@sidestriker continued from x.
"HM, HOW VERY AGREEABLE of you."
the owl prince replied in a goading drawl as he stepped through and closed the portal behind his billowing cloak with a whoosh, idly contemplating his glossy talons, grimoire hovering by his shoulder like a familiar and echoing with the pulse of his infernal magic; the limits of the true power of a goetic demon were nigh unknown, however stolas was wise enough to use it sparingly - and, in this case, to make a point, as striker had also stalked and caught him by surprise without warning.
(how delightfully rude ! he was lucky the dark prince had a soft spot for rebels.)
"oh-- is it really fair of you to talk about trusting me, considering it is I who was in bound in pretty ropes and on the other side of the barrel of your gun, the last time we were in the same room?"
the demon prince tittered in graceful hoots behind his taloned hand, sauntering in slow circles around the other, as if he found the irony of the situation terribly amusing; still, he was not there to antagonise, not necessarily. his prowling finally came to a halt when he swept his regal star-studded cape to the side, as the heat of the hideout was starting to get to him, and splayed a taloned hand across his buttoned chest, his other placed on the sinuous dell of his slender waist, as if to dramatically declare his intents in an earnest speech.
"--you know, I never meant any harm to you, and yet you have gone to great lengths and taken a large sum to assassinate me."
he paused for effect, pouting and heaving a purposely forlorn sigh as he cast his four-eyed gaze on the cowboy imp, glossing over the other's overt hostility and, of course, the gun permanently levelled at him; the expression on his strigine features an exquisite study in affable self-immolation, whilst his eyes scanned every detail with predatory precision.
(as a precaution, of course !)
"it still hurts, you know. I feel like we've gotten off on the wrong foot. I would beg you to consider this as you hear me out: as far as moral compass goes, we are more alike than you might think."
his tone was low and honeyed, dangerous yet alluring - the flash of a blade beneath a sheath of silk; the darker the scowl on striker's face, the wider the smile that pulled the avian's beak.
"you are ... exceptionally skilled, I'm sure you know. nobody has ever managed to do to me what you did - your talent is shockingly wasted. so I will cut to the chase - wouldn't you rather take my money and my generous patronage, than my ex-wife's ? I could help you unlock your full potential, if you will allow me. "
