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View character profile for: Celestia Valentine Windsor
View character profile for: Randel Cartwright
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-Dalen Capital, Truffle Pig, Later Evening 2 DSTR-
Celestia continued to listen to him, but keep her eyes scanning outside of the carriage. Her thoughts carried towards Verden; she wondered when she would be able to escape the grips of Dalen and try new territory. Glancing over at him as he spoke about being her ‘real question’. There was no real question for her to ask, as she was making flighty conversation to pass time.
She smirked at the comments following his announcement of being an ex-bard. “History is very clear, you are correct, but it is never recorded without passion or prejudice.” She nodded at his knowledge regarding the circular seasons of history. It was true! There was famine, then war, then a minority group would come out being as oppressed, ‘victory’ follows, a time of economic peace and prosperity ensue, and then someone drops the ball- inviting famine.
Resting her head back she giggled at his ongoing assumptions about her demonic center. Waving him off- she chose to ignore the obtrusive monologue. Feeling the carriage role to a stop, she looked out the window before being helped out. Submitting to those that lead her to the watering hole, she stiffened at the feeling of a strangers touch being wrapped around her. Looking down at the lady, she offered a tight smile and nodded in acknowledgment of the gesture.
Celestia took a seat where she was essentially told, and leaned forward on the table. The flame from the candles placed on the table cast playful shadows on her pale skin. Her gold orbs glanced over at them with a longing, and with a memory of the most recent times that she had sat near a fire.
“You never answered my questions.”
Looking up through her lashes, she waited for him to finish opening the bottle of wine, and pour her a glass, before she took the time to nod and shrug. Pulling the wine glass towards her side of the table, she put the cold rim to her lips, and sipped slowly. Moaning at the pleasure of wine flowing down her throat, she placed the glass on the table and sighed. “I didn’t answer your questions because, largely, your assumptions are half wrong. Well I suppose they weren’t truly assumptions, but shallow intel you grabbed at only spending a partial night with me.” Taking another sip, Celestia pulled at her loose bun, which allowed her red waves to rest at her shoulders.
She, in fact, did have a mark of being bound to Him. It was low and between her shoulder blades. The dress only revealed to higher part of her back to the crowds, so there would be no inclination of anyone knowing. The rune symbolizes instinctual will; a reminder that Celestia chose to be the capsule for the demon within her. It also is a rune that symbolizes malice, hatred, torment, spite, and lies. These feelings or actions are at Celestia’s will, and she has never felt guilt for doing them- outside of her most recent experience.
“I am two beings at once. There is me, Circe, and then there is Him. We are bound together until my death. I am as good as the real thing- you could say!” She grabbed a slice of cheese that was sitting in front of her and shrugged. “We are the King of the demons. He is the son of Lucifer himself. A tempter of the finer things, mostly through sexual desire. Hence, prostitution being a favorite of mine. I have access to all of the magic of Hell if I so desire to use it, and I can use my own element of fire.”
Celestia smirked as a woman began to appear to take an order of food.
“As far as how we are bound, only a man who has kissed every inch of my skin would know where it is located.”