A Strange Summons[M] {DamoniquexYzaidkaine}

[Damonique]

Rated M for all the good stuff. Coarse language, violence, psychological horror, sexual themes/situations, Drug/Alcohol references, so on and so forth.

A voice echoed throughout the neither, called so because it was neither here nor there, a transitory place of swirling, multicolored mists. Those mists were the Djinni, 'Demons' as the humans regarded them. Why and how they came to be there, none knew, nor did any ask, they simply were and had been since all memory, one moment, nonexistent, the next, present in multitudes.

The call attracted some attention, a few of mists swirling agitatedly or changing color in surprise, before settling down when they realized the call wasn't for them. Some were glad to be left alone, others disappointed. While none of the Djinni particularly LIKED humans, after a few centuries stuck in the same company, one yearned for a change of scenery. Eventually, the call reached a patch of mist colored what Zefien thought to be a quite vibrant shade or purple, and it stirred, confused.

But it was his name, there was no mistaking that, and he for forced to follow the call towards it's source, a few of the other Djinni spoke to(or, moreso, thought at) him. Some were jealous, others berating, all asking for him to give the full story on his return. Stories of their summons, and the deeds they did whilst shackled in the mortal world, were the only thing that set one Djinni apart from another, so they tried to collect good ones.

Eventually, he reached it...the summoning point. It was point of light no larger than the head of a needle, but it was enough of an opening to allow a demon through the barrier that seperated their world, this the neither, from the other one. Thee human place. Earth.

The passage was painful, as it always was, as if the world he was entering knew he didn't belong. But the summons was powerful, and before long, he was across the borderline, flowing out like a vapor into the world of men. Now, the only question was who wanted him here. And why.

[yzaidkane]

A young and beautiful woman kneels before him as she finishes the summon it closes behind him. Her white curls frame her dark skin golden eyes dart up quickly. "It worked..." I stand gracefully my head bowed I wipe my face clean of sweat before looking up. "Hello there dijin..."

[Damonique]

Zefien's essence flowed out of the tear in reality as a pale ribbon of silvery smoke that swirled around the confines of the summoners circle, sending out tendrils to test the edges, probing for some flaw in the design, but found only painful jolts for his trouble. His summoner knew her art, that was clear.

And speaking of his summoner...she was dark skinned, with almond-shaped Amber eyes that glinted like molten gold in the candlelight that illuminated the small study he'd been summoned to. Median, or Egyptian, perhaps?

The silver mist coalesced in midair into a sphere of liquid with the sheen of mercury, then flattened into a disc, a perfect mirror showing her own reflection. It was a djinn approximation of stretching, getting used to the physical world and the many states of matter that composed it that were lacking in his native dimension.

"Just Djinni? Really? No 'infernal demon' or 'capricious spirit'? How very polite of you." It was her reflection's mouth that moved as he spoke, in a voice that didn't match it, deep and threatening, a rasp like steel on a whetstone. There was a glint of amusement in the reflections features, though.

"Greetings, mortal. You have my name, Zefien, the blinding light, the frozen moon. It would only be fair you allow me your own, Miss...?" He continued in a sultry whisper, emphasizing his chosen epithets by making the disk blaze to life with an intense white light that, rather than warming where it shined, was a bitter cold. When the light faded, the face looking back at her was still her own, but now wearing a sweet smile of razor fangs between those plush lips, and two onyx-black horns jutted from behind her ears, parting the white hair around them. And the eyes...in place of her own golden orbs were two clear stones that sparkled like diamonds.

[yzaidkane]

A smile danced on my face "I do not give you my name but you may address me as Morgana." My chosen wording shows I have dealt and dealed with the Fae Folk before. My demeanor is calm but there is also a dangerous sparkle to my eyes. The summoning circle is not the simple one of salt or wax instead it's engraved on the carpet where you where summoned. The room was lighted by candles and the faint smell of the nearby ocean was noticible. The studio is rather messy filled with books and materials. "As for me being polite... Let's say it is a precaution... I've dealt with Fae and some others not as brash as you... Wording is everything for your kind...Now if you will... Let's get down to forming a contract shall we?" I get a book and fidget with it's worn leather cover the language on the spine is clearly ancient Egyptian. I only stare at you curious and ispecting it from afar I sit crosslegued and my clothes are simple cotton.

[Damonique]

"Morgana....Old name, false name, that of le'Fay. Fitting, as that wasn't her true name either. Caution is a trait you share, among others, young sorceress..." Zefien spoke, recalling a time gone by. It truly was an apt moniker, for this sorceress, whoever she was, had a similar air of confidence and authority to her, and the Djinni couldn't help but wonder if this one, too, would find all her hopes dashed and efforts ruined.

The twisted reflection in the surface of the mirror took a step forward then, and literally walked out of it in fully corporeal form, shifting shapes again, this time to that of a tall, elegant woman dressed in flowing black fabric from head to heel, with jet-black hair to match. It was the form of the first Morgan Le'fay, but for those diamond eyes, at her most beautiful, before childbirth, sleeplessness, and paranoia had worn away her body and mind. In this shape, Zefien sat cross-legged from the sorceress, mimicking her body language.

"A contract, yes, promises and pacts, blood and a kiss. Such is the curse of my kind, to play the marionette at the end of your strings....or so you tell yourselves. Very well, Sorceress, what does your heart desire...and what are you willing to pay for it?" Zefien continued in the calmest, most compromising tone, as the face of Morgan le'Fay he wore slowly aged and withered before her very eyes, until he was nothing but a skeleton crouched before her, a simple reminder of age and death, the two things nothing, not even the power of a Djinni could save her from.

[yzaidkane]

"Do not mock the name for it is not from the person why I've taken it... Morgana lefray was stupid and selfish and couldn't see the big picture... I unlike her know the price of magic for I am one of it's weilders... As for what my heart desires it matters not for I will form not a contract but an opportunity... Work with me... Not against and I'll let you walk amongst this world and I will set you free of those that keep you in prisoned..." Morgana is my given name but to me it has no value egypcians have a secret name that if know gives you power over the person. My words are sharp and dipped in silver, the reason they call me the snake charmer is because I can dance with devil's and not get hurt my cunning and wording are always guarded and beautiful to hear. My voice is soft like the waves of the coast. I look at your figure "you dare mock a scribe in her own abode... You are not of they Fey Folk now are you?"

[Damonique]

"I was mocking you, not the name, Morgana. Le'fay's failings were the same human weaknesses you all fall to, love and fear, lust and fury. Emotion, my dear, always the emotion..." The demon trailed off, the steel-on-stone rasp becoming a serpentine hiss as he assumed the form of an albino viper that slithered out from the eye socket of the withered skull, moments before the whole skeleton crumbled into dust and appeared to blow away in a nonexistent breeze. The snake coiled around itself, as if poising to strike, displaying fangs.

"You would trust me so much, as to willfully release such a serpent into the garden that is your world? Surely you recall the first time that happened...Lucifer won't stop bragging about it..." The snake hisses from it's coiled position, dripping with a mockery more thick than any venom. Only desperation or self-hatred would force one to take such an action, set a spirit loose on little more than that a vocal agreement. Still, there was that expectant gleam there. This sorceress was no novice, and wouldn't make such an offer lightly.

"You offer me words like fool's gold, sorceress, pretty to the ear, but worthless. Weather with you or for you, I must still do your bidding, and the freedom you offer is a fleeting thing. Your invitation is all that keeps me on this plane, and should tire of my company, or have your life cut short in the sudden and painful manner I expect, back to the neither I go." The serpent continued, bobbing it's head back and forth in mimic of shaking its head. There was still little on offer here, as to make much good of this arrangement, Zefien would have to both further this 'Morgana's plans and defend her from harm if he wished to take advantage of the offered freedom, which itself was only appealing to a point.

