered in reply.”I’m sure we’ll find something entertaining.” Almost to his apartment. The anticipation was going to kill him.

[l-enqueteur-blog]

The skylark was an intelligence agent, one who observed to the smallest details. How gullible, here Alaudi thought, that such little gesture would get so much of a reaction from the other man, even if he tried to be subtle. He did  not do anymore than that though — maybe just a test to understand Daemon’s intentions. Then again, why would a test even be necessary.

“Are you saying you are not tasteful enough?” Though he would be glad to try — some wine was always good after dinner.

[mister-mistification]

“I make it a point not to drink wine alone.” And good company was so hard to find. Running a finger in circles on Alaude’s knee, Daemon paused as though he were thinking. “Come to remember, I have something that I was saving for you, Liebling. Promise me you’ll give it a try, ja?”

[l-enqueteur-blog]

"I do not remember anything else planned other than dinner." As if the implication was not enough.

He adjusted his position so that he was leaning against his seatbelt, pulling up his legs to place across the middle and just enough over Daemon’s legs. More comfortable this way, he thought.

[mister-mistification]

Hm. Neutrality, then. It wasn’t an outright rejection, and if he’d intended one then Alaudi would have given it. He paused a moment to look down at the feet on his lap, smirked, and laid his hand on the offered knee. There was the answer, apparently. It was difficult not to lick his lips in anticipation, but he did coax the car to a higher speed as subtly as he could possibly do.

“I’ve some unopened wine at home that deserves a tasteful drinker,” he hummed. “It would be a shame to let it sit any longer.”

[l-enqueteur-blog]

“The car does not equal to its owner,” was all he had to say as he buckled up and leaned an arm against the window. At least the interior’s scent was better than the cabs’. “Dinner was okay,” he replied, already a compliment for one like him.

[mister-mistification]

He’d take that as a compliment, even if it wasn’t meant to be. After pulling onto the road, Daemon laid his free hand on the armrest, the invitation to touch open. “And? You’re still interested in the rest of our schedule, Schatz?” Leaving an opening for refusal wasn’t wise, but more so was taking agreement for granted. Alaudi was likely to break bones if he was mistaken.

[l-enqueteur-blog]

“If you say so.” And Alaude immediately rounded to the passenger side, not waiting to be invited (he was already offered anyway) before opening the door and climbing in. He gave the interior one look through.

“Hn. It’s all right.” He noted that it was new.

[mister-mistification]

Humming, Daemon slipped into the driver’s seat and passed the valet a bill. “A high praise from someone with taste as high-class as yours,” he purred as he closed the door and started the car. It growled to life, dash lighting into an intricate series of meters. “Did you enjoy dinner?”

[l-enqueteur-blog]

“Because I came by taxi.” The logic being that he would of course return the same way.

Not that he was fond of them though — some could be too filthy for his taste, especially the later it got. Late night taxis usually had to pick up the worst of passengers. He glanced at Daemon. “You are offering me.” Not a question, of course.

[mister-mistification]

“It would be rude not to, wouldn’t it? And unnecessary.” 

Smiling blithely, Daemon gestured to the valet who’d returned to the front with a black sedan. “The passenger’s seat is very comfortable, Liebling.”

[l-enqueteur-blog]

The ambiance at dinner was nice, with candles and rose petals. Though Alaudi of course did not take it as anything romantic, but plainly a dinner with Daemon Spade, and now waiting outside the restaurant for his ride.

“No handcuffs though.” Not that he was disappointed. It was just what they talked about at the beginning of their conversation before this so-called date.

[mister-mistification]

“Not in the mood for them? What a shame.” The words didn’t match his voice, lilting with pleasure. “Why are you on the curb? I have a car.”

A new one, granted, with a brand new driver’s license; the novelty of cabs had worn off with their air fresheners. He didn’t bother asking the obvious--your place or mine? After all, he doubted Alaudi had readied his bed.

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The Wolf

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[kingofthetrash-deactivated20161]

Cards? With an illusionist? 

Honestly, it seemed like an exercise in futility to him, but he was hardly one to turn down what was obviously a veiled challenge, especially not someone with a past as… interesting as Daemon Spade’s. 

“Should I expect you to play fairly at all, or should I just resign myself to a night of frustration?” he asked, indicating the seat before his desk—an open invitation for the Mist to sit, if he so chose.

[mister-mistification]

“I won’t use illusions, if that’s what you mean.” Smiling blithely, Daemon took the indicated seat. Cheating was another story entirely--he was, as he should be, a talent in sleight of hand and card-counting. All tricks of the trade, really. Xanxus hadn’t a hope of seeing through illusions, but through other tricks was another thing entirely. A sharp man would catch them, and a sharper one would let on without calling him out. He’d wait and see.

“I do appreciate your humouring me. Exploring gets old around the second century.”

[kingofthetrash-deactivated20161]

Oh? Is that so?

He’s well aware of the traitor’s history, as well as his influence over both Primo and Secondo—and he respects the man, more than he’s willing to admit, for it.

“And how do you propose assessing my potential, trash?”

[mister-mistification]

“It’s a simple task, really.” He knows most of it, rather better than one would think--the cradle affair, of course, that was common knowledge, and it wasn’t difficult to piece together the domino effects it had made since then--but nothing does better than a good face-to-face read of a man. And the wheel of time really was spinning, wasn’t it? He’d been having deja vu much too often of late. “I’d like your company for a little while. Fancy a game of cards?”

[l-enqueteur-blog]

[mister-mistification]

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[mister-mistification]

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