Late nights

        ( –even if they had provoked him )

        “I know exactly who I am, sweetheart. It’s why I can talk to ya like that without an ounce of hesitation.” Mikah dips their chin a bit, looking up at the stranger through dark lashes, “—and no, I don’t have a deathwish. I can see how you’d assume that I have one though.”

“And who exactly are you, cupcake?” He asked, caging the other against the wall between his arms. “And why do I feel so sick when i look at you? What did you do to me?” As the fallen angel spoke his face began heating up once more.

A smile came to his face, though not gentle, more akin to a smirk. “What are you, a coward? While messing with those weaker to you may be fun, it’s way too easy, don’t you think a challenge will bring out the excitement you’re probably seeking?” Alec defied the other, almost as if the annoyance he felt by the lingering touch spoke for him. “If you want, sure bring a drunkard, we can trip him, break his nose and take the coins he’s got left to visit another bar.”

“All in all, I am slightly offended that you would suggest something like that.” While it sounded more like joking, he did mean it, his magic was not to be used on anybody! It was art! Of the finest! A drunkard would not appreciate it, nor would Alec get anything good from it anyways. “If you want to back away, however, I can put this deck away, bring out the normal one and go back to guessing your card, maybe even guess the drunkard’s, mm?” Almost as if making fun of Emillio, the sorcerer’s eyes locked onto his.

Emillio liked the way Alec thought.

“My dear friend you speak as if you know my deepest desires,” He replied in a sultry tone. “I for one was afraid that you were not up to such a challenge. Who am i to say where your skills lie. I just thought torturing lesser beings was common among mortals.”

His eyes never fell from the magicians gaze, he held them at every step, and even gave a tiny wink at the end of his statement. 

          They giggled as he recoiled and began wiping at his lips, as if they had done something to him with the kiss. Mikah watched as his cheeks lit up and grew red, reflecting his possible embarrassment. They’d accuse him of overreacting and being dramatic but how else was one supposed to react when kissed by a stranger? They didn’t expect him to be calm about it, not his temperament, but goodness it wasn’t as if they meant to kill him with the little action.

        “Are ya gonna be alright, handsome?” they ask as their head lolls to the side, “—or are ya gonna swear some more at me?”

        “I asked ya t’apologize but y’didn’t soooo I took my apology. It only seemed fair since you decided t’surprise me with your rudeness and didn’t seem all that… apologetic about it.” That explanation probably wouldn’t help… but hey, they could at least say that they tried, “If it makes ya feel any better… your lips a pretty soft.”

         Okay now that was on purpose. That was meant to piss him off.

           “You wouldn’t be against another kiss, would ya?”

Handsome. Your lips are soft. Sweetheart. Wouldn’t be against another kiss, would ya? 

These words echoed in his mind until they made him sick. This... Person had basically just assaulted him and if he was being honest with himself.... He wouldn’t mind having another kiss. But he had to protect his image, it was his everything.

He lunged forward, smashing the other against a wall, though his face showed more confusion than anger. He looked the stranger up and down one more time.

“That’s certainly alright, Genji. Truth be told, I don’t always find such things easy either.”

Her admission was made in hopes it would help this Genji fellow feel more at ease. It was true though, they both already shared that in common. She couldn’t help but smile a little at his referring to his supervisors as ‘overlords’.

"Well Josepha, first of all it's wonderful to make your acquaintance." It was obvious that this dialogue was scripted. "And I would love to tell you about my experience working here,"

With a smile he exited his place behind the table where he stood and pulled out two chairs for the both of them to sit on.

                    Flipping it over a few times in her hands  looking it over she could tell hat it was old, generations old. Finally she opened the over to look within, first thing that caught her attention was the name. 

                    “Strange…..” she muttered out loud before the other, gray hues looked to the text. Melina wasn’t a stupid girl. She had the top of the kingdom train and had learned both nations long ago at a very young age. Her will and brain power could tell that this was ‘old’ magic.

                      As she raised her eyes to him is when he opened his mouth and at once her hands caught his face, the book was drooped into her lap with a heavy thump. 

                     She normally left well enough alone but this….this was nothing she had ever seen before and every cell in her body had a thirst for an answer.

                     “The cut and cauterization to keep you from bleeding is pronominal….It looks as if no hesitation was brought upon the action. They were use to this …..what a clean cut…..” she bubbled up with entertainment and thrill before looking to the spot where the brand was.

                     “…..I have to say , I’ve never seen such a thing…are you some sort of high priest?” She questioned letting him go at once and taking her normal place. 

As she released him he ran his fingers through his hair to calm himself. He stood, and grabbed the nearest writing supplies he could find. With his head pounding he couldn't very well communicate telepathically as he had on the battlefield.

"Yes," he wrote, his letters on the messier side " I was one of the highest priests." His eyes scanned the page as if every stroke of his pen was a work of art

"They took my tongue as tribute for my power. I was a singer."

When the page was finished he handed it to her for her reading pleasure and quickly remembered the ritual.

They had him taken down into the darkest depths of the temple. He was only a teen, but one of the brightest pupils they had. He gave everything to them, and they game him everything in return.

Screams of pain echoed through the crypt halls as the procedure had taken place. And then silence, calm, and darkness. A demon had touched him, and he willingly accepted it. The Itzal he was was permanently taken away.

As he spoke, Alec examined his fingernails, soon after stuffing that same hand into his pocket, not as a signal of plain boredom, but to take out another deck of cards, this time, different than the usual, the white to it would be black instead, and the details, which would oftentimes be black and red, were replaces by golden and silver. 

He took a deep breath, before speaking up. “First of all, I’d rather not be touched just like that, you never know when a hand could slide from a shoulder to the neck.” As much as they’d made a deal, Alec could never trust strangers, he’d learned from his hundreds of years alive.

The deck Alec had pulled out was truly a work of beauty. In all his years on this earth he had never seen such a beautiful set of cards. 

“Well,” He began, still much too close to the other. His eyes on the mysterious deck in Alec’s hands “We’ll just have to find you a target now, wont we? I’m sure the drunkards around here are just as stupid as any other. How does that sound?” Once again, Emillio paced around, but this time just to the front for Alec to see his sickeningly sweet grin.

                        And when that human child walked towards him, he got scared and he blinded her. He thought she was a threat. Thought he saw a knife, a weapon. Anything. But he was hallucinating it, just as he started hallucinating half of what happened. If people didn’t talk about the darkness who saved them, then he’d think he hallucinated that too.

The tiny vampires mind raced with thoughts of the past, of scars that were made and healed all in one night, week, and eon. It made him angry and he felt it shake him to his core. He remembered vividly the countless times he was called monster; That's what he was, wasn't he?

"I cannot hate you for doing your duty. If you must abandon me then it must be done." Vincent's hand reached to his face to wipe away some bits of dried blood, but also to prevent tears from falling. "But if your brother takes you away from me, there is nothing stopping me from hating him for the rest of my eternity.”