PSL; [YOU MAY BURY MY BODY]

[makimavellian]

( me and the devil walkin' side by side )

Comments

[spellbent]

[ His eyebrows go up. He’s not entirely sure why he didn’t suspect that the highest of the higher ups were involved in the whole Devil business, especially if the whole thing is public knowledge. If magic were the same, he imagines there would be plenty of politicians willing to leverage any amount of magical muscle for their own gain, couched in some nebulous greater good. ]

I see. Well, I don’t tend to do a lot of business that requires paperwork, so consider yourself retired from bureaucracy. But on the subject of your appearance, your eyes might pose a bit of an issue.

[makimavellian]

Will they? I suppose I can’t just say they’re colored contacts, can I?

[Tricky, tricky, existing in a world where strange and supernatural things must be kept on the downlow. This will take some getting used to, but thankfully she won’t exactly be doing it alone.]

I can’t do anything about my eyes. You don’t have any magic in this world that can make them look more… normal?

[spellbent]

You could for now, I suppose.

[ It won't hurt in the short term, probably, but he would like it taken care of sooner rather than later. To that end, he fishes his phone out of his pocket. ]

We do. I have someone I can call.

If there's anything else you require to help get you settled, let me know.

[makimavellian]

[Ah, Warren's resources to the rescue.]

Thank you. Since you've offered, I think I'm going to need some clothes eventually. My own clothes. Not whoever these belonged to!

[spellbent]

Clothes, identification, and the like are already on the list.

[ How many times will Ramey's characters have to establish Jen's in a new reality place your bets. ]

Anything else?

[makimavellian]

[Yeah but that's because THE BOYFRIENDS ARE GROSS and this is because of two bad people doing bad things. Variety!]

Hmm. You spoil a girl. Let me think...

[A beat.]

Maybe just some time to explore my new home. And I don't mean your house. New York, in general. [One more considering pause.] Barring that, I can think of one more thing, but it might be... messy. Maybe you'd rather wait for me to get properly settled first.

[spellbent]

That's fine by me. You're a grown woman— [ Or whatever the equivalent is for a Devil-slash-Horseman. ] —I see no reason to babysit you.

[ One eyebrow lifts, and his gaze flicks to the massive windows overlooking the back yard and the beach beyond. "Messy" is clearly not an issue for him. ]

And what might that one more thing be?

[makimavellian]

[Noted. No need for babysitting. A bit of independence, just for her. Better than government work already.

But maybe she means "messy" in a way that needs to be cleaned up in less, ah, orthodox means.]

Well, let me ask you this first: How easy is it to kill a demon native to this world?

[spellbent]

Depends on the demon, but even the lesser ones are... tricky. The hellfire they wield cuts through most magic.

[ Must, but not all. ]

Why?

[makimavellian]

I see.

[Tricky is right. She sighs and brings her hair over her shoulder, begins to braid it just to kill time while they consider this, talking.]

I don't know how demons work, really, in this world. But Devils have the ability to grow more powerful, and in some cases, steal the power, of other Devils they consume. Since one of our goals is for me to regain what I've lost, this might be an easy way to achieve it. On top of making people fear me over time.

[Yes, she is suggesting they kill and let her eat a demon. If it's feasible.]

[spellbent]

Hm.

[ He pauses to consider this. She didn’t seem to wield, nor did she mention, any hellfire of her own. Having something like that at his beck and call would be an advantage few wizards could boast. ]

Tricky doesn’t necessarily equate to impossible. I think the pros would outweigh the cons, in this case. Besides, we won’t know how your abilities are able to affect a demon from this world if we don’t try.

[makimavellian]

No, we don’t. And we won’t know until we try.

[He sounds on board with trying, at least. Which is all that Makima is interested in. If it doesn’t work, well, then they know for future reference.

And they have a bit of fun in the interim.]

I’m willing if you are. One more test of my limitations for me.

[spellbent]

It’s better we figure out your limits, anyway.

