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@reaperpact
Private, independent fandomless Original Reaper and his bonded demon, as written by Sparrow. With verses for FFXIV, Marvel, The Dresden Files and more. Established December 2024 See here for guidelines, muse info, verses and content warnings Headcanons tag - memes tag - starter calls - promo Main blog: @inhcritance (Spider-Man PS games Harry Osborn)
Demons? Now that is a concept he doesn't have any experience with, in fact he doesn't even have any knowledge about it aside from the definition of the word. Charles wasn't raised to be religious, and every 'entity' he'd heard of had turned out to be a mutant of some sorts - like Apocalypse.
It's not a stretch that that is the case this time too, if Cassius hadn't seemed to be so sure of himself. And the bird he had with him was definitely odd, too. Even to someone as well versed in biology and different kinds of species as Charles is.
"Well I'm not particularly tempted by the idea of being possessed, but there has to be a reason you came here to talk to me. So - if there's anything you want from me, then I suggest you convince me in some other way of the importance of your request. If you can't do that, then I'm afraid we are going to have to part ways from here." One might think it's a cold statement - but Charles thinks it's a necessary one. He's not quite as docile as a lot of people seem to think he is.
"The importance," Cassius says, eyes steady and tone even, because he has grown up in the Winter Court of the fair folk and so he's as steady as a soul can be, "is that I am yet to find anyone like me. Is that I am not human, and my mother's kind do no longer seek out my father's kind as they did, and it grates on the soul to always be a stranger."
It is as much truth as he can say, for it's the whole truth, and he knows that without Esseia, without her particular sense of humor and her way to see the world, he would have lost his mind so long ago already.
"And its importance is that you take care of those who are like you alone, and that is all I needed to know."
He had hoped better, he is not so much disappointed as he is tired. It is always a chance, isn't it?
"Nevertheless, if you ever have need of a mercenary, or someone aware of the intricacies of dealing with the denizens of Below," he adds, as he stands up, in a fluid movement, a raven made of shadows settling over his shoulders, "you are always welcome to call upon me. It is my duty to help."
Maybe he was expecting Cassius to tell him to fuck off, or to punch him. But that wasn't what happened. Cassius actually answered. With more detail than Fetch thought that he was deserving of. He blinked. He almost felt bad.
"Did you worry about them... I don't know. Being evil, I guess?" He popped the trunk and slung his things into the back unceremoniously. A pause as he examined Cassius' face. The smile was genuine. Or at least it wasn't mean, and that was interesting also. "You bring anything? Or... Or do you not need to do that?" Fetch had noted the one bag. It was smaller than he would have expected.
It was strange to think about. That Esseia might take care of the things that Fetch has to take care of himself.
Stranger still to think about how long he must have been alive. Cassius had laid it out. Told him he was older than Fetch could even really think about. And it was true. A smile cracked his lips, unfamiliar on his lips. It lingered for a moment. "I want to see that. I'll drive us out of the city, when I get tired you and your friend can take over for a bit."
He almost said thank you, but Fetch didn't think that was wise. They hadn't even really gotten started yet, had they?
This could still fall apart. He opened the door and gestured for Cassius to get inside. "You like music?"
Cassius held many, many secrets. He was also old, and wizened by time, and at this point he knew what he was comfortable answering, and what he wasn't. And for all he'd done his research on Fetch, it didn't change how Cassius did let very few people find much about him without his very interference... mainly because that tended to become a bother.
"You find, once you live long enough, that morality, and good and evil, are very mutable concepts."
Kindness and hatred weren't, but good and evil? Those had changed a lot.
"But I was very, very dissatisfied." He went on, before regarding Fetch, and then his own bag. He could spend some time without eating, in truth, but as matters were... What he had was both money and experience, and knowledge. "And fret not, we'll manage." He even chuckled.
The matter of music was an easy one, answered with a comfortable 'go ahead' of a gesture, as Cassius got into the car, gave it a proper look, and then focused on Fetch again.
