[Anniversary] Morpheus strikes at noon

Mikhainon

Mikhainon shrugged. "I thought kids these days like sex, considering puberty and such? It's a fairly modern human concept to treat a biological necessity as taboo, don't you think? Sex is sex. Animals do it all the time. What's the big deal?"

As if to mock the way Kaya's guard was way, way up, Mikhainon leaned against the counter almost too casually, leaving his body open and vulnerable. (He was never vulnerable, though. Not really.)

"Believe it or not, I'm not trying to take anything from you, Kaya. If this was a business transaction, I'd be on the other side of this table. There would be a clear boundary between businessman and client." Hari gestured to the bar counter. "But this is a bar counter in a dance club, and I'm buying you a Shirley Temple."

Just as he mentioned it, the waiter came by and placed a Shirley Temple in front of Kaya. "We're nowhere near Hell. We're far away from its politics. Relax a little."

"And sometimes treating such of our baser natures usually is a sign of higher intelligence however as you seem adamant to know the answer to such questions in the actual world I have not kissed or bedded anyone. I have a question for you seeing as you seem to know more about me then I would like, how well do you know my mother and the nature of succubi? My mother abandoned me to my father just like how my elder sister was abandoned by her mother. The nature of the Succubi makes them terrible long term companions and my father was the sentimental type as you obviously know. I do not partake of that certain part of my nature because of what my mother did. You may say, I've gained my fathers sentimentality towards partnerships. When I find my one I will not leave like my mother did to me and my father."her tone became venomous as she spoke of her mother, it was a touchy subject. She didn't know where her mother had left to but she stopped caring after a couple of years in the human world.

She was in the middle of sipping her drink when he said that he wasn't here to ask her for anything but she gave him a look like she would believe that when the other circles of hell froze over.then she found her glass empty and the drink Mikhainon said he'd give here was present. With a sigh she put her glass down and it was immediately by the omnipotent bartender. "I am so on guard my host because of the very fact that we are away from what is real and the Halls of Hell. For it is when I let my guard down with those I know less then a crest about them yet they are able to talk to me by my first name without me having to introduce myself. Not only do I think that somewhat a breach of edict for two such as ourselves." Taking a sip of her new drink she fortified her will for any invasion, for one couldn't drug another in a dreamscape without pushing their will on the victim, and kaya did not want to be taken unawares.

Kaya sipped on her drink some more before looking him up and down measuring his ability to strike at her from his current position. "If you aren't here to try to ask me for something then, if I may ask. Why did you invite me to this..." she waved a hand through the air taking in everything in the bar and dance floor. Her eyes pausing on the attractive forms of both gendered dancers. "...showy place? I my self don't frequent these places and certainly don't intend to in the future."

Mikhainon

Mikhainon shook his head. He had been mistaken for an incubus before, but he couldn't blame them. He liked sex. But it wasn't, by any means, his sustenance. He thought they only fed from people, though. He supposed feeding from demon lords was another way to go about it, but he felt sorry for the poor bastard that would fall for such an obvious trap.

Sentimentality was the downfall of any demon. Once you get attached, you might as well be dead. Still, Mikhainon wasn't immune to it — he could remember a man in Japan that so easily trumped him at the back of his mind. He never even got in his pants.

"I only consort with the higher echelons, not chaotic rogues." He pursed his lips. "Ah, yes, but being a succubus means you literally thrive on baser needs, feed from sex, from passion, from heat and energy and individual worship until your partner's entire body runs dry. It's a miserable way to live. I suppose monogamy is one way to go, but I hope your partner is as powerful as your father because humans, they don't last very long."

He finished his whiskey and listened to Kaya as she talked. "A breach of ethics? I wouldn't call it that. You're famous, kid. What's wrong with the limelight? But, if you're so bothered, we can start again..."

He stepped off his stool. He took a few paces back, turned around and walked back to the counter. The decoration and arrangement of the place completely changed, committing to his 'meeting for the first time' act. He smiled at Kaya. All demonic traces of his behavior was completely erased, and he began talking like he was nothing but a charming young man hoping to get to know a beautiful young lady. "Hey, beautiful. Come here often?"

Morgan told Chloe that they met in a coffee shop. Chloe knew that this was impossible. Ever since her inhuman nature revealed itself, Chloe had been banished to Blomgren Academy; she only knew the people and places within its barbed-wire and electric-fenced confines.

