“Gotta say, I never understood why bats and black cats are considered spooky around Halloween. Has anyone taken a proper look at them? Ones a flying ball of fur and the other is a ball of fur with tiny knives-” The familiar then realized he was rambling. It was a trait of his when he wasn’t sure what to say, not to mention the fact Halloween was a subject that still baffled him in many ways. “Either way, I’m enjoying the energy in the city at the moment, even with the strange depiction of what I’d consider cute animals.”
“Because they don’t care about authenticity. The whole farse of a holiday, and calling it that is a real stretch, is just dumb and weird.. I’ve never understood why its so important to celebrate.” Devon replied, never for a lack of honesty when given the chance. He really didn’t like Halloween and was relieved that so far no one had insisted he attend this costume party he’d heard rumors about coming up. What was worse than the decorations was the silly and tacky costumes.. “Glad someone’s enjoying it. People being excited for nothing and all. Its just not my cup of tea.”
It wasn’t exactly common for Auggie to seek other people out, even for something as casual as a walk back to his cell. But company was sometimes craved for Auggie– especially when he so often kept to himself in a desperate attempt to guard himself. He took in a deep breath and nodded his head, “If you don’t mind– I mean… I can leave you alone too– I get it. They can be…” He looked over his shoulder to look at the others with a shrug, “Overwhelming.”
Devon was and had spent a lot of time being solitary during his years here. It simply had to do with self preservation. Caring too much was dangerous when the people around you either wanted to use you for their own selfish reasons, or were breakable and disposable much like you yourself were. But he’d always vowed to treat other slaves with respect and decency as long as they were treating him well too. “I don’t mind.” he assured, giving the other a light smile. “Yeah, they’re assholes. Intense fuckers.” he agreed, though unlike the other he did not hold back. Falling in step with the other, Dev prompted polite conversation. “So how long have you been here?”
The noise of the place was something Auggie wasn’t overly fond of. Though it was muffled, there was far too much speech around him. It all came together in a buzz with the slave desperately seeking around, reading lips in the hope that he could somehow pull it all together. He had been fetching drinks for the person who had rented him all night when he was essentially dismissed. He wasn’t sure he knew his way back so he’d stopped someone he recognized as a fellow slave. He caught sight of his lips, doing his best to read what he was saying and luckily seemed to catch it all. “I was… I was just wondering if you were going back.”
Without drinks, attention or even the faintest interest from a renter, Devon didn’t feel as if he was obligated to stay put like some obedient mindless drone. Of course, he knew he could get in trouble for leaving. The master could hunt him down and punish him, or complain to the guards and then they would happily do it for him. But this wouldn’t be the first time he would take such a risk and not really fear the consequences. His time in this city had been spent breaking a lot of rules and paying the price, though his scull was thick, his pride intact and his stubborn nature undying. Noticing the others collar and finding the guy vaguely familiar, Dev changed his tune. He had nothing against fellow slaves. “Yeah, I am. You wanna walk together?”
An involuntary growl rumbled through Austin, at Devon’s retort. He was just going to ask him a simple question, which the werewolf now even forgot what question that was. “Well, excuse me,” he snapped, tightening his hold on his wrist. “I’m not here to tug at you..” He paused, the innuendo of his words hitting, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. “If anything, you should be doing the tugging. But, that’s besides the point. What are you doing, anyways? Aren’t you here with someone?”
Running his free hand trough his long, dirty blonde locks, Devon didn’t even try to mask the tiredness in his expression. He was so done hanging around to babysit a master that clearly didn’t care if he was around or not, but apparently getting out of this hell hole was going to prove difficult. Knowing better than to try to get free from Austin’s grasp, Devon stepped closer, arching an eyebrow. “Really? Then what are you here for?” he inquired with the faintest teasing tone, a shadow of a smile showing for a short moment. “Maybe so.. What does it look like I’m doing? I’m trying to leave. My creepy sex club quota is all used up and I’m tired of watching the shithead who rented me drink himself into a stupor. I don’t babysit when there’s nothing in it for me.” Tilting his head in question, he added: “Are you going to tell on me?”