"You are a surprisingly steady man, Fetch Philips." He settled for. Time to start asking questions too, after Esseia's continued prodding. "How did you end up making of these... tangled situations your job?"
@reaperpact
"Is it rude to ask how you and Esseia met?" Obviously Fetch didn't care if it was rude or he wouldn't have asked at all. He hoisted his bag over his shoulder and gave Cassius a look over. Honestly he hadn't expected them to actually agree to join up with him, but he'd gotten his affairs in order and Fetch felt a little bit better about going off on this less than intelligent plan with someone who had a little more experience.
Or two someones, he supposed.
The car he rented was black and nondescript. It'd do the job. Fetch wasn't looking to get attached to something he couldn't afford. And he definitely couldn't afford this. He popped the trunk.
"Luggage can go back here. I got some..." Snacks was too generous of a word. It was mostly cigarettes and sunflower seeds. "Stuff. Anyway. We're in for a bit of a drive." At least he had something of an idea of where he was going to be going.
Which probably meant that other people did too. But that made it all the more important to get started going. He tucked his pistol under the driver seat and took up the wheel. "Can you drive at all or is it all down to me?"
Was it rude? Certainly a little, but it was far from the worst rudeness they had faced, and Cassius, all in all, found it a little bit amusing. And so, as he regarded the car, and walked around it once to see there was nothing outwardly and outright disastrous on it, considered the answer.
"I was a very... dissatisfied youth. A son without inheritance." He settled for. "I needed a purpose, and met the right person at the right time, when they were still looking for hosts." He smiled. It was not a cruel smile. "And so we started working together."
He knew they hadn't really been expected to last, as a team. And he'd been happy to prove everyone wrong.
Regarding driving, however, he offered an easy shrug, despite Esseia's quiet dislike of the car. She had never really liked those machines, it was why Cassius was used to travel light, and only carried a bag with him, but didn't have a car of his own. This was far from the worst he'd traveled in.
"I can drive." He replied. "But it is up to you, for now." And then, "Rest assured, I will take over if we encounter a chariot." He even joked.
They regarded each other for a long moment. Inside something screamed at Fetch that this was a terrible idea. He staunchly ignored it and held his hand out for Cassius to take for a firm shake. It seemed fair. And he didn't even have to split his money.
And if he wound up pissing this guy and his tagalong off enough that they leave him alone when things get the way they tend to get, Fetch figured he was better off for it. It wouldn't be the first time.
Cassius could be helpful. But they could be a hinderance, the two of them. He just had to play his cards right.
Fetch wet his lips and gave Cassius' hand a firm shake. "Something new I think I can do." It wasn't quite a promise, but the way things were going...
"I like the museum up the street. Baxter's the curator and a buddy of mine. Your Essia might know them. Maybe you too, actually..." If they'd been around as long as they said. Fetch fumbled for his pack of cigarettes again and fit one between his lips.
He couldn't guarantee an ending. And that was new enough for him. Fetch stood and left a handful of cash on the counter for the bartender. He needed to get out and walk around in the rain a bit. That'd clear him up. "Right. Do you know where my office is?" Cassius had known his name before Fetch had a chance to lay it out for him.
It was only natural to suspect that they knew where he lived.
"I can call you too, if you've got a number." He'd have to scrawl it on his palm and try not to smear it too bad before he got home, but there were options.
He was old, and had seen much, and Esseia was far older. But the implication that she too might be familiar with the curator would have raised alarm bells in so, so many people: how could they not check the museum, after this? "Then I believe we'll pay them a visit." He conceded, before the matter changed, and he offered Fetch an easy nod, even as he took out a small calling card, with silver letters against a black background. Simple, sober, and elegant. It had a name, a phone number and an e-mail address, and he expected that to be enough.
Moreover, he was glad Fetch had caught on, that Cassius had done his research: He did know where his office was.
"Then we shall meet very soon, Mr. Phillips." And then, "It has been a pleasure."
Unlike quite a number of interactions, all in all. This was a welcome relief, and quite a beginning for his curiosity.
