serifsans:
Through it all, Jean-Paul remained perched and poised, hands folded in their lap as they tracked every minute movement of the devil with a small, polite smile. If Li was a predator, then Jean-Paul was the doe putting their neck into the wolf’s mouth willingly in spite of the fangs. Of course, much like deer, Jean-Paul would also gore you if push came to shove. It wasn’t Vampiru who made them that way, not really. It was Earth.
Vaporvolphs had no natural predators back Home, a paradise of nothing but sparkle and stardust for aeons upon aeons. Vampires may have given them their first taste of fear but it was only after the Entity devoured home that they truly understood what it really meant. Did they fear now? Yes. They feared losing Vladimir much worse.
“Are you? Marvelous,” they said, and it truly was if true…but then again, Vivi learned quickly on Vampiru that fondness never compelled anyone to take off their collar. Still, it was nice enough, they supposed, being liked by someone holding the leash. Made life easier. Volphs that fall out of favor get sent to the fighting rings.
(To Jean-Paul’s credit, they did not even flinch when the glass shattered, though the frivolous little part of them that hoarded trinkets like a dragon wanted to point out that was good Waterford crystal and not the lower end stuff sold at Macy’s. Jean-Paul wisely decided to say nothing about that and focused on the pretty showmanship instead.)
“You have no idea how glad I am to hear that, darling,” the vaporvolph said. “I mean that in the figurative sense; of course you do. A living volph is much more useful than a dead one and I do so like to be useful.”
They also, naturally, had a vested interest in continuing their life as long as possible. Were they human, they might be so inclined as to let out a breath they didn’t know they were holding but as they were a vaporvolph and one whose human facade didn’t extend much further than purely surface level (and certainly not to the level of lungs when they didn’t need to speak), they instead delicately put aside their glass in preparation for what was to follow. Vladimir wouldn’t have wanted them to give up eternity just for him but Jean-Paul would’ve spent the last few decades of his life living as a human on all levels for his sake. Still, they liked living and Vladimir would’ve hated spending eternity alone. Jean-Paul had loved others in his life but Vladimir, despite his idle wanderings, only loved one man in his life.
“I never expect anything to come free, let alone something like this,” the vaporvolph said, bathed in flame and new understanding. “What you need from me, take it. If it hurts, then so be it. And no, don’t be absurd.”
The dainty little shopkeeper suddenly dissolved into smoke, replaced by the rapidly changing forms of the vaporvolphs he had come to know again in the past few months, even the horrid one who broke all those plates, which he was still cross about when he thought about it.
“They don’t have anything to do with this. It doesn’t mean anything to them. Meaning has to account for something, doesn’t it?”
Their form flickered to a tall, rail-thin rock star, both biter and bitten.
“It’s not actually a sacrifice if you’re taking it from someone else.”
A little pink volph, shivering in anticipation.
The problem with The Little Mermaid isn’t that every step hurt her feet.
And then a shopkeeper again, standing at the devil’s side.
“It’s that she chose the wrong fucking prince.”
“I don’t settle for anything less than the best, darling, and you shouldn’t either. Don’t you want the best, hm? I’ve been told I’m very good.”
The devil watched.
Li watched, and with the watching every grain of information was carefully tucked away and stored, every whisper of desire savored on the tongue like honey and every theatrical dance of Jean-Paul’s impassioned speech given its due glint of appreciation.
Once it was done and Jean-Paul was at Li’s side and the vestiges of passion stained the air like the scent of honeysuckle, well... the devil could only smile a warm, wicked smile.
“And so you are.” Li lifted the stem of their glass between two fingers and winked before setting it back down. “Forgive my little test, dearest one. It’s all well and good that I can sense your desires, but to have the strength of them spoken aloud? That is power felt even in the furthest reaches of hell.”
Li then stroked his face, stepped forward and swiveled. With the motion went his form; it melted into charcoal-dark and deep, deep scarlet so rich it seemed as velvet, and so too did the clothing fall away into smoke that rose from cloven feet to hug the naked lines of Lilth’s androgynous form. Tattoos spiraled over their body in arcane whispers and lines, transitioning from ink-black to trapped magma pulsing beneath skin. Their soft ears tapered into jet-like floating hair from which massive horns, flame-tipped, spiraled up and out to curl towards the walls of the room.
It had become noticeably hot. Obsidian eyes slit by fire regarded Jean-Paul with a tilt of the head.
“To your sacrifice.” They bowed, gentlemanly still. “And Vladimir’s long life.” The floating, ephemeral lines of devilish runes they had drawn before cascaded and coalesced between them. The sigils drew in before they dispersed outward to form points. Threads of fire connected the points and lit a circle that vined out into more and more details, and in the blink of an eye a glyph floated between them, pentagram-like, where the terms of a contract--a trade--reflected back in fire.
Lilth’s hand lifted and waited in the center of it.
To everything you desire.
This time, the handshake would mean something.