What would he do? Where would he go? Djinni's interactions with the mortal world were usually limited to carrying out their masters orders, and their life in the neither was entirely devoid of decisions. What would he do with freedom? Some Djinni might kill for sport in some act of revenge, others indulge in tempting mortals to their own destruction. But Zefien had little interest in either, as humans died and brought themselves to misery so often and easily without assistance. But there was something of interest here, his summoner herself, who seemed somehow both confident and naive at once, to make such an offer at all.

"So why the theatrics at all, you summoner? You come simply make your pact, settle a price, and send me off to do your will without such pretenses. Your offer sounds like a more....permanent arrangement. It's flattering to see my company is worth so much to you, but why?" Zefien finished, awaiting what answer the sorceress could come up with to justify wanting an unbound spirit hovering over her shoulder, waiting for her to misstep, even once, and place herself at his mercy.

[yzaidkane]

"I offer you more than what you think... I wish to tie your magic to mine... As you probably know scribes don't have unlimited magic, but with the help of a powerful dijin like you... I could have an unlimited magic source but your freedom would come with rules... Like in the days of pharaohs create a pact with one of your kind and our natural magic would be amplified..."

- - - Updated - - -

I am calm and confident I look at your snake form without even batting an eye. "I see you have a dlair for the dramatics..."

[Damonique]

Zefien was actually startled, as the fullest implications of his summoners offer were revealed, startled so that he momentarily forgot to maintain his physical state, the viper's bloodred eyes widening for a moment before the snake exploded back into cloud of silvery vapor it had began as, so violently that it occupied the entire are of the circle in which he was confined.

In an instant, the cloud reformed, this time into a more expressive form, that of a tall, impressively muscled man with skin white as bone(fully nude of course, for what need did a demon have for modesty?), and the head and shoulders of a black jackal, ears standing up straight at attention, jaws half-parted to reveal row upon row of razor fangs that did not belong in the mouth of any natural beast, tongue lolling. It was an apt form, that of one of her gods. She was she right, he did have a dramatic flair to him. It cocked it's head to the side, one eyebrow raised, in an entirely human expression of 'really?'

"Such an art, to take a part of me into you, entwine our essences without giving up the separate wholes. More than mere possession, more than a mere loan....a permanent link. I've heard tales of this from my brethren, and there is a reason your ancestors chose to forget how it was done, burn the books and kill the priests..." He spoke, suddenly turning his attention to the large tome the sorceress had open before her, taking in the age, the form of the hieroglyphics, archaic even for that already near-dead language. This was no bravado speaking, this woman had the means to actually do such a thing.

"And to think you balked to give me your name, when such rite as this makes that such a petty thing in comparison. I've been told that the ritual is painful, visceral, and simply....wrong, on so many levels, as your kind and mine were never meant to be so close...." Zefien continued, a manic glint shining in the Jackals eyes, and he recalled the other part of the tales, the ability to feel the sensations, mental and physical, of the mortal with whom they paired, the breadth and depth of emotion that he could only imitate in mockery.

It was....intriguing. He knew some of his kin would reject such an offer outright, even despite the opportunities it may provide, so great was their hate for mankind, but Zefien had been always fascinated with the tales of those Dijin who had experienced this, wondering if it were truly all they described or mere exaggeration, and now here he was being offered the opportunity to learn firsthand.

[yzaidkane]

"you have taken the very fitting form of Seth... God of the unruly nature of the dessert god of foreign beings and blood pacts... But for our pact it takes something more powerful than blood... Let me become your eye and you will experience mortal pleasures and I will experience your power..." I stand now looking up at you yet not down at you "my ancestors believed the union of our kinds to be sacred and to be protected at all cost those that destroyed my culture believed it to be unholy and unnatural. I am a child devoted to my culture and people and I wish to make my culture what it used to be... Help me"

- - - Updated - - -

I walk amongst the circle my bare feet silently padding around the circle as I grab my serpent engraved staff. "Your choice of appearance is humourous because I follow the path of Seth he is my patron god..."

[Damonique]

"You are truly a believer, aren't you, 'Morgana'?" Zefien inquired with a chuckle, but didn't elaborate. All he knew was that whatever god had handed such fell knowledge over to the humans probably meant it as more curse than blessing. Such power came at a great price, one they were both likely to pay before the end of this. But there was no turning back, not truly, he was already too taken with the opportunity presented not to see it through when such an offer was unlikely to come again.

"Very well, Sorceress, I accept you offer. But for one condition....such an agreement requires trust. Prove that you trust me...break the seal, place yourself at my tender mercy. If you have such resolve to proceed with this pact, if you expect me to trust you to make this worth my while, make a leap of faith." The false-Seth spoke, stepping forward to the very edge of the summoners circle, arms crossed, black canine eyes unblinking as they transfixed her own deep golden orbs, challenging.

She had not bound him, given no instructions, extracted no promises. Without the safety of the barrier between them, Zefien would be free to act without restraint. He could kill her....or worse, before she had time to banish him. Her magic was strong, for a human, but only a bare spark next to the corona of energy that formed the heart of Dijin, overpowering her would be like snuffing out a candle.

[yzaidkane]

I only smile at the challenge my gold eyes sparkle with mischief and curiosity yet other than that I stand steady. I look up at you and nod curtly.

"I am not one to take leaps of faith but if this is what I must do for me to prove myself to you then I shall. Weirder things have happened just know if you kill me you will not be able to break the seal around this apartment and you will be trapped within it" I motion towards a similar circle and to more engravements that the one you are currently on.

"So dijin... The risk is not mine for I do not value my life as a risk. I value the safety of those around me and of my people more than my own." I stand in front of you and step over the protective line breaking it and I stand before you my staff placed on the floor behind me.

"Now false god tell me... Does my trust burn true?"

[Damonique]

At his summoners words, Zefien looked around ,examining the symbols and seals that formed a second layer of protection about the study. It's true, if he killed her, he would be sealed here in much the same way as his brethren had been contained to guard the treasures and tombs of the dead in ages long passed. Though if the Dijin had truly meant to kill her, that would not have been enough of a threat. Humans were curious creatures, and he only had to wait, be it a decade or a century, for some fool to come along and break the seals. Still, it seemed a dreary place to be stuck waiting.

And then she actually did it, stepping across the line to join him within the circle, a few scant inches between them, her petite form seeming so fragile, her confidence seeming so hollow, stripped of protection. The jackals-head looked down at her and formed a wicked, sharp-toothed smile, and he slowly uncrossed his alabaster arms, extending a large hand to place tenderly atop her left breast, just above her heart, feeling warmth there, a heartbeat. Life. There was nothing like it in the neither, as Dijin were creatures of light and thought rather than flesh and blood.

"Burn, you say....yes, I think it does..." He whispered, as a blue phantom flame engulfed his palm where it met the soft fabric of her robe, passing through it easily, another strong arm coming up to grip her shoulder, preventing her from stepping back as the searing pain began. It was not like normal fire, but somehow worse, both cold and hot at once. The demon smirked, drinking her scream, relishing in the jackhammer beat of her heart. If nothing else, the sorceress would know not to trifle with him again. Zefien didn't just want trust, he wanted respect, and a bit of fear would not be unwelcome. Hopefully, this harsh lesson would inspire it.