It was rare for Kain to visit Voyeur but somehow he had stumbled into the club tonight, sitting at the bar and drinking a beer. He was watching the scene before him with a mild curiousity, noticing some of the people he knew. He recognized a superior who had rented a human, something that he would never quite understand as he loathed their kind. Later in the evening, he noticed the same human make his way towards the exit, and he frowned and got up to question him, pretty sure that he hadn’t been given permission to leave. “Actually, that’s exactly what you are,” the dragon said, looking at him with disapproval and disgust. “However, it looks like you’re someone else’s toy tonight.” He gestured over to the drunk guy in the corner.
Devon disliked clubs in general, as they were loud, packed and played the shittiest music he could think of. This place though he hated even more, knowing the owner was a nutty bitch from hell and the queen of the succubi slinking all around. Their ability to force physical reactions and imagined desire was more than a little annoying and something he’d experienced one too many times. They never took no for an answer, but worse yet, they could fuck with your head to make you think agreeing was your idea. Taking in the sight of the fellow blonde before him, the human sighed a bit under his breath. “Nope, not a possession, a guy with brain and emotions, not that any of you care..” he found it easy to ignore the others dislike. Mostly because it meant he was more likely to be left in peace. “He’s too drunk to notice or care, which means my shift is over. What are you? The rental police?” It was odd that this one cared enough to step in.
Charlie was once again alone. Like she always ended up being. She’d been stupid and let herself have a moment of weakness, to let herself let her walls down long enough to get close to someone else and look–they were gone. Relocated and gone and again she was alone. And to make matters worse the guards decided she needed to get thrown into a new cell, with a whole new roommate and she hated every single second of it. So much so she was still seething an hour later, angry tears hot against her skin that roughly scrubbed away every time one dared to fall. When the door to the cell was being opened she cleared her throat and shifted on the spot, scrubbing at her face again and erasing any sign of her emotions as she got up and moved to the window. “This isn’t a home, asshole.”
Devon had been trough his fair chair of roommates since arriving in the city. Some were scared, some were angry, and some like him, were rebellious. Most could either take a joke, or show compassion. And then there were the ones who seemed consumed with their own emotions, to the point where they hated the whole world. He’d been there too, especially during his first few years. But his new roomie seemed to be locked in that state twenty four seven. Which also made her look utterly exhausted when she wasn’t shooting daggers at you. Then again, he knew better than to offer help. And right at this moment, he had his own wounds to tend to. Sighing a bit, he pushed himself slowly to his knees, fighting the urge to sound out the pain shooting trough his body each time he moved a muscle. Then he somehow managed to get from there and over to his cot, unable to not let out a low groan of pain as he sat down. “Its the only home any of us will ever get sulky.” he retorted, leaning his head back against the wall, trying to ignore the rest of his injuries.
Evie’s grin just grew at his response and she hummed, moving to pluck the cigarette out from his hands to take a long drag from it. “I could say the exact same.” she blew out the smoke before passing the cigarette back, the filter now rimmed red from her lipstick. “You could even say I’m bored.” Evie pouted as she said it, and as she did her eyes flashed violet for a second, her hand moving to gently brush along his leg as she said it. “You wouldn’t have any ideas of what a girl like me could do for fun, would you?”
Devon tilted his head, studying her face as she enjoyed his smoke, looking sexy and once again thrice as daring. “Sorry to hear that.” he said, noticing the lip stain on the filter but not averse to it so he took another drag for himself. While the pout alone had him thinking unsavory things, her flashing eyes and touch naturally spurned it further, as he stared back at her. For once though he didn’t mind the attention or the inclination to act on desire. Maybe being used would end up being an advantage for once. “I’d say the key thing would probably be to find someone to have fun with.”
Gen usually had trouble differentiating species from one another, but it was easy to tell when someone was human–they just felt….blank. No powers under the surface (even if muted by collars). She felt a bit more relaxed around them, since they couldn’t exactly do anything to her like other species could. And as he spoke and borderline apologized she sighed, shaking her head. “You didn’t. I…it’s fine. Thanks. And..thanks for not staring as I accidentally sent my notebook up in flames.”
Devon usually expected someone’s abilities to present themselves, or for them to simply tell him what they were. A lot of supernaturals liked to brag, which meant they’d put emphasis on their strengths, talk about their victories and so on, giving him some insight into what they were and what they valued. Witches out of all of them usually struck him as the most mellow species. They didn’t seem to have too big egos and since they were the closest species to human, they also didn’t seem to resent his kind as much. Which was a small relief. It was hard to have a normal conversation with anyone when they all wanted to make sure you knew what fuck ups your species were and how much they loathed you for being one, without knowing you in the slightest. “Yeah? Thats good. You’re welcome. I wouldn’t want an audience if I was trying to do something challenging either. I suppose most were just taken off guard though. Its not an every day sight.”
