Private Oddly Domestic for a Ruthless Supervillain

Caissa was thoroughly enjoying her new home. It wasn't much, just a small studio apartment that she had convinced Malakias to buy for her with her cut of the profits from their business - which she of course kept in his care so that when he bought things for her it seemed more natural. Like a gift from a sugar daddy.

She was in yoga pants and a tank top, milling about with a small bowl of yogurt mixed with berries and granola. She had a lot to do today and she didn't need anything heavy on her stomach for the task at hand. She already had half a dozen boxes all around her with different addresses on them. All delivered to her directly by some of the Volkov men after the mail service delivered them to them. The largest was about the size of a mattress, leaned against the wall.

On her TV was the blank screen of a messaging app, waiting to make a call from the laptop that it was connected to. This space was much, much friendlier to her particular brand of activity. But it was oddly domestic. Mundane. She had a yoga mat in the corner next to one of those little bamboo shishi-odoshi fountain making a gentle, rhythmic tapping sound as it filled and spilled out the water running through its closed system. This wasn't the only splash of natural beauty around the otherwise modern, brushed steel aesthetic. There was also a patio that had been filled with box gardens of flowers and herbs.

And then there was her new friend: Matilda Blackstone. Her pocket witch. Caissa smiled at her, taking a seat on her big cushioned chair and stretching her leg out over the arm - was she trying to show off her calfs? Maybe. Probably. She smirked and took another bite of her yogurt. "What do you think, doll? Pretty sexy pad, right? I haven't christened it yet. Can't decide where I wanna do it first."

"You can't live in a sex dungeon, Tilly. I wanna be able to have friends over for things other than wild fucking."

She didn't bother to explain what christening meant in this context, instead opting to set her yogurt down and stretch out further on the chair so that her tank top lifted just a little above her stomach. Just enough to show off a hint of the black and neon orange of the sports bra she was wearing underneath.

"Although if you'd rather do that than get this spell rolling, I'm not gonna complain. The bed is right up the stairs in the loft. I took a page from Malara Tor and got one of those circular ones. With drawers around the side to put my clothes and toys for easy access."

She grinned, having a pretty good idea that Matilda would eagerly snap back to business when the offer to sleep with her was brought up again. Caissa figured she'd crack eventually, but it was fun watching her squirm in the meantime.

Caissa flipped up onto her feet, stalking around until she was behind Tilly and wrapping her arms around the girl's midsection. With their height difference, she had to bend down a little bit to press her lips against the other girl's ear. "Piranhas are actually huge pussies. They don't usually go for live prey, let alone something so much bigger than them. Besides, why dangle you over a tank when I have a perfectly good coffee table I can bend you over?"

Finishing with a quiet, breathy laugh, Caissa nipped playfully at Tilly's ear and stood back up to move over to the largest of the boxes: the one that actually contained their disassembled ritual circle.

"Nothing here is illegal. But if all this stuff was coming to one place, someone smart enough might be able to piece together that it's for a spell. Dad's got eyes everywhere and I can't afford for him to figure out what I'm up to and fuck me over before I can even get started."

She ripped the tape off of the box and pulled out the first plank - a gorgeous piece of mahogany with part of her sigil carved into it. The carved surface had gold foil pressed into it, adding a nice contrasting sheen against the dark wood.

"But you want lunch? I can order us something for delivery."

"Just because you could doesn't mean you should. Nasty, toxic little fuckers," Caissa said absentmindedly as she punched in an order on her phone. Portr could get them the food as soon as it was made, so she'd eat the cost of the delivery fee this time.

"And I did," she said when the order was placed. Caissa grabbed a package off of the kitchen counter and went back to the couch, patting the spot next to her for Tilly to scoot closer. The first thing that she opened was a ring box. It looked like an engagement ring, made of polished platinum and set with two black gemstones and two lavender ones - just like Caissa's eyes.

"I realized that I want as little skin contact as possible in case this thing decides to melt whatever it's touching. Don't wanna potentially lobotomize myself, so a crown was out. Clit piercing too, for different but equally important reasons. So. Ring. If I lose a finger, I lose a finger. Big fucking deal, ya know?"

"And," she said, slipping it onto the ring finger on her left hand and admiring it. "It's also kind of symbolic. Marrying me to this power sort of thing. It'll also be linked to our conduit with a matching ring."

And here Caissa set down the other part of the package. A newspaper article from several years ago. An Elven princess from a world beset by civil war, trapped in a coma and left in the care of Manta Carlos General Hospital.

"I know it will, sweetheart. You just do your magic and it'll be all set."

Caissa let Tilly muse over the article, repeating word for word the contents of it without even taking a look at it. She paused and set the next newspaper article in the other girl's lap.

"It's a magical sleep. She's basically dead 'til true love's first kiss'. That ain't happening - they're not gonna let people just. Line up to play tonsil hockey with the living corpse."

The next article mentions that the gateway to Marchenheim, the princess's homeworld, was being closed indefinitely as the war had grown out of control.

"Even if she does, she's got nothing to go back to. You chickening out on me, Tilly? I mean I guess if you're that nervous I could ask Sazz. He's pretty flexible, morally speaking."