It lasted only a few moments, that surely would have seemed to drag on for an eternity to the sorceress, but eventually, the flame faded, leaving behind only a pitch black handprint, like a tattoo, on the soft flesh of her breast. No real damage had been done to the skin or muscle beneath, but that mark would remain, a permanent and indelible reminder of her foolishness in placing trust in a demon and expecting not to pay for it. He released her shoulder, allowing her to drop unceremoniously to the floor before him.

"I could have done worse. Many of my brethren would have done worse, 'Morgana'. Remember that you were lucky to choose the name Zefien out of the multitude of spirits for this task, for I bear little hatred for you and your kind. Exasperation and pity, perhaps, but not hate." He spoke in an almost bored tone, dropping to sit cross-legged on the floor, waiting for her to recover. If she was wise, she would banish him in an instant, but he doubted she would have come this far only to give up after a bit of pain. And if she did, he would still be satisfied with having taught her a little humility.

[yzaidkane]

The searing pain invades my senses and but I do not whither my training had made me be able to whitstand a lot of pain for my magic the ones of scribes was painful and burned from the inside. I kneel there gasping for breath but look up at him my gold eyes smulder with content

"I chose well... You wish to know why? Because you can't scare me. I am a creature of Seth our rituals are blood and pain. That of the dessert that of the fire... You do not faze me dijin... For I know my offer intreagued you and that seal this room is hidden in the temples... Few venture here and those that do know to heed the warnings ... If you wish for me to send you back... You just need to ask" my voice is more like a growl in the back of my throat my amulets glow with the same blue as your fire.

I stand once more "let me become your eye dijin... Let us join together and you will feel all carnal pleasures and I will taste the power of your flame." What he doesn't know is that I am scared behind the facade behind the smirk and snake charmer words I fear but I do not show. Your kind was banished from being summoned by the Per Ankh but I didn't care for those old fools. True power lies in my union with this dijin.

[Damonique]

Zefien had truly expected to at least get a scream out of her, but instead, the unusual priestess grit her teeth and bore the pain well....almost relished in it. And the look of contentment on her face as the fire faded felt as if it was mocking him, and he realized that he had once again underestimated the resolve of this human that bordered on insanity to subject herself to a pact.

"You are right, you offer piqued my curiosity. But now you have my full attention, servant of Seth, because you know exactly what my kind is capable of when granted independence from yours, the havoc we can wreak with our power and the discord we sow with simply words that brought even the mightiest of the teeming infestations you call civilizations to their knees....and you truly believe that you or I are different, that this story will play out any better than those before." Zefien explained in a low tone, a savage grin upon the jackals head he wore. Perhaps she was right....at present, he was more interested in learning what exactly this 'Morgana' meant to use his power for, if her plans were sufficiently interesting, he'd at least follow them for a time to make the shock of eventual betrayal all the sweeter.

"Very well, you have the book, the staff, and the words....by all means, reach out and attempt to grasp the perfection and power that is Dijin. And if realizing my true nature destroys your pitifully small mind, all the better. Raving insanity might suit you better than false bravado." The demon continued, although false bravado rang true for him as well. Fear was not in the nature of spirits, timeless and deathless they were, and while they knew pain well, summoners have devised all manner of magic meant to punish their servants, even that was more to be avoided than feared.

But mixed in with the anticipation was something resembling fear, that pervaded the depths of Zefiens mind. Once this ritual was complete, the freedom to simply be dismissed as 'Morgana' had so kindly offered would not be possible. The bond would tie him to this mortal plain, and only her death would free him, even then, a piece of her would remain within his essence. Those Djinni in the neither who had undergone this before were irreversibly changed by it, expressing thoughts and even feeling that no pure spirit could even fathom. And yet he was choosing that irrevocabe change for himself, out of mere curiosity to see how it would play out.

[yzaidkane]

" I had always known what your kind was capable of... Yet I do not fear, my God offers not mercy but he does offer power... He will stand by me... By the blood in my veins... The desert is within me your flame will only feed my own..."

My voice is still rough from the pain. But I stand strong, I stand still and most of all I stand proud. Very little was actually known about your kind but you did not know that. Your kind did not know we lost the scriptures when Alexandria fell victim to flames. "I will ask you again dijin" I take a step forward towards you instead of away from you and tilt your snout down my golden eyes burning into your pale blue.

"Will you allow me to be your eye... Will you follow the path before me... Until my death set you free?... Or will you flee... Like your kind are known to do" my touch is warm and soft yet firm my skin is smooth like satin but you can also see the muscles from my training.

"Will you allow me to conquer a taste of your power... For the taste of mortal sin?"

[Damonique]

Zefien let the priestesses boasts and intonations pass over him without comment, knowing the words were as much to bolster her own resolve as for him to hear, looking her over as she regained her footing with difficulty and stepped towards him once again. 'Morgana' was still attractive, but the cool, remote beauty she had worn before had diminished somewhat in the face of his power.

The shoulder of her wrapped linens was a mess where his flaming hand had disintegrated it, falling open to reveal the rounded upper curve of one breast and the black handprint he had left on upon it, and her posture was no longer perfect, simply remaining upright through the aftershocks of the searing pain proving difficult, and still working to catch her breath from the ordeal. But for all her appearance was changed, there was still nothing but the fires of determination and pride in those molten gold eyes.

As she extended a hand to touch him, Zefien change forms again, letting the jackals-head melt and shrink into the visage of a handsome young man, perhaps in his mid-twenties, skin tone tanning from bone white to a light bronze, a wild mane of sand-blonde hair sprouting. It was the form of a man he had known what would have been centuries ago, his first summoner. He had been nothing special, either as a person and as a weaver of magic, but as was often said by humans in a very different context, one never quite forgets their first. He brought a soft hand up to place gently against the summoners cheek, brushing aside a strand of that soft white hair.

"I do." He whispered softly in a dulcet tone that carried so trace of either anticipation or anxiety, deciding the words were fitting, a this would be a marriage of a sort, to borrow human conventions, but one of souls for power rather than hearts for love. And then he cleared his mind, steeling his spirit for what was to come next. The pain, the confusion, the enormity of change this pact promised, for good or ill.

[yzaidkane]

I don't flinch or move at your touch but I do make a low noise in the back of my throat. It sounded like a mix between a growl and a purr. My gold eyes take in your form and a flash of emotion glimmers on my face but it is not the one you expect.

No admiration or fluster only a cruel sneer for only a second. I turn around heading back to the book I place a hand on it's worn cover my spine straightens and I regain my composure I grab my staff and speak the hiroglyphs my voice is a soft murmur and the glyphs burn red and gold mergirng and turning I step towards you. My voice is louder clearer but still fast as if reciting a prayer. With a wave of my staff the glyphs surround both of us and I step closer and look at you changing my language back to English as I speak "dijin... How do you wish to seal this contract? By wound, by blood, by union..."

I offer you my wrist or my neck the other option is vastly more intimate but it is the one that produces a most powerful bond between a scribe and their dijin. I look up at you softly my eyes soften as I speak my next words "or do you wish to seal it in a more powerful manner?"

[Damonique]

Finally, the priestess began the incantations, wearing an expression of triumph, years of exertion and pain in service of her unkind god finally leading to this moment, and it wasn't until now that she could finally relish in her victory. There was also something darker there, as well....a carelessness and cruelty that had been hidden until this moment, now that there was no going back. In that expression, Zefien realized that he had been played. Convinced by words and deeds, to embrace her offer, tricked into thinking it was by his own choice as much as hers.Zefien couldn't help but admit that she would have made a fine Djinni herself, so elegantly had it been done. She had so much more to gain from this than he...or so he thought.