The demon rolled her eyes at the male, waggling a finger at the human, only pressing her foot “Evidently you’re not learning and you’re not done, otherwise you’d keep your mouth shut” she then began to change her eyes, turning them a deep purple and focusing her energy on him- happy to turn on the energy and work him up “Don’t say that I didn’t warn you” he purred, keeping herself perched and keeping him held down. He wasn’t going anywhere until she was satisfied he was suffering enough. “What is it about humans just not being at all that bright?”
It was an internal struggle for the most part, between pride and logic. Because logic told him to shut his mouth and try to simply endure without prolonging the experience. While his pride told him to hit her back with anything he had. Which at this point was only words. Pressing his lips together, directing his stare to the tacky floor, he let her drone on. Though he could feel his body respond to her powers, forcing his muscles to clench and his jaw to set. Though unlike before when goaded and prompted, he kept his mouth shut. At this point he would do damn near anything to get the fuck out of here.
While Evie wasn’t usually one to spend her money and keep a slave for a night, but some were just oh so pretty that she couldn’t help but make exceptions every now and then. So that night as she walked through the streets enjoying the Halloween decorations, she spotted one. She was ‘dressed’ in a mini dress that barely hit her thighs, one that was cute, soft, almost making her look innocent with the soft color and little floral print—a complete juxtaposition from the glint in her eyes as she moved to where he was sitting on a bench outside of what was probably his job. “Had a long day, handsome?”
Perched on a bench outside the tattoo shop, smoke in hand, Devon was feeling a little too restless to return to the cells where all he would be able to do was either lie down on his cot or loose a few more braincells by engaging in another stupid fight with the guards, most of which would love to give him a proper beating. Going to bed too early wasn’t really something he managed, so more than a handful of times he ended up on this bench, watching the nightlife move by, reminiscing a bit back to a time when he had been the one flying from pub to pub. Felt like a lifetime ago. The redhead coming to sit beside him was a curious development to an otherwise bland day. “Long but uneventful at that Miss Red.” he said, giving her a fleeting smile. Her clothing didn’t quite match the shine in her eyes. Both of which made him curious. “How about you beautiful?”
Gen was already annoyed at being stared at by one person, but when a voice to the side suddenly spoke up she blinked over, narrowing her eyes just a bit, her lips pursing slightly in annoyance. She could handle it…. Just the same though, the person watching her huffed and walked off and Gen watched them leave with a sigh before she turned back to the man who’d spoke. “You didn’t have to do that.”
Devon suspected he could have kept his mouth shut, and the witch would have been just fine on her own. Yet he couldn’t stand when other people didn’t take hints. She’d been telling the other to piss off and had gotten no reaction.. He simply thought adding to her sentiment couldn’t hurt. Meeting her gaze he lifted his shoulders in a small shrug. “Just thought I’d chime in. Didn’t mean to overstep.” he replied calmly, hoping she wouldn’t take offense. Yet at the same time, he was prepared for it. Superiors tended to dislike any traitor butting in where they weren’t wanted.
He had done all he could to avoid that one particular guard coming back from the dining hall. Most of them didn’t like him much, but this one was really fed up and seemed to truly hate him. Of course when he rounded the corner the asshole was there with a few other guards, ones Devon knew to be his friends. “That shithead.” the guard said the moment his eyes clapped on Devon. “And what does that make you? A little bitch?” Dev couldn’t help himself, so of course he shot back. The guard only skipped one beat before he charged at the blonde, running him right into the ground and punching him, several times. When Devon started to kick and punch back though, the guys friends came over. First they held Devon, allowing their friend to get a couple of really good punches in, leaving the human feeling dizzy and struggling to see clearly with his right eye for a bit. By the time his sight recovered just a little, he noticed he was being dragged towards his cell. “Fucking morons.” He grunted, not surprised as they tossed him into the cell. Glancing over at his new roommate, Dev sent her an apologetic look, which was though quickly followed by a shit eating grin. “Bringing home the crazy.” he joked to her.