Cassius' assertions did not make Fetch feel very confident at all. But then, he'd been stupider before. He passed a hand over his face and stubbed out his cigarette.
Fetch let out a low whistle. That was an unexpected number. "Jesus, really? You don't look anywhere close to that old." Not with a face like that, anyway. Fetch wondered if Esseia left if Cassius would retain his good looks or if he'd be dissolved to nothing but dust. If all the years would catch up to him.
"Guess that's why this asshole wants one." But that's only if he worked well with the Fallen he was hosting. All of this was making his brain hurt.
He swallowed hard.
"What happens if you get bored?" Fetch had been intriguing before. It'd ended spectacularly horribly. He was trying to avoid that as much as possible. He thought maybe he was only interesting until people worked it out. Worked him out. Fetch wasn't keen to let anyone beneath the surface to find the truth of him anyway. And that could get boring too.
He rubbed the back of his neck. "For what it's worth I'm not interested in getting into contact with the faction leaders." At least not yet. "Call me stubborn, but I think we'll do alright on our own." For now, anyway. And that was all Fetch really liked to think about. The now.
Something like a knife slice of sunshine cut through the barrage of rain. It made the roads shiny and reflective.
"That's settled, then. We're doing this. I have to swing by the office and pick up the rest of my payment. It'll probably take a week to get everything together. Rent a car. Look at maps..." Already he was regretting this entire thing, but the late bills on his desk forced his hand. He took a deep breath. "So you don't need money. What do you need?"
Fetch couldn't really imagine not needing money. But then he wasn't a man possessed. Not in the same sense Cassius was, in any case.
What happened if he got bored, and that was a question worth asking. One that made something in Cassius want to play with his food, want to toy around with this man who was so far entertaining enough.
And after so long, with all he had seen, all he had been witness to? Well, even if he did not look as old as he was, very few things could surprise him anymore.
"You are used to working alone, and I know how to be unobtrusive." Until he didn't want to be, of course. "In the best case scenario," for Fetch, of course, "If we get bored, we merely leave. You are on your own again."
If he betrayed him, or earned worse, well, then he'd let Esseia get creative. But there was no reason to make an ally nervous, not yet.
And a week was but a blink, in the grand scheme of things.
"What I need, Fetch Philips," he answered, in the end, "is to see something new to me, or something worth seeing. To witness humanity, and purpose, and maybe something new to ponder for the upcoming years." He went on. "And I am happy to wait for a week, for an adventure." He went on. "There is much in this city I still wanted to visit."
He liked noticing the little changes. It was the beauty of humanity.
"Any landmarks you'd recommend?"
Most days it was impossible to make Fetch feel more stupid than he already did. Cassius seemed to have his number and didn't mind dialing it though.
Fetch rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.
He hadn't even thought about it that way. That destroying the coins might remove the cage and thus release the Fallen trapped within. That would be just as bad as some idiot getting their hands on the coins in the first place.
Briefly he wondered what would happen if someone found more than one. What would that even look like? He decided he didn't want to know, actually. It was probably horrific. Fetch sucked his teeth for a moment and studied the rain as it continued to beat against the sidewalk like it was worried it might just get up and walk away before it'd learned its lesson.
"So. What do you propose? Lock box?" Even saying it sounded stupid, but Fetch pressed on, "Or like... Burying it or something? Keep it from getting into anyone's hands, not just my client?"
This was already turning out to be more dangerous than Fetch had really signed on for. But the cash felt good in his pocket and if not for this he might be in a ditch skunk drunk and homeless.
Again.
Which wasn't to say that if they did this, found the coin and refused to turn it over, that he might not end up that way anyway. He rubbed at his eyebrow for a moment and let out a frustrated huff.
"Sounds impossible." And that was exactly how anyone got Fetch's attention in the first place. Make it impossible. Because something in him felt some kind of sick satisfaction in throwing himself against impenetrable walls. "You two ever try to find any of the others?"