The dormant magic bound within the pages of the weighty tome before her crackled to life, and Zefien gave an involuntary shudder as they glowing ring of glyphs swirled around them. More than just an pretty lights, there was a real power in those symbols that blazed in his second sight, warping and twisting the usually absolute nature of this reality into something more fluid, closer to the neither-here-not-there from whence he came. As the pale-haired priestess drew closer to him, so too did their very natures draw closer, attracted as if by magnetism. If he were to assign colors to their essences, it would be as if he were red and she blue, and the space between the was becoming violet.

He was shaken from that reverie by her words, after what felt like an eternity of letting that strange sensation wash over him, though surely it was only seconds. Yes, the medium of their joining...would he bestow a stigmata upon her body, place corruption within her blood or...yes, or...Sex was nothing to Zefien, simply another avenue of the mortals weakness, but all human magic came from their sparks of life, and all their lives began the same. Just as the Djinn were beings of air and fire, humans were of earth and water, woman's flesh and mans seed, and there was power there. Zefien cocked his head to the side, twisting his borrowed features into a lascivious smirk. He wondered if she would have preferred he had maintained the visage of Seth...surely there could be no greater joy for such a devoted disciple than to be ravaged by her god.

"Carnal pleasure, ecstasy and shame...that's the way you want it, then? I was right the first time, you are like le'Fay, whoring yourself out for power, no sin too great. But even she never fucked a demon...just her brother." He whispered, staring deeply into those gold eyes with as much contempt as he could muster. A parting insult, the least he could do to punish her for toying with him. And then he took hold of the hem of her fine linens and tore it from neckline to hip and tossing the tattered garment carelessly aside to see what exactly she was offering.

[yzaidkane]

I shiver at your words but only growl in answer "I told you my magic was that of carnal both pain and pleasure... And you are right... This body means very little to me... The magic in my words and the blood in my veins are what truly matter..."

As the clothing falls I only stand there my body curves and dips with what would have been considered very entising and beautiful. My voluptuous breast and hips are the same dark coppery color of my face and skin. My body is soft but also holds a ripple of muscle from the harsh training as well as scars. Sigyls and hiroglyphs carved oupon my skin in thin white lines so fine and well made that to the untrained eye they would have seem like tattoos. I am wearing simple undergarments unlike the flamboyance in my talk or the silver in my words.

"If you wanted me to strip you should have just asked" I laugh a bit it's soft but cold like a hunter that knows their prey is vulnerable. My gold eyes don't waver as they glow the red of the glyphs and the same red power that comes from years of training and harsh worship. I stand before you as if in offering like those that used to be given to your kind when the Pharaoh still lived.

[Damonique]

Zefien looked the priestess up and down as she stood before him, arms at her sides, back straight, supple breasts thrust forward, in the way the scribes of old would display their virgin sacrifices when trying to coerce his kind in days long past. It was an offering borne of tradition, the humans believing that what was enticing to their kind would be equally appealing to his. They were wrong, but it was the thought that counted, and such offerings were accepted in a million ways depending on the whims of the demon, usually with a wanton savagery meant to disturb and terrify the priests, reminding them a spirit's time was not to be taken lightly.

"Ask? What would be the fun in that, dearest 'Morgana'?" He intoned in a voice as soft as silk to fit the intimacy of this tryst, placing hands gently upon her shoulders, meaning to seperate the straps of the simple cream-colored brassiere that served to conceal those rich caramel breasts, but the moment his fingers made contact, Zefien shuddered. Not just the human guise he wore, but his very essence trembled, and the glowing glyphs around them shined ever brighter upon first contact, and he was stricken by a sudden wave of vertigo.

It was all he could do to grip her tighter for support as not to collapse, either to the knees of his human visage or entirely into an incorporeal state. His vision blurred, and for an instant he was seeing himself through her eyes, some effect of their essences already beginning to blur together, he could suddenly feel blood pumping through her veins, smell the wafting, heady scent of candles, incense, and old paper that filled the room. The bonding had already begun, now it was only a matter of how thoroughly it would be concluded.

An instant later, Zefien was himself again, but the afterimages of those human sensations he had just experiences remained in the background of his mind, and he tried to take a step back, recompose himself, irritated by the intolerable weakness he was showing...but it was impossible to do so, some unseen force pulling their physical forms together in the same manner the old magic mingled their essences. He grit his teeth, and forged ahead, hooking the straps in his fingers and gliding them over the dips of her shoulders and downward. The moment the garment was free of the tension provided by her ample bust, it fell free to tangle about her waist, but his attentions did not drift so far south as of yet.

Instead,he tried something,a tentative experiment with the newfound sensations being provided through her, placing a hand on the crook of her neck to tilt the priestess' head upwards, locking those deep amber-gold eyes in icy blues that were wide with amazement, bringing his lip to hers in order to indulge a curiosity about what the humans called 'taste'. It was an awkward, tentative kiss, like that of the fumbling virgin that, despite having existed for centuries uncounted, Zefien very much was.

[yzaidkane]

I can't help but smile noticing his unease. I smile taking the moment to place him on his knnes. My warm and soft hands holding on to your broad shoulders I already felt your essence and power but it was not enough. I finish to unclip my bra and discarded to the floor beyond the glyphs that now swarmed and hummed with the new power. I myself lower to kneel but so that I am still a few inches above you and I press my lips softly against your own. My pace is that of someone that has done this many times. My lips are soft and warm and taste like copper like blood from biting my cheek to keep from screaming.

"Let me take charge... For you do not have the experience" I smirk knowing I am correct and sensing how you wish to feel the mortal pleasures. My breast are perked from the coldness of the room my skin smells like coconut and spices so does my hair. These tease your new sense of smell. And my warm touch across your neck shoulders and chest feel like licks of flame against the cold of your skin.

I take your hands and place them on my shoulders shivering at how cold they feel. Goosebumps rise on the skin you touch but I also take a sharp breath at the coldness if battles with my warm fire that spark of life and flame in my eyes only burning brighter as they reflect your cold blue eyes.

[Damonique]

Reluctantly, Zefien allowed the priestess to pull him down to his knees, irked my the imposition but knowing that he was nearly helpless in her arms, owing to the sensory assault that even the barest touch ignited in his form. Things like temperature, though he understood it academically, in the sense of atoms and molecules speeding up and slowing down to try to keep pace with one another, were something else entirely when felt through a physical medium.

And then the taste of her lips, sweet and milky, a fruit...coconut, yes, her thoughts supplied. They parted, allowing the passage of tongues and the exchange of fluids, adding a new flavor into the mix. This one Zefien knew....blood. Iron, oxygen, water, a few other things in composition...but in taste, sharp and metallic, somewhere between bitter and sweet. His human tongue invaded her mouth, flicking across hers, and through her he could feel the bumpy textures catching slightly as one slid across the other, another unique tactile sensation.

Eagerly, his hands explored her form, one going behind her shoulder to rove across her back, eliciting small prickles of goosebumps where they touched. Apparently, Zefien was cold, though he knew that was something he could change at will, and considered doing so, but put it off for now, enjoying the contrast between living warmth and deathly cold. He trackled a finger slowly down the ridge of her spine to rest lightly at the small of her back and shivered as she did, letting out a short gasp against her lips.

These feelings and sensations...they were sublime. As perfect as he had thought his kind, this opened his eyes to something that they lacked....so rich in natural wisdom and power, but missing so much experience. If it were not for the pitifully short time they had to enjoy it, the humans would be truly perfect. Such musings were again interrupted as his other hand, that had been idly massaging her shoulder, dipped down across the gentle curvature of her right breast and brushed against the firm bud of a nipple, sending a wave of pleasure though their mingled essences, drawing forth a subdued moan. Regardless of the circumstances, the priestess' body had experience in such things, and knew what was coming. A sacrifice she may play, but definitely not a virgin one.

