Fugue State

a state or period of loss of awareness of one's identity

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 Collateral Effects, @Nyssa // Kseniya
Apr 18 2018, 01:46 AM
71
posts
1964 Archdemon Luxury Hotel Owner
The Corruptor
A kiss like never before. Somehow you open the door, to how I feel inside. Blood red sunrise. I'm burning fast, I'm in love with you. And every time I move close to you. There's a fire in the room.
Hell
Loki-sexual
obsessive // shipped w/his brother
Mattie / Ninian

awards

clandestine corruption
Sarah
she/her/that bitch | PTSD | 3/3/3 | Sarahroo#5726
The countryside was nothing he hated, and how could he? A man from the meadow lands of Scotland and he couldn't find anything to hate of this place and its sprawling hills and abundant sun. He could have been there in seconds but to everyone that watched him park the sleek silver porche in the lot, he was a man. A man mortal and fallible and just like them. Appearances were everything in this world when the stock of those like them were in short supply. One didn't wander through life flashing their cards to just anyone, after all and certainly not to all those that glanced his way and his unfolded his lengthy frame from the small car that was rarely used. An oddity for a man accustomed to a brief step through Hell and it looked as immaculate as the suit that hugged his frame, pinstriped and its deep dusty brown was offset carefully with the palest of lavenders hugged to his throat.

How his legs fit into the confines of his vehicle was anyone's guess.

A hand tucked into a pocket and his stride was lengthy and ground eating as he wandered over the carefully paved lot that lead to the sprawling building that sat at the cusp of everything grapes. It smelled fresh, as fresh as the Hell that didn't cling to him as he pulled open a glass front door and strode himself inside. The drive hadn't been a long one, refreshing perhaps though it left his mind to wander as the wind tousled his defiant curls, the very head of them that he saw his fingers through now. Combed back in a taming as eyes settled on the woman behind the front desk. Blathering on and immediately about wine tours and when the next was. A glance to his side, to the gathering of people in their sun hats and clothing that was as casual as he'd suspect would coat everyone rushing through a theme park and his tropical eyes were back on the woman behind her desk.

A hand shifted then, gentle but firm in its silent asking for her lips to cease moving.

"I've an appointment with Ms. Voronina. Tell her Irbson is here."

Firm. Without wiggle room, the crisp and low of his lilted voice was such that it soothed as well as it was obeyed. His stark features were adorned with a faint smile, cordial and business-like before his feet shifted again. Matthias waited for no answer, expectation moving him to stand before a broad and tall window. Floor to ceiling and his eyes wandered the fields that stretched along the soft sloping of the hills. His mind strayed, the chorus of noise behind him ignored and his mind wandered--

Ciniath would adore this place, all wide open and full of flowers and life, no matter how it wilted as he walked.

Fingers pressing lightly to his lips, the other hand yet tucked casually in his pocket and he looked a man contemplating something deep and meaningful as he gazed and thought of his beloved brother and the look of him if he frolicked with not but flowers in his hair. Such whimsy and romanticism to his movement and the sun in his hair. The kiss of it upon his cheeks as they dappled over in soft freckles. Mathias not so suddenly wished he were here, to watch him rush about with excitement in his eyes. His blood grew warmer in his veins. To sprawl him about in the greenery and see his long legs bent, to--

"Mr. Irbson, if you would please,"

Eyes snapping to and they'd narrow gently as his feet shifted from the window and followed along behind some other woman. Perhaps Kseniya was making a stand against feminism? Matthias paid it no mind as they slipped down a hallway and to a set of double doors. A soft knock and-- "You may return to your work," a hand was offered to silence the woman before the quiet sound of a familiar voice rang from the other side of the door. A step forward and his hands swinging idly at his sides. Without a movement to grasp a handle the door swung open enough to see his lengthy stride across the threshold. Features carefully placed and his attention was forward and focused--

"Kseniya."

Curt, the doors closing behind him, the blue of his eyes snapping to the woman at her desk. There was not warmth to his tone, nor to his posture as a hand wrapped around the back of the singular chair set before her desk. The curl of his fingers was everything elegant and softly tapping.

"I must say, your call was highly unexpected,"

What do you want.

With a flick of his wrist the button on the front of his suit jacket was slipped from it closure to see the fabric parted as he wandered around the chair.

--------------------
user posted image
May 20 2018, 07:59 PM
25
posts
1307 demon the faithless/winemaker
archdemon
i wanted nothing but silence, black woods, decay, and cold winds; to lie twisted and turned as a serpent, to be in unison with a dying earth.
hell
pansexual
single
kse, ksyusha

awards

the faithless
nyssa
she/her | eastern | 3/3/3 | Visenya.#0657

”No, I don’t like that one either. I don’t like the color scheme nor the fonts used for it,” Kseniya droned monotonously, staring at the immense computer screen in front of her. She had her personal assistant on speaker phone in her office, going over the new summer brochures that she had wanted to get prepared. Kseniya didn’t want another delayed release like with the spring ones; that fiasco was something she continued to pass the blame on the assistant.

”I want something that says ‘elegance’ and ‘luxury’, not this god awful green scheme. It’s not even a tasteful green, darling. It’s like I’m almost paying you money to sit around and just throw things together at this point.” Kseniya shook her head with a roll of her grey eyes and a sassy click to indicate she was clicking towards the next design. She knew the assistant had more than likely lost sleep over this little endeavor and probably also wanted to strangle the boss in this moment as well.

Kseniya welcomed the gesture if they ever wanted to, knowing damn well that they never would. It was hard to stand up to an archdemon that also held your precious and fragile soul in her well-manicured pale hands. She smirked at the thought, wanting to give it a twist to show just how much of their boss she truly was; but refrained when she glanced down at the time.