Because he wanted to know what he was getting into. As much as possible. Fetch worried at his lip hard enough to split the skin. He turned around to grab at the napkin for his drink and dab it with a scowl. The sharp taste of blood ruined just about everything for the minute.
"I'll split my fee with you but something tells me you're not actually interested in the money part of all this." Fetch just had to find an angle.
They were very human questions, and questions most hosts who lived long enough to wonder asked. Or so Cassius had seen, when they had not worked alone. Of course, he had been Esseia's first host, so neither of them had the means to compare, but they'd watched the others for long enough.
"A strong enough lock might earn you five years, perhaps ten." Cassius considered, tapping idly the bar. "Burying it would be an invitation for someone to dig, for very unrelated reasons." He added. "But the more remote, the more time is earned."
Barely nothing, in the grand scheme of things, but enough to solve their problem.
"It is impossible to contain them forever." And yet, after a moment, he decided to speak again. Reveal a little. "But I have been Esseia's host for more than two millennia." He told Fetch. "Enough to know most of the others that have been for more than decades, at the very least in passing."
And then, at the offer of money, Cassius smiled. It was not a cruel smile, merely amused.
"I have no need of money. But you are an intriguing man, and I yearn to see how you will tackle this challenge."
Maybe even help.
"Ask for it, and I will track the main leaders of the factions among us, and bring you to them. But think it wisely." He warned, before his smile showed some teeth. "And make sure we do not get bored."
The smile dimming is hard to miss, but Charles keeps his expression the same. He'd like to help - love to even - but he has to protect his students. Has to protect his own kind. So until he is absolutely certain that Cassius is no threat to his people, he's not going to say yes to helping him.
"Mutants, yes. Homo superior is another word for it." It sounded arrogant, yes. Maybe. But it's the truth. They're the next step in evolution. Charles has known that for a long time. And to no surprise - the humans aren't very happy about it.
He thinks about his words for a moment, observing the other with a neutral expression as he leans back in his chair. "My kind have been tortured, experimented on and killed for merely existing.. Surely you can understand I'm not too eager to invite any outsiders in.. But I'm also not the right person to turn someone away when they truly need my help. So why don't you tell me why you seek my help - oh and.." He taps his fingers on his desk. "I'm going to require you to give me permission to use my ability. I want no secrets. That's my end of the bargain."
Homo Superior, and Cassius does not smile. It would not have been a nice gesture, when he grew up with those who considered themselves superiors to humans. What would the Fae courts think of them, he can only wonder. Would they recognize them as equals, or merely as human as well?
He just nods, however. Considers it. He does not need help, not in the sense that he's being chased, or in danger. What he seeks is community, but he knows he could easily live without it. He also understands protection, and the desire to give it.
"Your kind is very young, in the public eye." He tells Charles. "I understand your caution."
Giving him access to his mind, however... He supposes that is the end, is it not?
"I hold secrets of many others." He tells Charles, as Esseia ruffles her feathers. "But even if I didn't... I do not know if it would be safe." He adds. And then, "For you."
And before it can be taken as a threat, he speaks again.
"My mind is guarded, but you could likely read it. Esseia's, however... it is a different matter. And we are bonded. A necessity, to fight demons." He explains. "I do not know what could happen, if you tried to read us." He goes on. "I know it would hurt anyone attempting..." he looks for the word, for a moment, before he finds it: "possession."
The thought was sobering. Fetch frowned and ordered them both another drink. He didn't particularly like the idea that he'd have to race against other idiots like himself. He didn't like the thought that he'd have to win or something worse could happen. Of course he was catastrophizing.
As if there was anything that could be good about any of this.
Cassius asked Fetch to lay it on him, his pitch. He wet his lips, took a deep breath before facing Cassius. He set his brow. Fetch had no idea what Esseia looked like, but he could imagine her sitting next to Cassius and looking at him with a very similar expression.
He passed a hand through his hair and sat up a little, preparing. "Let me ask you a question, first. If we find it, you have any idea how to-- - I mean can these things be destroyed? And do you know how?"
And if Cassius didn't have answers...