[yzaidkane]

As your hands travel along my spine I shiver and break the kiss resting my head on the crook of your neck. I decide to tease the skin there slightly nibbling sucking and licking before biting down on it with a bit more force. Enough that it would have pierced the skin of a human.

Who is to say who was more animalistic she radiated a wild sort of carnal pleasure that of humanities earlier days where it was as much blood and pain as pleasure and spit. I squirm a bit not being able to stop how good your touch makes me feel and even if I could I wouldn't. I will sacrifice much to achieve my goal but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy it as well.

"I believe someone is at a loss" I murmur against the skin of your neck and licking my lips once more. I move off you and you immediately feel the difference without my touch and body pressed against yours.

"sit with your legs crossed dijin..." My voice is still soft but it has lost it's formalitie and it's also sounding more carnal and sweet. I stand in front of you awaiting for you to obey.

A trickle of fluids accumulates in my underwear. A sign of how I am enjoying your touch and ministrations but I also enjoy the dominance you have allowed me. Something behind my eyes shines with an animalistic need and urge that I can barely keep away from my mind. Pleasure. Pleasure. My mind my body my essence craves it. It craves the carnal pleasure of skin on skin.

[Damonique]

Zefien basked in the wonderment of sensation as she explored his form, through the trickle of thoughts from the priestess' mind he could tell his choice of borrowed form was not unpleasing to her eye, with curls of sand-blonde hair and roguish good looks of the young Scythian 'godspeaker' as arousing to her as they had been to the damsels of his day.

But all of that business was in the past, and the Djinn's attention was firmly in the present, indulging in the taste and feel of the priestesses skin against his, applying what knowledge of nerves and senses she passed to him through thought and memory to give context to the sensation of her hot breath on his neck, the scrape of her teeth against his skin was intended to elicit, bringing forth shudders and gasps that mirrored the needful mewls and squirms that she tried so hard and failed to keep in check.

And then you pull back, the sudden separation from your soft form eliciting a flash of surprise, blue eyes opening wide, and then an expression of disappointment, almost a rueful pout playing across my features, immediately, almost instinctively reaching forward to reinstate that welcome closeness, before your words reach me...now your giving me orders, something with which I am familiar, but never in such a context. The words are like honey, prompting rather than demanding, and I relent, scooting back and crossing my legs.

This action further exposes the manhood that not long before had been simply an afterthought to me, created solely to remain true to model, and perhaps fluster you a bit for playfulness sake, but was now the sole focus of your unbound desire. My own arousal feeds off of yours, the tension in your core, the growing slickness between your legs, and elicits the usual response men have to such bewitchment. It was unusual, involuntary...but not unwelcome.

[yzaidkane]

I look down at your pout and I tilt your head up "if you wish something ask... Don't just pout like a child..." I roll my eyes scolding you softly. I sit in your lap and wrapped my legs around you my eyes glow with desire and self control. I lick my lips and grab your hair softly as I kiss you once again now able to press my body even more against you. I kiss your jaw and scrape my teeth along your jaw. I am slow wanting to torture your new senses. My hands play with your muscles softly wanting you to voice what you wish from me.

My skin is warm and glimmers in the candle light and glow of the golden glyphs. My curly hair is messy and Stark white against the dark skin. If you tried to pass your hands through it your fingers would have been tangled in it.

Up close my skin is copper and beautiful and warm almost like velvet. I nudge you softly and continue to kiss your neck softly and my nails scratch softly against your chest and back. "Tell me dijin ..."

My next words surprise you.

"What do YOU wish"

[Damonique]

I shudder in appreciation as you move to straddle me, reigniting both the electric hum of unseen magic reacting in the air between our forms, and the more worldly sensations of your breasts pressing against my torso, soft as velvet and slick with sweat, again borrowing your experiences I can feel the sharp tingle in my scalp where your fingers tangle in my hair, smoothing down the curls. Your words, mocking as they may be, are forgotten in an instant.

I feel your kisses becoming more fervent, and respond in kind, tongue exploring your mouth and twisting about yours with more confidence now, eyes closed to relish in the taste and texture. Until now, I had no idea why humans bothered with such pointless exchange of fluids, chalking it up to yet another of their unfathomable oddities, but after experiencing it, I wonder how you didn't spend your ever waking moment at such play. And that was merely kissing...there was so much more to explore...

I do not sweat or pant as a mortal man would, nor even require breath, but still I gasp as you settle settle deeper into my lap, the thin linen of your undergarments doing little to mitigate the heat and moisture radiating from your womanhood, tantalizingly close the the length between my legs. Though your essence, I fell the stirring of that primal need to sow the sparks of new life in your young and fertile body. With such short lives, the humans had a need to replace themselves frequently, and so their creator had placed so much incentive for them to do so within their minds and forms.

When you parted the kiss to ask what I wanted....I considered the question, perplexed. If only you knew how deeply I felt what you felt, that the only thing I could possible want at this exact moment was more, more of everything, more touch, more taste, more pleasure. For have every nuance and detail of these sensations explored and understood, I tried to answer, but at first managed only a hungry growl from the base of my throat, something primal from your subconscious, before finally finding the words.

"I want what you promised, priestess. Your pleasure and pain, ecstasy and shame....I want everything." At the thought of pain, I decided to explore something else, trailing a hand down to your left breast, where the copper skin was marred and reddening from the burn I had left in punishing you before, and squeezing the tender flesh there, turning the dull ache into a searing pain that burned through the both of us. It was a feeling of weakness, vulnerability...but combined with the still-growing arousal, it was something else and even more intense. I wrap my arms around you tightly, and my face in the soft white hair that falls gently about your neck to steel myself against the pain and pleasure that course through me in alternating waves, choking back what are almost whimpers.

Now I knew why those Dijin in the Neither who had gone down this path spoke so little of how it felt. There was a real shame in this, for an immortal and sublime being such as they to be brought so low by the same human vulnerabilities that we so derided, but the shame, for all it stung, still could not compare to the intense enjoyment that even the harshest sensations elicited.

[yzaidkane]

I smile at your reactions yet your growl surprises me. I let out a small whimper of fear but with that fear only comes more arousal. I swallow softly as I feel your hands exploring my body. My next words come as a surprise to you.

"Then dijin... Take as much as you wish... But remember... I will ask you for the same... I want to taste your power, relish in my humanity and I will thiumph with your power..." My words are sweet like honey but sharp as well. It is not a threat but a promise. Now that we are bonding you can feel my emotions even those I try to hide. My fear and insecurity always in the back of my mind, when you grab my breast I don't hiss but instead moan the pain turning into pleasure rather quickly.

I pull on your hair and bring my mouth down against yours my lips crash against yours hungrily I bite on your lip and explore your mouth more sloppily and desperate. Then I bare my neck to you a sign of trust and submission as I give into my instinct and pleasure.

"Take... Take as much as you like dijin" my voice is breathy and lustful "but be expected to please as well" I grind against you softly my thin fabric doing little to hide my lust and need. I grind against you softly your manhood hard against my provocative touch.

[Damonique]

I was shaken from the fog of ecstasy clouding my mind by your words that reminded me who you were. A snake charmer, a temptress, a mortal of unrestrained ambition and an insatiable thirst for power. That was what you truly wanted, to harness the unrestrained capacity for creation and destruction that came as easy to my kind as breathing did to yours. As you spoke the word triumph, images flashed into my mind.