Oh, it was almost time with to meet with her dear brother in sin, Matthias. He was so different than her wicked Loki, but brothers were often like that…only normal brothers probably didn’t fuck. Or maybe they did and just were more discreet about it? Kseniya let her mind ponder on that for a moment until she heard her assistant desperately trying to reign her attention back to the project at hand.

”Miss Kseniya? Boss? Did you hear me?” the assistant’s voice broke her out of her bored train of thought. The demon rolled her eyes once more, finding her new black and deep crimson color scheme on her computer more fascinating than the conversation that was trying to revive itself.

”I didn’t hear a word you said, but hold on one second,” Kseniya perked up when she saw the red light blinking on the phone, indicating the front desk was trying to alert her of something. She pressed the button with more enthusiasm than she had mere moments ago, listening to the announcement of Matthias from her lovely front desk attendant.

Kseniya would be lying if she said she wasn’t currently in the panties of most of her female employees; one of the reasons why she kept so many lovely to look at employees. Sexist? Maybe, but power to feminism for having mainly female employees right?

”Oh look at that, my appointment is here, I expect better layouts and color schemes and all that mundane tasks to be completed by our next conversations.” Kseniya quickly dismissed her assistant as the door opened to reveal the impeccably dressed Matthias; not even giving them a chance to respond before she hung up the line.

”Matthias~,” Kseniya purred, sitting up straighter in her chair and gestured for the man to actually take a seat. ”It’s been far too long since we’ve talked, let alone see each other, darling.”

She slid open the bottom drawer of her desk before pulling out two wine glasses and a bottle of one of her top shelf and most loved red wines, pouring two and setting one in front of her as a sort of peace offering on her terms. After all, she had called him for more than a social visit this time around and wanted to at least set a ‘friendly’ tone between them...for now.

”Always so straight to the point, but this is more than a mere social call to chat and catch up,” Kseniya started, taking a long sip of the glass of wine in front of her. ”I do have a business proposition for you to consider that I do believe will make us both more money.”
May 25 2018, 01:09 AM
71
posts
1964 Archdemon Luxury Hotel Owner
The Corruptor
A kiss like never before. Somehow you open the door, to how I feel inside. Blood red sunrise. I'm burning fast, I'm in love with you. And every time I move close to you. There's a fire in the room.
Hell
Loki-sexual
obsessive // shipped w/his brother
Mattie / Ninian

awards

clandestine corruption
Sarah
she/her/that bitch | PTSD | 3/3/3 | Sarahroo#5726
His brow rose, a minute gesture when compared to the stride of him as he took the few steps forward that would see him poured to the back of a chair. A minute gesture over the silken purr of her that did nothing but rile a vile bubbling in the middle of him, deep, deep down where those butterflies lived. Their wings half burned over with acid and many missing one if not both, and yet they did flutter every now and then. At the thought of sitting and painstakingly removing the skin from a foe as they writhed. At the elegant and thirsty part of legs upon the smooth crisp tone of his shoes upon the floor when work was done and saw him poured into his shared suite.

This purr however, was not a thing that would see anything flutter.

”I do hope you’re speaking for only yourself,” it was a tone bored and increasingly eloquent, where Loki’s drawled lightly, that cute boyish need to sound easy and lase fair, Matthias’ lilt was crisp and clean and left no room for assumption. A man who spoke words for a purpose, each one filed down and sharp enough to end a life is he pressed to hard against that delicate fleshy membrane that coated a throat. There was no love, nor hatred in his voice, a cool and calm dislike that tended to grab hold almost always.

It disliked everyone equally, even in this he found nothing special about the Faithless.

The corrupter had never made it any secret he cared none for his fellow Hellions, nor would he pretend now, as he wandered around the chair offered to sit, the soft draping of his jacket billowing every so gently in the soft rocking of his long-limbed saunter. That Kseniya was included in this rather bland and large grouping of people, was nothing that needed pointed out. He was, simply, a man with very specific tastes. Specific enough to count itself as one. The rest of the world was fodder he cared only enough over to them used to his benefit before they were discarded again.

He settled into his chair then, the woman behind her desk pulling wine and glasses, olive branches from a woman who cultivated grapes, it was also ironic if it’d not been something he eyed with everything like distrust. It lasted for seconds before he decided she’d need more than poisoned wine to see him rid of. If this was her plan, in point of fact, he’d be everything entirely disappointed in her overall. Like a father who’d need frown over the dinner table at his flunking daughter and her piss poor grades and rebellious holes in her face.

All the same, his fingers were long and wrapped easily around the wine glass though he saw none of it past his lips, merely sat it in his palm and saw its liquid swirled ‘round to coat the walls and waft its deep, rich scent into the air. His brow would cant in earnest then as Matthias made himself every bit as comfortable as a king upon his throne. He’d not quip at her, though it was there, a man who cared nothing for most and chatting was better suited for his cherub-cheeked brother. Glass lifted and yet it’d not see purchase against his lip as he eyed the woman across from him.

”A business proposition?”

He’d mentally handwave the idea of money, though it was nice, it was nothing he was lacking.

”You think that wise, between the likes of you and I, Faithless?

It clucked from his tongue, a shameful title maybe, if you trusted the faint amused quirk of his mouth.

”And who do you assume will be walking out of that tie at the end of the day, yet alive? Me. Or you?

The latter felt like a bear trap laid just before her feet. Did she also expect them to play nice and braid each other’s hair? Matthias wasn’t against it, not the hair, but rather the challenge to playing nice, until one or the other snapped and the city fell to its knees beneath the quake of them. Thoughtfully he stared, his eyes as cold as they were that same glacier blue, cutting as they painted the tips of your appendages to blacken and rot. When he spoke again it was in the air of disbelief—

”Well, do go on,”

--------------------
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