Well that was just fine. Fetch wouldn't be deterred so easily now that he's made up his mind. Reputation be damned. Maybe this is what he was supposed to be doing anyway. Keeping the world from getting worse. And he could do that by himself. Something told him he could get the two of them curious enough to tag along, though.
He just had to play his cards right.
"Because obviously I can't let him get it. Which means keeping it out of lots of people's hands. And I definitely don't want it. I can't exactly walk away now, can I?"
A question, and Cassius leaned back, dialing down a little the display of his interest, but still raising an eyebrow. Wondering, considering... And yes, there it was. A question he had heard several times, over the centuries. A question he had asked himself.
"Do you not think," he replied instead, mildly amused, "that if they could be destroyed, they would have been already?"
And it was not a bad question, in truth, but it was simply far from that easy.
"Or perhaps I should phrase the question differently." He mused. "Do you think we mortals can destroy them?"
The answer, to the best of his knowledge, was negative.
"Fetch, if I may call you just Fetch." He went on, suddenly a bit more serious. "It is the nature of the coins to be in circulation, in search of a host for the Fallen therein contained. And I say contained," he went on, "for a reason."
He didn't know what could happen, if they were ever freed upon the earth. He hoped he could witness Esseia's full power, if it ever happened, if he was able to.
"You would not be the first to try, however. The Church has, throughout all these years."
Fetch raked his eyes over Cassius for a moment. This was not the sort of situation he aimed to find himself in. On the one hand it seemed fortunate. On the other...
It just made Fetch feel like he needed to throw this job even more.
He rubbed the back of his neck and puffed on his cigarette for a moment. He might not have any real knowledge about any of this coin business, but Cassius' assertion felt right. People were like that. Stupid. Everyone always thought they were special and it was very rare that they were. Fetch wasn't stupid enough to think that if he managed to find what his client was looking for that he'd overcome the same possession his client thought he could.
With a sigh he sat back a little, hand scrubbing at his patchy beard. "So. Either I lose. Or we lose. Great." At least he'd been paid half up front.
"Fuck." A quiet swear. He ashed his cigarette on the provided ash tray and fixed Cassius with a searching expression. "If I don't bring it to him, he'll hire someone that will. And I can almost guarantee that whatever he does with whatever power he gets won't be good."
People are like that. Shitty. Fetch didn't have any hope that his client would prove to be any different. He might be stupid, but he wasn't a complete idiot.
He chewed on his lip for a moment. "How would Esseia feel about an attempt to recruit you for a little adventure?"
People who sought power, in Cassius' experience, sought it at any cost. It hardly got better. It rarely did, in truth, and even then, it tended to take some lessons before it happened.
"You were only the beginning." Cassius agreed, in the end. Not cheerfully, but almost so: Fetch was hardly the first such situation he witnessed. "Assuming you are your client's only agent at play."
It would, Esseia told him, end in tragedy. She did not seem to mind, and he didn't think she did. Whether they prevented it or not, it was none of their business. But Cassius was still curious, and Esseia was hardly disinclined to see what happened.
After all, what better way to know what was happening than to be in the middle of it? What better world to learn more of what the world could show them?
"For all you know, someone else might already be seeking one, or even have found one, for him." Cassius pointed out. He knew it was likely to be unhelpful.
Still, the idea of an adventure... well. Their current plans could wait a little, could they not? And so Cassius leaned back, and considered Fetch, and raised an eyebrow in amusement.
"Give us your best sales pitch," he decreed, "and we might yet join you."
This was exactly what he'd been looking for. A way in. Information. He'd taken the man's money. He hadn't had much choice, but he'd taken it and set off. That didn't mean that his employer had all of his loyalty. Fetch liked to pride himself on being a man who made his own destiny. Sometimes that meant taking someone's money and ruining their plans.
It wouldn't be the first time he'd taken someone's money and left them in a ditch. If their cause proved to be not worth it.
Though he suspected it might not be that it's not worth it. It might just be that it's evil. And that's more of a reason to leave things unfinished. Even if the frayed edges of this particular case tickled at the corners of his mind when he tried to sleep. It was better than making the same mistakes over and over again.