“I’ve been called far more intelligent things…” Theo sighed, another dull human it seemed. How they seemed to be on the rise in the city. They’d become almost like chicken to her, a meat that she was growing tired of- especially with so much on offer in the city. “Are you done? I zoned out of your little speech” She said as she took out her compact mirror and began to touch up her lipstick. “You know full well not to disturb me” she then said to the intruder, one of her staff who quickly began to leave at the demons warning. “Now you-” she then said to the male, using her strength to only crush him harder against the floor. “I told you that I didn’t have to touch you in the way you’re expecting me to, to get what I need…No no with this contact, I can work you up so easily” she mused, her eyes changing to purple, using her influence to turn up his arousal. She wanted him uncomfortable.
“Yes well, if you wanted a clever conversationalist, I’m sorry to disappoint.” his sarcasm made it very clear he wasn’t at all sorry, not for anything. It really was beyond him why creatures like her felt they needed to repeatedly show their strength with his kind. As if there was a need to constantly prove that as far as powers went, they were the superior one. Devon honestly didn’t care either way, he just was tired sometimes of being used, not to mention treated like a damn rag doll for their amusement. “Yeah, I’m done.” Dev said, his voce deep and just a little bit tired. The retreating footsteps did not bode well for him, a point she proved to be right mere seconds later. He bit back a scream, wondering if she would crush his ribcage, cause it sure felt like she was at this rate. Just like that though, he could feel heat rush trough his body and specifically down between his legs, making him involuntarily hard, warm and itchy. “Fuck you..” he muttered underneath his breath, unable to get free from her, though squirming regardless.
It wasn’t too often a renter managed to get themselves drunk enough to be more interested in food than sex. But for once Devon would say, he had been in luck. The one who had rented him was almost passed at a corner table at Voyeur and he was free to move about. For the first forty minutes it was fine, but then he got bored, and all he wanted to do was bail. He was heading towards the door, when someone took ahead of his wrist, turning him around. “What now?” he asked in an annoyed tone, arching an eyebrow. “I’m not some walking toy for you to tug at whenever you please you know.”
With the afternoon off from work, Gen was in the park, sitting under a tree and surrounded by a spell book and some artifacts, murmuring to herself as she tried to memorize an incantation. She’d been working for months now to try and teach herself all the ways of witchcraft she’d never grown up knowing, trying to speed it all up to make up for lost time. But sometimes cutting corners didn’t always work out–like now. Not memorizing a certain spell properly, Gen said a word wrong and instead of shapeshifting her sketchbook it burst into flames and she yelped, using her powers to quickly try and extinguish the flames before everything caught on fire around her.
Managing to subdue everything before the flames reached the grass she sighed, looking at her now-charred sketchpad. All the while she felt eyes on her and she glanced up, clearly annoyed as she ran her hand raggedly through her hair, “The show’s over.”
Devon was sprawled on the grass, watching the clouds as they passed by. When he was almost alone like this, feeling the woods close by and the cold grass and dirt beneath him, he could almost imagine he was someplace else. Like on the grass at home, having his daughter next to him, laughing at odd shaped clouds and trying to gauge new shapes in each one floating above their heads. Hearing a small commotion, he glanced over at a girl who was seated not too far away. She seemed to have set fire to something. For a moment Dev watched, wondering if he should help, but then he turned his gaze back to the clouds. Despite not watching, he could hear her trying to annoyingly tell someone to bug off. Turning over on his stomach, he eyed the person in question as they didn’t seem to listen. “You heard her. Scram.”
“Please, you say sociopath like it’s a bad thing?” Theodora purred seductively to her victim, giving a low chuckle as she relaxed herself back in the spot that she’d perched herself in, keeping the poor human she’d caught pinned to the floor beneath her designer stiletto. The red head grinned when she noted someone new before her. “Hm. Now, tell Mommy why you’ve come and interrupted her in such a pivotal moment of discipline?” she pouted, pressing her foot down to make the human squeal out in pain.
“Would you prefer crazy bitch instead?” Devon shot back. To say that he liked the taste of floor, would be a gross lie. Then again he hadn’t had his brightest moment, calling the succubi queen a sociopath and thinking he would get away with it. He just detested how she could rile him up on her own accord, without his own instinct and bodily reactions having much, if at all, anything to do with it. As someone came in to speak with her, he figured he might get just a small reprieve. However the feeling of her heel pressing deep into his back warranted a loud groan. “Won’t you tell her she has better things to do than toying with me huh? You know they say redheads have all the fun but the truth is, they’re often the ones with more than one screw loose.” he spoke to the person before them, just managing to use his hand to push his long blonde locks out of his face to stare up at the other. It was unlikely that she would stop her torture, but maybe being interrupted would give her another outlet so she’d calm down just a little? Regardless, he wasn’t taking shit back just to avoid some pain at her hands.
