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“Why have just one partner go insane?” Pierce shrugged. “While he’s forgetting she can be remembering or whatever you like. Slowly losing their minds in the process.” He suggested. “A true test of their love if you will.”

A slow smile curled over her face as she considered the implications of his plan.  He was even darker than she was, and that was saying something.  “And what if their love doesn’t withstand the test?” She asked, barely able to get the words out straight-faced. 

That was another story for another time, perhaps for his safety a story to be told of the fourth of never, in the year of not happening. People tended to get touchy about conning someone out a soul. If pressed Pierce would omit his part in the explosion. Maybe it was time Pierce looked at his skill of gift giving… especially when it came to Mal.

Pierce smiled a devilish grin worthy of Boris Karloff narrating how terrible his idea was. “Perhaps it’s time then, for Dimitri’s deepest fear to come true.”

Hera had to admit, his mischievous, smirking grin could rival hers.  She actually trusted that more than people who spoke pretty words or had grand intentions.  She smiled. 

“Perhaps it is.  If you tell me his greatest fear involves a partner going insane, you may replace my husband as my favorite person to grace my presence today.” 

“This is perfect, thank you.” It was starting to feel a bit like a polite competition between the two of them. “It briefly blew up a while back, but the owner has since rebuilt it.” He may or may not have had an accidental hand in the explosion. Souls are fickle things apparently.

All of Pierce’s magic had a price of some kind, if not from the customer then from Pierce which meant he got sick as his lifespan took a hit. Oh the joys of voodoo. “Then I’m sure we’ll get on wonderfully.” Pierce smiled. He always did have a weak spot for women who could murder him if they so chose. It probably wasn’t the healthiest trait to look for in a significant other. “I’m not too sure, but he certainly has it coming.” Pierce sat back and took a sip of his drink as he thought. “The girl could frankly do better so really I was doing her a favor.” Pierce added off handily. “He seems more distraught though.”

Hera arched an eyebrow, definitely intrigued with the it blew up aspect of any conversation.  She didn’t ask, though.  Asking was too direct, at least in this moment, and it would also take them off topic.  She wasn’t inclined to drag this exchange out.

The rest of his talking points  had her attention, though.  She could do better versus he’s impertinent -- Pierce certainly knew his audience.  He had come to the right place.  She offered a cool smile.  “I can work with distraught.  It’s almost easy to play into fears and doubts when they’re right at the surface.” 

“I can, yes.” Pierce actually preferred his scotch on the rocks (more preferably whiskey stones), simply because he enjoyed having a bit of cold before the burn. He did believe that watered down scotch or any alcohol was a sin, which tended to be the problem with ice. “I tend to prefer the Black Dragon, but to each their own.” Pierce said, he wasn’t about to insult her family (even if it was only the in-laws) in her home. 

Pierce took his drink with a nod as thanks. “We had a disagreement with how I conducted some business with his girlfriend. I may or may not have taken her memories of him as payment for my services.” He shrugged as he swirled his drink and took a sip. “I had him arrested afterwards, but I still don’t approve of turning the other cheek when bruised. I’m more of the eye for an eye kind of guy.” Pierce was more of the take two eyes and maybe a tongue for an eye kind of guy. “What did he do to you?”

“Do you prefer it some other way?”  She asked.  Part of being a hostess, she knew, was meeting a guest’s expectations.  She didn’t know this man well enough to deride him yet.  She arched an eyebrow.  “I’ve never been, or heard of it, but I am open to the trip.”

A new place to drink, especially with those more classy than tended to flock to Hades’ establishment, was always welcomed. 

Hera raised her eyebrows appreciatively as he described his misdeeds.  Her most recent foray into that particular field had been the means to a specific end (survival), but she had enjoyed other, similar tactics before.  While it had been solely for her own pleasure, rather than something requiring payment, she found she didn’t mind his reasoning, either.  In spite of the fact that it interfered in a relationship. “Eye for an eye lacks a certain creative flair for me,” she explained.  “But I appreciate its undertone at least.”  She sipped from her own drink.  “He was very disrespectful.  No punches were thrown, but I have a bit of a hair trigger.  What did you have in mind as his penance?” 

“Scotch, if you have it.” Pierce told her with a smile. It didn’t slip pass him that it wasn’t a question and that she seemed to be struggling with being civil. He was unexpected and likely unwanted. “Hades owns it, correct? I’ve met him once a while back. Charming.” It was the same kind of compliment as a southern woman’s “bless your heart”, as in it wasn’t a compliment at all. “Dimitri.”

Pierce sat up and leaned closer. “Look, I’m going to just cut the bullshit for a second because we both have things to do I’m sure.” Besides he was pretty sure if he kept up the nice charade for too much longer he would get a cavity. “That skinny man with the nose said he crossed you and he’s crossed me. Now I have certain skills that come in handy with these kind of things, but it gets tricky when I use it to help myself. So it tends to help with the red tape if it benefits another.” Pierce explained. “And maybe you might have your own skill set to add to mix and make it sweeter.” He leaned back again with shrug. “Interested?”

“I do,” she said, turning to fix his drink.  “Do you take it neat?”  She didn’t think there was any other way to take Scotch, if one were drinking like a human, but others had their preferences.  Who was she to tell them they were wrong?  (That didn’t mean she wouldn’t.  It just meant they were perfectly entitled to be wrong.)  She gave him an amused little ‘hmm’ when he actually described Hades, and the Underworld, as charming.  It was almost worthy of an actual laugh.  “That may be the first time I’ve heard that word used.  But it is something, isn’t it?”  A cesspool, an eyesore, a blight upon the town.... those things, maybe.  Those were some things. 

She made her drink to match his, and slid to her seat with purpose, both drinks in her hand.  She passed his to him and drew a long pull from hers before she answered.  She did rather appreciate his directness.  “I just might be,” she agreed with a nod and shrewd smile.  “What did he do to cross you?  Let’s compare notes on his impertinence as a beginning and we’ll see what suitable punishment we can come up with.”   

That was something at least that Pierce and Hera could agree on, first impressions mattered. She focused on dominance and power while Pierce was more interested in fear and control. “I would have it no other way, Hera.” Pierce kept his friendly demeanor as he followed her through to her office. The green walls were somewhat unnerving to him with all the themes of nature. Pierce much preferred the comfort of buildings lined up against each other than a forest. 

“You have a lovely home.” He told her before gesturing to a chair. “You mind?” Only hesitating a moment before taking a seat. Pierce needed her to like him at least somewhat, but he wasn’t the type to be completely submissive. She needed to know he could hold his own as well. “A little bird at the Underworld tells me we have a mutual acquaintance of a bartender there.” Pierce smirked at he got a bit more comfortable. “I think we can help each other.”

While she had interest in the qualities of a home, she had no interest in the particulars.  That they had a lovely home, however sparsely decorated, was no thanks to her.  Other than demanding it be that way, she had no idea how it had gotten to be as it was.  She offered a small smile.  “Thank you,” she said.  It was only polite.

“No, please do,” she said.  “Any of these chairs are for guests.  Since you’re not one of my typical clients, I can offer you a drink, if you’d like one.”  No, it wasn’t phrased as a question, but she was trying.  Sort of.  She rolled her eyes, but it was almost a sideways gesture rather than a typical, dismissive one.  “I suppose that depends on how loosely you use the word ‘acquaintance.’  But it is my brother’s bar, so I’m familiar with a few of the staff.  Which bartender and why do you ask?”