Then again Fetch wasn't sure he was capable of that kind of growth.
He frowned. "Huh..." Fetch supposed he should have expected something like this. Something deeper than just what he'd been presented. "Pretty spry and independent for someone who'd got a demon in him." The flash of color in his eyes, a reminder that Esseia was there, listening. Fetch should shut his mouth.
It was good that he was learning more about the Fallen, he supposed. Before he ruined his own life for some rich fuck who didn't even have the decency to tell him the truth. He ashed his cigarette.
"I think he thinks he can handle it." Which was stupid, of course. "I suppose there's no way of knowing before I'd turn the coin over though, is there?" If the Fallen inside was benevolent. Or evil. Or if it mattered at all. "Personally I'm more concerned about him taking power and doing something wretched with it. As himself or otherwise."
"Indeed." Was Cassius' genuine, amused answer art the remark about how independent he seemed. "I am very fortunate." And it was not a joke, nor was it dismissive. He was a lucky man, and had long made his peace with it, because Esseia could have been any other of the Fallen.
He, came the thought with a familiar cadence, was not just any mortal man. He was hers.
But that, he knew, had come about after so many years, and so many civilizations, and she knew him in the way only she ever could, but he also knew her. Knew her, and cared, and knew that it was as mutual as it could ever be.
"Every single mortal who seeks a coin believes they can handle it. And some of the Fallen respect that." He pointed out. "Some don't. But no, you would not know." He confirmed. "Even if I told you what they are likely to do, they might yet see a man they would rather fully dominate, and do so. Or," he shrugged, "they might like that man."
And let him choose, and lead, and learn.
"But if they like that man, it's not unlikely they would be very in favor of doing something wretched." He added, tone easy. "I would not say they think highly of us, all in all."
Charles sits back in his chair, eyes roaming over the scene in front of him. He wasn't a mutant - no - that much he could tell. But it's also clear to him that this man isn't... well, isn't normal. Not a regular person.
Head tilting slightly to the side, Charles hums softly. "You'd be correct about that. But I'm sure you can imagine not everyone is welcome here. We're all different here - not everyone likes it.. The anonymity of everyone here is important. It's a safety measure." It's not that he thinks this man has bad intentions per se, more that he can't afford to be wrong about it.
Charles lets his mind go, reaching out to hear the other's thoughts to try and make a calculated decision..
"It's not a no, but I am going to require a bit more intel. What all have you heard about this place?" Good place to start, probably. How much does he already know?
Not everyone is welcome there, and Cassius' smile loses a tiny little bit of shine. Not noticeable, not really, but truly enough that it becomes a bit more wry. It's a beautiful place, and one hope he'd held. He also hadn't held it tightly enough to let it settle, not really.
It's also a matter of pragmatism, really, he understands that. And of protection. And he knows that unease, and does not blame Charles.
Esseia, still curious, still not exploring, settles quietly upon his shoulder. And Cassius, mercenary that he is, considers the question and they choose to answer it.
"I have heard it is a place where mutants can learn and be safe." He tells Charles. "I have heard about mutants, if that really is the word in your language." He goes on. "People born with... a difference, with abilities." And then, "I am not one of those." He confirms. "But neither am I... wholly human."
Fetch put his hands up in surrender. She could listen. Fetch didn't particularly like the idea, but he had nothing to threaten or bargain with to change the circumstances they were under. And he was sure that if he forced Esseia to show herself it would end poorly for all of them. But most especially for himself.
He might be the sort to put his face up for punching, but he didn't crave the sweet embrace of death so much as to push someone to be vulnerable. Not when it was currently a very friendly chat.
Or as friendly as it could be, in any case.
At least Fetch was secure in the fact that this wasn't something that was completely unheard of. True he was in deeper than he knew, true he could feel the water creeping up to settle uncomfortably at the base of his neck in a threatening sort of manner. But at least this wasn't a path he was carving for the first time.