Cities burning, armies swept aside, all those who had wronged and underestimated you dying in agony, lines of supplicants kneeling as you sit upon a golden throne, as if a god yourself, beautiful and terrible. And myself beside you, Zefien the Djinni, your demon and destroyer. A humble servant, pet and plaything, weapon and tool all at once, these were only ideas, imagined possibilities rather than complete plans, but the intention was clear. This sin is not offered cheaply, but for the promise of the world itself. And with the ambition came a name.

"Jezebel...." I whisper in a breathy hiss, breaking the impassioned kiss and give up the chill of air to embrace the other side of my nature, that of fire, destruction, and change. If it's power you wish, I'll show you power. My body temperature rises to match and then far exceed even the heat of your arousal, and as you bare your tender throat to me as if in offering, the handsome face I wear contorts into a savage grin, and then dissolves. It served well enough for tender kissing and exploration, but the time for that is over, and in it's place arise again the features of the Jackal, pointed ears, soft ebony fur, and a maw of teeth that are straight, white, and so very sharp. The visage of your god but for those ever-present ice-blue eyes that seem to bore into your soul.

"...Try not to die." I state with finality, and relish in your moment of fear and exhilaration upon realizing the implications, just as my jaws snap shut, sharply enough to draw blood but just tenderly enough not to take your fragile life in an instant. Despite the pain, the way the soft fur nuzzles against your shoulder is intimate and comforting, if only for a moment, before you find yourself flat on your back, pinned down by inhuman strength, myself crouched over you like a predator on wounded prey. The teeth part, letting fresh blood trickle free to seep into the soft rug on which you lay, and a rough canine tongue laps against the wound.

A hand trails down agonizingly slowly, pausing to to fondle a pert breast, tweaking a nipple to send another wave of ecstasy through our joined essences before resuming it's slow trail over a muscular abdomen, around the button of your navel, and then following the trail of fine hairs standing on end that lead the way to your most sensitive place, each millimeter, each second is filled with the sublime agony of anticipation. Had I known that this was only a prelude to what came next, perhaps I would have hurried, but each sensation was new and exciting amplified by your yearning.

By time those teasing fingers finally reach them, your panties are thoroughly drenched, matted together and stuck to your skin by the nectar of your arousal, and squeezed out to coat my fingers as I roughly take a handful and literally tear them aside with unworldly strength, tossing the ruined garment careless aside, and a moment later, those fingers are probing at your lips to slip between them in the midst of a moan, so I can indulge in yet another unknown taste.

[yzaidkane]

As you shift form my eyes widen and when you bite on my neck I whimper and moan. The moment my blood touches your form you feel more and are more grounded into your humanity. You have more of a distinction between your thoughts and my own.

And now you have to concentrate to feel my emotions but with your jackal head you can scent something very clearly. My arousal and need, for it is no longer desire but now has turned into a need for carnal pleasure.

My own hands explore your new features my nails dragging along the soft fur. As the temperature rises I don't seem to mind as your hands move in an agonizingly slow fashion I whimper and shiver trying to get more contact with ingredients to get more contact. "Mnhhh... Hurry"

My slick wetness is slowly dripping to the carpet and when you pleca your fingers inside me I can only moan. My insides are warm and tight and soft, they are slick with wettness as well. Your fingers slide in rather easily. And you get some moans and mewls from me. I want more, I will always want more.

[Damonique]

Each droplet of your blood that passes my lips seems to ground me in this plane, as if I am literally drinking all it is to be human from your veins. Taste, touch and scent all flaring to life. The sensation is strange, making me feel both lesser and more than I was before, but there is little time to dwell on that, though, as you cry out in urgency and need for the sweet release you've been promised by my touch.

I draw my dripping fingers from your molten core and raise them to my lips, lapping a long tongue across them in a way that is suggestive even despite my inhuman features, to let your distinctly feminine flavor mingle with that of the blood on my teeth, releasing a hiss of appreciation between them. And then my eyes narrow and track down to take in the sight of the impressive tool with which I've endowed myself standing at attention.

After several graceless thrusts that miss their mark owing to my utter inexperience, that serve only to grind the tip of my manhood teasingly against your entrance, I let out a growl of frustration and slam your shoulders roughly into the carpet to still your squirming, and carefully guide myself into your drenched slit. Experienced or no, your are still as tight as a silk glove, and each and every inch you yield elicits a hitch in my breathing and sound between a moan and a purr.

There are no words to describe the feeling when I'm finally buried to the hilt against your womb, and I pause there to relish in the sublime sense of completion I feel simply being inside of you, the rapid pace of the blood coursing through your veins, the humid furnace of you core, and most of all, the pleading, mewling sounds you make as your small, hot body squirms helplessly beneath me.

My lips form the closest approximation to a savage grin that can be managed in a canine maw, and my blue eyes narrow. You wish to be an untouchable goddess, but here, in this moment, your little more than a bitch in heat. Which of us is the slave here? Not I. I draw out my length with an agonizing slowness, missing the heat already, and wait to hear you beg.

[yzaidkane]

I moan and mewl whineing to the absence of your member deep inside me. "No... More..." My words are but an sigh as they leave my mouth my hands trail to play with my own body desperate fror release.

"If you won't satisfy me then I'll do it myself" I moan and curse as I touch myself. Fingers pumping into my warm wetness and my hands playing with my breast. The sight is arousing and sexual made even more so by the lust in my eyes and the sound of my mewls.

I want pleasure and if you won't give it to me then I'll give it to myself. I rub my clit as I moan and arch my back my experienced hands knowing exactly where to touch and tease. I look at you through heavy and lustful eyelids. "Do you wish to join me dijin? Or do I finish myself off?"

[Damonique]

"You impudent little witch, ungrateful mortal...." The string of curses and insults I mean to vent in sudden fury at your coy refusal to play my game is suddenly as your skilled fingers set to work, sending renewed waves of pleasure through my form, eliciting shudders and moans that mirror your own, almost humorous coming from a form I have sculpted to be fightening and powerful but is helpless against this.

Finally you, grant a momentary respite to make your mocking invitation, and I seize upon it, encircling both of your narrow wrists in one powerful hand and forcing them up and away from your core, pinning your arms roughly above you head. My eyes are full of as much malice as desire as they bore into your golden orbs, but the wicked smile that remains on your lips as I plunge into you with more savagery than skill tells me I've done exactly as you wish, played into your hand once again.

I lay into you, picking up the pace, burying myself to the hilt inside of you only to draw back and do it again, finally finding a rhythm to maintain with inhuman stamina until finally your reach the climax you had already been drawing yourself towards from the moment this had begun, riding out your pleasure over several long minutes of perfect orgasm, hips bucking, core muscles contracting in waves around my member. Your ecstasy feeds into mine own, and my iron grips weakens, lips parting in a silent scream.

As my release comes, what floods your womb is not the fluid seed of man, but the refined essence of Djinn, weightless and shapeless, accompanying by a burning sensation that ripples outward through your body. Despite my rough treatment, the savage pounding, the bruises and bites, as it washes over you, pain disappears, replaced with an intoxicating sense of completion, limitless energy and possibility. Finally, you experience what it is like to be Dijin, taste the nectar of our power and freedom.

There's a electric crackle in the air, the smell of ozone burning as the shining glyphs that illuminate our writhing forms vanish, leaving us in darkness, the candles long since burned out, and I roll of of you to lay on my back, panting as I stare up at the ceiling, feeling something else new. Exhaustion. Weakness. The other side of the human coin, the price they pay for passion and sensation.

I wonder idly if it was truly worth it, to give up a piece of my perfection in trade for indulging in your mind and body, but as my spirit reaches across the tether that binds our spirits, I feel that piece of me still there, blazing brightly within you, getting accustomed to it's new mortal home.

