The Fox, The Priest, and The Hooker [Hessat | Starling]

places, places

— get in your places —

✧ and put on your doll faces

[attr="class","scrolls"]Not for the first time had Hessat found it unreasonably entertaining the things that humans spent their money on. For as many complaints and hardships a man had they seemed to boast an equal number of vices to compound upon their already pitiful existence. It was as if they believed satisfying personal depravities would somehow absolve everything else that dogged their steps. It’d be cute if it weren’t so fucking stupid.

Like seriously, what made them think getting their dick wet or drinking their weight in ale would lessen the burdens they tried so avidly to outrun?

He’d never understand men. But that wasn’t to say he didn’t understand their money.

The mid-afternoon sun bore down on the ornate archway that sat outside the Saint’s Pleasure, lazily rolling a pair of gems in his palm. The previous night had been productive enough, he hadn’t actually had to do more than show up, bat his eyes and lead client after client into a prepared room before casting an illusion. If there was one merit to being a purple clansman it was definitely the particular flavor of their aura.

Hessat was a manipulator, a wordsmith, a con, however you wanted to dress it he made a killing on deceiving the people around him and maneuvering them across the board like game pieces. Being able to conjure tangible illusions was stupidly useful, especially when he wasn’t barred from using his powers on customers.

What? Did you think he wanted to fuck every slobbering peasant that wanted to share his bed? Ha, no, even whores had standards and his tended to be higher than most. He did his job. He gave them exactly what they paid for – the illusion that they could have him. And each one of them left the bedrooms a satisfied customer, not knowing he’d sat in a chair and read a book while they vented their lusts on his likeness. Now Hessat stretched idly on the wooden beam, basking in his own cunning and already prepping his next deception.

Starling was always a source of entertainment for the violet-eyed courtesan and it paid to make the boy wonder what was real in his environment. The lad should still be at the blacksmith at this hour but would hopefully break for lunch soon. His fellow strain would be so surprised to see Hessat’s new modifications. He’d noticed that a few others like them had animal features, ears, tails and horns and had been curious as to what that might do for him. And so on a whim, as many of his games were, he’d fashioned a pair of dark, pointed ears atop his head and gone the extra mile to add a tail too. So far he’d received a number of baffled looks and had pretended not to notice them, smirking internally at those who passed him by.

One of his new ears twitched – he couldn’t actually hear anything from them, his powers didn’t work quite that well, but they responded to sound nonetheless and right now they were picking up on someone’s shouting.

Peering down from the arch he spied a peculiar sight. Some white-haired gentleman shouting his lungs out for – go figure – Starling, but even more interesting than that were his mumbled pleas for salvation. Odd. Hessat waited for him to pass under the archway before he announced himself. “That’s a little harsh, Father.” He hummed, all traces of arrogance wiped from his features, leaving him wide-eyed and curious as he watched Lucifer. “I mean hellish I can understand but filth is a bit cruel, wouldn’t you say?”

— template made by roar —

WORDS

000

TAGGED

HESSAT MALIK-GUHANI STARLING SATHE

NOTES

N/A

"Hnn...?" The golden-eyed man would stop where he was beneath the archway, soon looking upward with an open eye towards the source of the disembodied voice. It seemed that for how empty the place seemed, Lucifer was not alone. Then again, he could recall a number of occasions where he had confirmed that he was never truly alone. No surprise that this would be no different. The voice belonged to what could possibly be a young man, if not for the vague trace of feminine tones behind it. Lucifer truly did dislike surprises, at least, in terms of those he could not see from first glance. However, seeing as he had not yet been ambushed by anyone or anything, he would at least humor the person and hold conversation for a spell.

"Harsh? Perhaps. Then again, I suppose it really would all depend on the company held within this...fine establishment." he would reply with a bit of a hiss through his teeth. No matter how hard he may try, he was not one to withhold the truth on many matters unless it was absolutely necessary. Granted, to retrieve Starling from this hell hole of a business was indeed absolutely necessary, and yet...he is unable to hide the disdain he holds for such a thing as a brothel. Sometimes it was a wonder just how well his training as an assassin sunk in...

"Please, won't you come out so we may converse face-to-face? I mean to bring no trouble, just here to fetch a Brother of mine. He has a bad habit of wandering off from his duties to the Church, you see..." he would say with a sheepish smile and an equal tone in his voice, a hand coming up to lazily rub at his lower jaw. A normal gesture among most people when speaking of a matter that reflected in a tad embarrassing light. Consider where he was, he would have to play the innocent pastor from another city in such a way. Not that he really minded, of course. The sooner he could fetch his Clansmen and leave, the better.

All the while as he masked his true intentions, his eyes would wander over the space where he stood, trying to see if anything out of the ordinary stood out to him. Sadly, nothing really grabbed his attention, leaving the priest stuck for the time being with...who, or whatever he was speaking with.