He rummaged around in his pockets for his cigarettes and after an okay from the bartender, he fit one between his lips and offered Cassius the box. Rain pounded on the roof. Cars passed on the street in a rush, kicking up dirty water that splashed on the windows, leaving gritty streaks behind. Fetch didn't say anything for a moment, just dragged an ashtray closer and puffed on his cigarette like it might have answers. Or a direction, at least.
It didn't.
"He's got money. Wouldn't be doing this if he didn't. Made his fortune selling shoes or something. I don't know the specifics. I guess he was a bit of a celebrity before he got sick. Socialite type of guy. Frequented casinos and charity events back to back. Not the most morally sound, but who is these days?" Fetch certainly wasn't in any position to judge anybody. "Anyway. He's sick. Seems to think that this is his best hope."
Fetch wasn't even sure he believed it. But he wanted to, and for now that was enough. "As for what I know... Not as much as I'd like to. I know there's-- - What I was told was that the Coins contain spirits. Well he said demons, but..." Fetch blew a plume of smoke skyward. "You don't seem particularly demon-possessed to me."
He took a cigarette, unbothered by the offer nor the smell he'd never gotten used to. Then again, it was far from the first social custom the years had brought up and then would bring down, and something else would take its place. He didn't mind it, and he didn't worry about the effects: Esseia understood the need of manners and socialization, and also the need of keeping his lungs in functioning order.
It had been almost a decade since he'd smoked, but he still remembered how to, and so he thanked Fetch with a nod, and then listened to his story. To this man that sought to avoid death by binding himself to one of the Fallen.
"Spirits and demons, those are words." He said, in the end. Thoughtful, but far from wholly unsmiling, or annoyed. "They have changed their meaning through the ages, and they encompass many creatures. The Fallen, however, are distinct."
And that was their name of preference, at least for now. The furious reminder of a lost war. The Fallen, and the Bound as well.
"Not all those you would consider demons are among the Fallen, and the vast majority are not. But I am, technically, demon-possessed." He chuckled.
And Esseia, contrarian by nature, decided to make herself visible in the pair of cobalt-blue eyes that flashed for a whole second, before they disappeared.
"The Fallen are ancient creatures, with their own preferences about who they bond to. Some are willing to work with us. Some simply take over." He warned Fetch. "Is his very own will something your client is willing to risk?"
"Sometimes those are the same thing." Fetch knew better than to press his luck so far it smacked him in the face. At least sometimes, anyway. They already had a tumultuous relationship after all. Maybe he did know some things. Maybe he was just pulling it all out of his ass. Either way, Fetch knew when to walk the line.
And this one was a dangerous one so he'd better watch his footwork.
Fetch finished his drink. It left a sour film on his tongue. He wasn't sure if it was because the conversation was difficult or if it was because he knew that he was in over his head and that cast an ugly light on everything. He wet his hand on the condensation of his glass and passed it through his hair to tame it some.
Maybe he shouldn't want to meet her. The implication of course would be that he was about to die, he would imagine. At their hands, no less. "I like to know who I'm working with, that's all." She was listening. That was enough.
He was assuming things. Like that they would be working together. Like that was a good thing. Like Cassius and Esseia didn't have better things to do than help his sorry ass do something that he should be able to do all by himself. You're in over your head, Fetch. He knew that much already. Maybe he shouldn't go blabbing. Unfortunately, Fetch has never been good at subtlety.
Scratching at his stubble, Fetch tried to figure out how to word this. "My client's sick. Thinks getting one of these coins might help him out." Fetch knew better than to think that it wouldn't have consequences. Things like this often did.
He trusted them even less if they didn't come with some kind of small print.
"I couldn't afford to say no anyway, not with what he's paying. Might even be able to get a new suit if I meet the deadline."
At least, Fetch thought, this seemed like a pleasant enough conversation. The brass knuckles in his pocket sat heavy and unused. Hopefully for the entire evening.