[yzaidkane]

You can sense the contempt you can also see it on my features. I grab your arm and hug you closely "you are the best fuck toy I have had so far..." I smile and place my head on your chest slightly panting after that relentless fucking and orgasm.

You see my eyes drooping as I slowly fall into slumber very little actually being said but you feel it you feel the emotions that plague my mind. Too many all too fast for someone unused to it it would be dizzying as you try to make up every emotion and every thought. I instead sleep curled up against you in the carpet that has my blood my spit my sweat and my cum. You feel my magic seeping away slowly not all at one time as if it wished to stay. My amulet now glows with my newfound power and my chest slowly rises and falls.

To you everything is new and different the rough feeling of the carpet and the smell of dust and yellowing pages even me my soft curly hair now thrown on your chest and the weight of my head against it.

[Damonique]

"A toy, am I? Hopefully you won't tire of this plaything, because I'm here to stay." I State with a smirk, too tired to quarrel over your dismissiveness. You'll come to see my value in time, once you start testing your newfound potential.

Your thoughts are muddled and unreadable as your furious panting begins to subside, and your breathing evens out. You twist to lay against me tenderly, drawn to the warmth I still radiate in waves, better than a crackling fire, and settle into a deep sleep, a content smile upon your lips.

I shift easily into the shape of a large white tiger, with fur soft as down for you to nuzzle against, and watch you for a while.

Never in my eternity did I imagine finding myself in such a compromising position with a human, nor for a summoner to be able to rest so easily, your vulnerable throat scant inches from my fanged maw. Instead if doing you harm though, I lean over to tentatively lick a few droplets of blood from the wound, relishing in the grounding sensation that accompanies the coppery taste.

I do not sleep, not quite so mortal as that, but I do rest, lulled by the gentle rise and fall of your chest and the steady thump-thump of your heartbeat. When you awake you find me still there, considering you with glimmering feline eyes.

[yzaidkane]

I pet your soft fur and snuggle against it "so fluffy..." My voice is not as cold instead it sounds almost childish in it's tone. I hug you softly "so warm..." I yawn again before deciding I'm no longer tired.

I stand and stumble a bit at the discomfort from your ravishing fuck. I decide to go to bathe "I'm taking a bath... Want to join?" I look rather sleepy and I begin to stretch my bones and muscles popping and cracking from my uncomfortable sleep on the floor.

I turn on the lights to the room hissing slightly as my eyes adjust to the light. Even now my thoughts and emotions are muddled but not sluggish from the moment I woke my brain is observing and planning and thinking.

[Damonique]

I'm once again surprised by the mercurial nature of humans, your usually cold and distant facade melting as you cuddle up to my new, plush form.

Your voice is soft, carefree, and almost innocent, so different from the confident priestess that had summoned me here, or the utterly sexual creature that welcomed a vicious fucking by a demon. Yet all these facets bear the same face, the same name, Jezebel. It suits you better than Morgana

At your mention of a bath, I smirk and wrinkle my nose at the cloying smell of stale sweat, clotting blood and tour drying nectar. To my senses, none of these are unpleasant, in fact, the heady mixture seems as if the refined smell of all it is to be human. Sweat, blood, and cum. But it seems less pleasing to you.

"Don't you know? Cats aren't fond of water." I say teasingly at your offer to join in, and stand, first upon your legs, then two as I take the shape of the sharp-eyed and handsome scythian godspeaker.

[yzaidkane]

"you are no cat ... You are my dijin" their is a possessiveness to my voice I offer you my hand as I walk to the bath. I yawn again and I sit on the bathtub turning on the water and pulling you down with me so I'm sitting on your lap in the tub.

"I need a good strong cup of coffee... I'm worn out ..." I yawn and relax in the warm water.

[Damonique]

"The two are very similar pets to keep, truth be told. Willful, lazy, difficult to please and liable to bare their claws and fangs at the slightest provocation." I answer, not failing to note the touch of possessiveness in your tone as you pull me easily into the steaming water, positioning yourself teasingly between my legs.

At your mention of a cup of coffee, I place a hand upon the white porcelain rim of the tub, and my incorporeal fingers sink into it, drawing them out gingerly holding a cup formed of that selfsame material, placing the vessel under the faucet to fill to the brim with ordinary water.

Between your knowledge of the brews flavor and consistency, and the profound understanding I possess of the inner workings of reality, atoms and molecules, it's a trifling thing to let a few droplets of my silvery essence drip from my fingers into the cup, turning the water a deep nut-brown on contact, and there's a flash of fire in my hand that sets the liquid to steaming, filling the room with the aroma of coffee and cream.

I offer you the cup with a flourish, looking quite pleased with myself despite how mundane a miracle I've worked. When you reach for the cup, though, I draw it back out of you reach.

"What do you say, Jezebel, when your treasured Djinni offers you a kindness without so much as being asked?" I ask in a playful tone, enjoying our game of roles and reversals. I'll play your tool and weapon in trade for the pleasures you offer, but I am still a proud denizen of the neither beyond, and wish to be shown respect for my powers.

[yzaidkane]

I laugh "I will have you know... You are a lot more difficult to maintain than a simple house cat or even a wild one as for baring your fangs and claws that is something everything does... From the men to the scribes and I guess we got it from you dijins ... As for stubborn... We will see"

When the Brew fills the bathroom with it's aroma I can't help but smile. "Oh thank you my great and loyal dijin... I bow to your might!" You don't fail to notice the sarcasm dripping in my voice.

I go to grab the tub straddling you in the process "now gimme!" I am trying to take the ceramic cup from you.

[Damonique]

Your overblown show of thanks was sarcastic, of course, as it was always going to be, but the fact that you even bothered was enough to stroke my ego just the slightest bit, eliciting a self-satisfied smile.

"I wonder if you got it from dijin, or we got it from you. No one really knows when the first contact was between your kind and mine. A few dijin claim to be the first to be called here, but we're all liars anyway." I remark with a self-depricating smirk, and let you wriggle and strain for a moment before finally giving up the cup, settling back into the water as I do.

As you your first sip and relax, taking in the flavor, I let out a heavy sigh myself, wrapping my arms about your slim waist under the water and basking in the sensation of skin-to-skin contact, keeping my body temperature high enough to create a Corona of heat around the both of us.

"So, Jezebel, if I am to carry out your will, I'd best know what it is. Your own magic was already formidable, for a mortal. What difficulties do you mean to face that require the fullness of my glory" I ask, raising an eyebrow. I knew the who, and some of the why, but very little about precisely what.

[yzaidkane]

"if I told you I haven't gotten that far do you believe e me?" I look up from my cup with a sheepish smile my face beating up from shame.

"I didn't even think a dijin would answer my call... And less so in my capability to bond with one..." I drink from the cup humming as the coffee hits my tongue it is black spiced coffee with a ton of sugar. The drink as deceving as me you expect it to be bitter yet it is very sweet and smooth when you down it.

You can feel how my words are true I did not think I was going to be able to do such feat or even survive it if I did summon you.

[Damonique]

At the flush of embarrassment seeps into your features, I can't help but give an amused chuckle. So this is what the brave and dangerous priestess is truly like, without formality. Despite ability and ambition, still very much a naive girl under the facade. Still, it's a breath of fresh air to have a summoner who doesn't yet know exactly what they want....a novelty, and an opportunity to mold and channel that potential.