"I have literally never been to a coffee shop in my life," Chloe said. "And if I left Blomgren I'd probably die. Have you seen... literally any news program in the last 4 months?"

Of course she didn't. She was probably just a figment of her imagination. Another player in what was already shaping up to be a weird dream. From the floating island, she could see a lot of different... dreams? That was how Morgan described it; the fifteen-year-old could just roll with that.

One of the dreams had a graveyard in it. Chloe stopped looking around; her whole body froze when she saw it. She could read some of the names on those tombstones. They looked familiar.

"...This is only a dream." Chloe told herself. Her voice shook.

Back in the sauna, the centuries-old Chloe was a bit upset at her fellow demon. Removing Amalia's clothes and kissing her like that - it felt like too much, too soon. It made Chloe worried. It might have turned Amalia on, sure, but it also might have scared her away.

Chloe had centuries of practice playing this game. As a general rule, taking control away from her mark and just doing things to them was a bad idea. Too risky, and too likely to turn a good dream into a nightmare. By the time Kaya left, Chloe decided that she needed to run damage control, apologizing profusely on Kaya's behalf.

Morgan was confused as to why Chloe couldn't recognize her, and now the younger girl looked horrified as she stared at a graveyard. She a hand on Chloes shoulder, "You're right, this is all a dream, nothing in here is real." she wasn't quite sure if that would help her at all, but it couldn't hurt right?

Something rustled in a bush behind Morgans small house, it was... menacing, it was practically emitting menacingness.

ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´

Morgan could feel this things presence, and it was powerful. She glanced back to Chloe for a moment "Do you feel that? Im not sure what it is."

ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´

The rustling got even louder, and it sounded as if something was digging through the earth, Fuhbar was seen charging towards the noise wielding a massive greatsword "HAHA Another being has invaded, and I can feel that this one wishes to fight!"

ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´ã‚´

So there was a large gap to what this man knew about her. Something not all of the Hell's knew is that Kaya had more in common with her father then her mother when it came to needing sustenance. True she could sustain herself on others to survive but it was totally unnecessary for Kaya. However she did not want to dissuade the illusion this had pained for the rest of Hell. The only people that knew about this was her sister Lulu and her father.

When her surroundings changed for her however she looked over to where he was now coming towards her. She was confused for a short period before she caught up to what he was doing. Feeling a little tired of trying to correct the man she decided to play along and donned a persona of the 'innocent' woman sitting at a bar sipping her drink putting on a false smile. "In fact I don't come here often, But I've heard so much about it. Its quite a lot to take in on my first time."

Mikhainon

Mikhainon/Gabriel/Mikhainon-as-Gabriel smiled sheepishly. "I... Well, same, I don't normally do this kind of stuff. Bars make me nervous, but my friends over there —" He tilted his head at a nearby table full of frat boys, all faceless. "— told me to say that and talk to you?"

It was a surreal parody of a normal bar scene. None of the people had any life. Mikhainon played the role of charming but fumbling bar hopper with so much ease that, if you removed the earlier conversation, one would assume that was what he actually was.

"I moved to the island a few months ago." He nodded, swallowing his nerves before speaking again. "I got a job at the restaurant near the beach. It's going great? If you stop by, we make excellent salmon and I could get you cheesecake with a discount. But only if you want to! I've been making friends but..." He played with the straw on his drink. "N-never mind. What about you? Have you been to the island long?"

The Box

The Box was back to the place it was born, before it was The Box many people knew it as.

It was sitting at the local gift supply store, just one box among many, but this time, it could see everything going on around it. Moments seemed to pass like eternities as it watched countless people pass by it, never even once caring if it was a good companion or an intellectual. It was just a box to them. It was always just going to be a box.

It didn't matter that the box understood the intricacies of Nietztsche's philosophies, held an adoration for the beautiful surrealist writing style of James Joyce and the subtle grace of Monet's water lilies. It didn't matter that it extended a metaphorical hand to those less fortunate than it was.

It was always just going to be a box.

Perhaps it was time to resign to its fate.

The box sat there quietly on its shelf. It seemed almost invisible due to the lack of gift-giving holidays. Perhaps it would have some purpose when Christmas reared its head soon.