DEVON TELLER is a 41 year old PANSEXUAL, MALE, HE/HIM, here in Firebrand City. People say they look a lot like CHARLIE HUNNAM. They are CLEVER but can be FEISTY. They are a HUMAN SLAVE in Firebrand and they work at THE FRONT DESK AT THE BLACK DAHLIA TATTOO STUDIO.
about ;
most of his life, devon has been considered a criminal
at first he became one out of necissity, caring for his alcoholic mother who couldn’t hold down a job, forcing him to steal and con in order to have food in his mouth and pay the essential bills.
his father left his mom when he was seven years old and never came back, leaving his mom to struggle to cope as a single parent with a broken heart. she had loved his father very deeply and thought they would get married right before he left her.
dev was a rebellious and angry kid who detested authority. so despite being clever and a quick learner, he didn’t really learn a lot in school.
the only teacher and adult who really saw him and was able to get trough to him was his art teacher, who praised and nurtured his talent once she discovered how good he was with a pencil.
as a teen he spent most of his years with a local gang who offered protection to small time buisness owners and held illegal cage fights.
it didn’t take long before he was signing up to be a fighter himself, spending his winnings on women and drinks.
as he grew older he only knew he was good for two things, drawing art and running cons or stealing from others. his first illegal stunt as an adult was skimming money from his employer. his second was dealing drugs.
he had a knack for finding himself in toxic relationships with women who loved him much more than he found himself capable of loving them. most reminded him too much of his mother for him to fully find himself able to give them his heart.
when Dev was nineteen a girl he was hooking up with lied about using birth control and she got pregnant. they had a baby girl 9 months later and both teniously tried to work together to be half decent parents.
four years in though Devon got sole custody of his daughter as he had managed to clean himself up, finding and keeping his job as a tattoo artist at a popular studio, minimizing his drinking and staying home to care for his kid rather than being out all night.
when his mother got liver cancer Dev was desperate to get her treatment. they had no money, and so he gambled and lent money to pay for her doctors appointments.
despite his efforts though, his mother died right before the war, succumbing to her illness.
as the war came around right after her passing Devon didn’t fight, rather held a low profile and hid as well as he could. he was devastated loosing his mother, yet he couldn’t loose his wits amidst the chaos. after all he had his daughter to look after.
given that he’d had to lend money for his mothers treatment, he was at this point in a serious amount of debt to a wealthy vampire, unable to pay him back.
At first he made an arrangement with the vampire. He and his daughter would be his prisoners to avoid capture and immediate enslavement. This went on for about five years before the vampire bored of him and decided that he wanted the money more than he wanted a human bloodbag at home. Thus he decided to sell Devon to Firebrand city.
A few months before Devon was sold, he had managed to find shelter for his daughter with a kind witch who agreed to take her in and protect her, vowing to hide her from discovery and give her as normal a life as possible.
Little did he know that visiting her on a normal Sunday would be the last time they saw each other before he was taken away.
Once enslaved in the city, Devon proved to be a rather uncooperating slave, too rebellious and proud to offer himself willingly when rented, with a big mouth and an excess of anger over his current predicament.
He missed his little girl terribly and while he was angry he also did what he could to gather any information about her. he worried that she would be captured as well.
he’s calmed down a little after almost five years in the city, but he is still reluctant at best. however, he’s given in some, deciding to play along in most cases, unless he feels as if he’s being treated poorly or purposefully humiliated.
Dev keeps a close eye on the slaves that come in, knowing his daughter could wind up in the city if she’s captured.
he’s often hard to get to know unless you’re another slave, finding it hard not to be sarcastic and stoic, unwilling to give too much away to someone who can easily use it against him.
when he does come across someone he likes, he tends to be fairly caring and loyal, but you have to earn his trust to get to see this side of him.
working at the tattoo shop in town has saved him from countless hours of boredom. He doesn’t love it, as he would much rather be tattooing(which he has done professionally for over a decade) but he’s found that a lot of customers like his work and will happily give a nice tip for a good design. also he can draw as much as he likes when its quiet in the shop.
his biggest vice is cigarettes, and he’ll sometimes go the extra mile to obtain one or five to smoke when not confined to the gutters.