Everyone liked knowing who they were working with, that was undeniable, and that had been so ever since Cassius had been a young man. He still believed himself young, in some way, for all that often enough he didn't entirely feel the part. It came with having lived for as many years, for having witnessed so much.
It came, Esseia said in his mind, a quiet whisper he had long grown fond of, from being no longer merely human.
"We understand that." He settled for, regarding Fetch for a long moment. "She still prefers to listen. At least for now. So many believe they are ready to meet her, and then the conversation devolves into uselessness."
And she was not commanded by mortals, nor their manners. He would never ask that of her. He still had the faint feeling that if he ever asked, that if it ever really mattered to him, she would show herself.
Alas, someone looking for a coin... well, that was always a concerning situation. Not one he was about to judge, for all it might require involving other people. Other Fallen and their Bearers.
"I see, Mr. Phillips. That one is not an unusual request, in a way." And then, considering it, taking a sip from the drink he'd ordered, he spoke again. "Tell us about your client, in this case. And tell us, before we go much further, what you know about the Coins."
I think it's a very important point, in the context of the Dresdenverse, that Esseia goes by that name. That she has chosen to leave behind a part of her name, a name that encompassed her as one of the Fallen, to morph the rest into 'Esseia'. It was a deliberate choice.
It's also a relatively recent choice: It took almost a millennia for her to allow Cassius to use any sort of nickname with her, and about five hundred years after that for her to settle on a new name. To decide she had changed enough that the old one didn't fit any longer.
Names have power, in the Dresdenverse, and even more so for those like Esseia. And while she's still a creature of Corruption, forever doomed to be what she is... it says much about their dynamic that Cassius still has faith in humanity, and that Esseia has witnessed him be weak many times, especially in latter centuries, and she has not taken advantage of it, supporting him instead.
It says a lot that the bond between them does go both ways, insofar as Esseia can allow it to go: Cassius has a direct line to her feelings, and to as much of her thoughts as she can show without harming him.
When he's informed that there is someone waiting to speak to him, Charles gives a nod. Homework is assigned and when every student has left the room, he heads towards his study where he's been told the stranger was waiting.
The professor moves to where the man is seated first, holding a hand out. "Good afternoon. I'm Charles Xavier. Welcome to my school for the gifted. What may I call you?" He will figure out more as they go. No need to go digging yet.
While Charles has never exactly hesitated to use his gifts when necessary, he tries not to do it too much. For privacy reasons - and to gain trust. After all, trust goes both ways.
He rises from his seat, where he'd been leaning back and watching the room, and the grounds, and mostly observing the architecture: he can make some guesses about it, and it's something that he's always found interesting but never had the time to research properly.
Alas, the architecture is not at all what brought him to this mansion, but the people within, and especially the man before him: Cassius shakes his hand with ease -hand slightly colder than those of most people- and a fond smile, even as he feels Esseia's caution in his mind, merely whispers of emotion through their bond.
"My name is Cassius." Is his answer. He does not try to fake an accent, lets himself be himself, even as Esseia manifests on his shoulder, taken the form of a crow that is only a shade not fully corporeal, the edges of her form blurring in almost-smoke.
"Cassius Agorix." He goes on, completely unperturbed by this. "And this Esseia." He introduces her. She merely watches Charles, all in all, and so Cassius continues. "We come from afar, and we had heard... rumors, though well-founded ones, of a place for those who are... unlike most people."
It's not the best explanation, and he lacks the layers upon layers of adjectives of his mother tongue to be as precise as he'd wish.
"A safe haven of sorts."
@bettertelepath liked for a starter!
He does not enter the mansion uninvited. He does not go under the cover of the night, and he does not bring threats with him. He simply waits, comfortably enough, as he approaches the mansion step by step. Even waves once, when someone else looks at him.
Cassius is not a mutant, and neither is Esseia. But she is not human at all, and Cassius is only half human, and maybe the rumors are true, and the mercenary still learning his way around humans might be able to find answers there.
Or perhaps something approaching community, for all he doubts he can stay anywhere for long, these days. He simply loves wandering far too much.