"I suppose if I had simply killed your outright when I had the chance, it would have made any further planning quite a waste. And now that you have me, the possibilities are endless." I say with a wicked smile, already setting the well-oiled wheels of my mind a-spinning. I was a Djinni free to roam the mortal world, without a strict compact restraining my actions. Many of my less sophisticated brethren would take at as an opportunity to wreak wanton destruction just for the sheer fun of destroying in a heartbeat what humans had toiled their lives away to build. And killing was itself a visceral joy.

Djinni did not die, the idea of a finite lifespan was quite alien to us, and I found myself convinced that it was the root cause of both the best and worst of humanity, that they were always racing against the clock to make something of themselves before the end caught them. Snuffing out their candles early always had came with a sense of exhilarating power. But I am not so simplistically minded, and have no desire to let this once-a-millennia opportunity be cut too short with rash action.

"So, you lack a plan...but you did have the book. That's a rare piece, it was thought in the neither that such knowledge had been destroyed or at least deeply buried long ago. While I have little doubt the Per Ankh couldn't bring itself to let the surviving wisdom of your gods vanish, I do wonder how a Scribe of such inexperience and disposition got her hands on such a thing." I continued, casually massaging a pert breast as I spoke with unconcealed curiosity, not forgetting make a small slight at your own ego in hopes of prompting a reaction.

[yzaidkane]

I shiver at your touch slightly but send you a glare.
"I stole it... For your information... I hate the Per Ankh... They are nothing but old fools scared of their own shadows... Scared of their own power..."

"Only us in the darkest branches remember... Our God has not abandoned us... He is in the pain and pleasure of leaving in the heat of fire and in the desert sands..." I speak boldly and try to regain my composure.

"As for you... You need to learn... The world has changed..." I smile a bit as I keep drinking from my cup

"Question my lovely little dijin... Can you make an endless supply of coffee? Or will that have to stay in my best dreams..."

[Damonique]

I took these revelations in stride, despite some of it being quite surprising, such as a daughter of Egypt, a scribe of any sect speaking ill of the House of Life.....something that would have been unthinkable last I saw the world. But ah, how the mighty fall, it was the way of mortals. The strong grow fat and lazy with their power, and the weak rise to eat them. Quaint.

"Your world always changes. Your kind always change. It's what you do, while we Dijin remain eternal. There's very little that would surprise me. I hurried the end of proud Babylon. Saw Rome at it's birth, then it's height, then it's violent end. I built temples in old Khmer that still stand, if lonely and lifeless now, the monks long gone." I said in haughty answer to your bold words. Every human seemed to think the era they lived in was the golden one, that they were sitting on the tipping point of the future. And they were right, but only because the future was being changed each and every day.

"Coffee, really? You have the wisdom of an eternity at your beck and call, and you wish to speak of aromatic beverages? Very well, child. The short answer is yes, if I felt like it. We could be bathing in the stuff right now if you so desire. But the better answer is why? Take that cup in your hand. It's the perfect blend, is it not? Tailored exactly to your palate. But the more you drank, the less you would appreciate it. No matter how good it is, you would eventually desire something else." I explained with a smile. It was one of the great follies of summoners, who thought happiness could be found with simply enough of something, be it gold or women or wine. Excess was the bane of excitement, and such requests were often the easiest to twist to ones masters sorrow.

[yzaidkane]

"it is not for taste... More for the caffeine found within it... Plus let lying dogs lie... I do not believe this is the best era and I will not try to create it either... You are here... More than anything else for my amusement a proof of how my magic has grown... And the downfall of the house of life? It will come in due time... But I don't wish revenge..." I speak softly as I keep drinking from the mug.

My voice is that of a snake charmer once more. Soothing and sweet but worthless as well. You can see the cold facade slowly place itself back on my features and posture. I even hold the cup differently. "If I told you... Why I summoned you... And the reasons behind it... Would you still wish to follow me down this rabbit hole?"

I look up at you my fingers holding the mug and you can see the liquid in it. It reflects my face in it's glossy surface but most of all it is my eyes that skite out the golden orbs burn with sweltering flame.

[Damonique]

Your words puzzled me, seeming to dismiss every possibility I had already considered that would make you desperate enough to take the risks required to attain my services, and as you continued, the tension between us suddenly became cooler, and I couldn't help but reflect that more physically. There was a flash of steam as the fingers that idly toyed with your supple right breast became freezing to the touch, a cold to reflect the cold in your eyes.

"Well now you have me intrigued, Jezebel.....what could the object of your hearts desire be, that you think even a demon would spurn you if it were voiced?" I inquire, wearing a smirk that is impassive, but truly expecting to be disappointed. Humans are always expecting my kind to be more like them, to react emotionally to the statement of plain facts.

"I am not faint of heart. In fact, I lack one, and you've already committed yourself to a depth of sin that no human would forgive. So out with it, dearest priestess, what scares you so?" I continue, admiring that fire in you eyes, though, and the promise it holds. There's little you won't do to retain my interest after putting so much into acquiring it in the first place, and I let my cock stiffen to perk up carelessly between you caramel thighs, under the water.

Partly it's simply to throw you off-kilter, perhaps elicit a blush to crack that stoic facade you wear. And also it's a reminder of what you've already bargained away on your end of this arrangement. If you think whatever you say will be enough to dissuade my interest, you'll be keeping your end of the deal, even if I decide not to lift a finger to aid you.

[yzaidkane]

"I wish... I wish to reaveal to the world what it has forgotten... I wish to bring forth the magic and wisdom the house has kept quiet for centuries... I wish for the rest of my kind to know if the wonders of magic... But that will make me have many enemies... Even amongst those close to me..."

I do not blush or get fazed only shivering slightly at your colder touch to my bare breast. I turn so my back is to you the movement causing my thighs to rub against your now hardening member. Like I would be embarrassed by something that I have done thousand times. "I don't find shame in the carnal pleasures I enjoy..."

I drink some more coffee. I am thinking my other hand swirling in the water carelessly. My cold demeanor stays not being swayed or fazed by your attempts or words.

[Damonique]

I listen to your words, your ambition, and cease my careless caresses and teasing, my eyes become thoughtful, lips curling into an implacable line. You were right to be wary of revealing such a desire, as it goes far beyond anything I could have expected, seeking to breach the very line between Man and Dijin...just as we have, but on a grander scale.

"Do you know what you truly ask? The Per Ankh may be made up of fools and cowards, but their fears are not without substance. With knowledge of magic comes knowledge of Dijin, of the neither, and the spells and pacts used to bind my kind to your will.....to make such power freely available to the multitudes of humanity would be....well, unwise, at the least....and at the worst..an invitation to utter destruction." I explain, sitting to lend more impetus to my words. If our conversation had cooled previously, now it was downright frozen, and I made that clear with further manipulation of my temperature, the water steaming wherever it touches my skin and send goosebumps down your spine.

"And that is only what it would mean for you humans, and your world. What of my kind? What you call for would lead to a mass enslavement of my kind, eclipsing even the days when the pharaoh lived. Still...you say your world has changed over the centuries. Do you believe it has changed enough to treat our power, our beings, with the respect they deserve?" I continue, interest still piqued by the passion and fire lying behind you eyes. You truly believe this can be done, that it should be done. But is it the naive hope of a dreamer, or something more?

[yzaidkane]

"I do not think they will know of your kind... I had a hell of a time just finding the book... The knowledge of you kind and the summonings are kept secret. Even amongst us scribes... I went through a great deal of trouble... And don't worry... The pieces are already in play... I have made sure of such"

My demeanor matches your own my face cool and calculating and my playful and warm nature almost completely vanishing underneath the cool facade. I know what I ask but I wouldn't ask for it without giving it thought. I had calculated and estimated many outcomes... This was just the easiest method.