[ You know, before the whole wizarding world discovers that he’s made a pact with a demon– Devil, whatever. ]

First, we get you settled, then we find a demon for you to potentially eat. Anything else?

[makimavellian]

[Start lowkey first. As "lowkey" as it is to look for a demon to eat right off the bat...]

No. I think that's enough to cover everything for now. I'll trust that you'll know where to look where demons are concerned. Then we can discuss our approach after.

[spellbent]

I'll start looking. I'd prefer not to call forth a denizen of hell into my house, anyway. Present company excluded.

[ He seems mildly amused by that, but then it's back to business-- ]

It's a bit late now, but if you want to trek back to the city tomorrow, I can just leave you with my credit card and turn you loose.

[makimavellian]

[She smiles, and it reaches her eyes. She seems to be amused by both the denizen of hell comment and being "turned loose" somewhere.]

With your credit card? But you don't know how many bags of clothes and accessories I'll come back with.

[That's a yes, she would love to.]

[spellbent]

[ His gaze drifts rather deliberately around the room, the sheer size of it and the furniture and the huge windows overlooking the ocean just beyond the backyard, before finally landing on her. ]

If you manage to out-spend my credit card limit, I'll be very surprised.

[makimavellian]

[Okay, Mr. Hotshot. (He does have a point, though.)

Besides, Makima isn't really a materialistic person. Her closet space in Japan was itty bitty and not very impressive, and yet it was still more than enough. Just a few outfits is all she'll need, she thinks.

She's more invested in the dogs she'll bring back, instead--]

Fair point. Don't worry, I'm just joking, anyway. I'm a simple girl, really.

[is she really]

In that case, all that's left is officially picking a room for myself, and I'll retire for the night. I can manage that on my own, of course.

[spellbent]

Of course. You have free reign of the house for whatever you might need. Including the basement.

[ The basement that he did not show her. ]

[makimavellian]

[Ah, yes. The ever-mysterious basement that she didn't get to see.]

Oh? And what's in the basement? Something special...?

[spellbent]

[ He arches an eyebrow at her, and without any explanation, rises from his chair to lead her across the living room. With a wave of his hand, a section of the wall melts away - illusory magic - to reveal a doorway leading to some stairs, which in turn lead down, down into the basement. It's dark down there. ]

Be my guest.

[makimavellian]

[She follows, because of course she wants to know! And when the illusory magic melts way to reveal a set of stairs that leads downwards into darkness…

Oh, it feels ominous. Like a hidden-away secret in a mystery. Or a horror. Maybe both, with this man!

How exciting.]

Ooh. [Almost sing-song, this is actually pretty amusing?] Now what are you hiding away, Warren…

[GOING DOWN THE STEPS!! WOOHOO. How dark is it down here, exactly?]

[spellbent]

Plenty of things.

[ Said mildly. He follows her into the darkness - which is indeed quite dark until Warren finds the lightswitch set into the wall at the bottom of the stairs. Cold and unwelcoming fluorescent bulbs hum to life to reveal...

Yeah, it's a dungeon. And not the sexy kind, either. Everything is bare concrete, with a short row of cells built into one wall. There are some other things around. Tables, chairs. The concrete is concerningly darkened in some places. But perhaps it isn't too far of a stretch to consider that a man with Warren's... talents would engage in a bit of torture now and then. ]

[makimavellian]

[When the lights flicker on with a sterile buzz, Makima blinks, taking in the sight. This sure is a dungeon. It's cold and unwelcoming and she has a feeling she knows what those darkened stains in the concrete used to be...]

Well. Maybe I should be glad you never intended to take me down here.

[She's just going to check out one of the tables, even if there's not much to see at the moment.]

Is this basement reserved for some of the more... stubborn people you run into?

lordt what happened to my html

[spellbent]

More or less.

[ Some of those table are for sitting at. Some of them sure aren't, and come with their own collection of concerning stains. Just how many bodies have been eaten by Warren's back yard? ]

I'm more of a fan of cooperation, when I can get it. When I can't, well. I can be quite persuasive.