What Happens in Vegas ... Deus ...

[crisgraves]

The demon stirred her little tumbler full of pink with an index finger and then stuck it in her mouth. The black jack dealer was watching her, the men on both sides of her watching, even the blonde bombshell across the way. Maybe jealous, maybe she was into that sort of thing…
Cris looked at her cards and then twisted her bright red lips to the side, acting clueless as to how to play Blackjack. Her lashes were long and she was really working them. She kept looking at them from underneath those lashes and huffing in uncertainty. They suspected she was a beginner to the game, and maybe she -was- a novice playing the frighteningly boring human pastime, but the game she was playing had only just begun.

She chewed on her lower lip, cinnamon eyes narrowed at the dealer’s hand. She moved her cards side by side, (they were two aces), and nodded her head to him.
“Double down..” She told him in a slow guileless drawl; and the rest of the table inhaled simultaneously; shocked by her sudden comprehension.

When the dowdy man dealt her two cards, the first one a queen of spades, the second, a ten, it took a moment, but then the gathered crowd cheered. She’d just gotten a Blackjack. She’d just won three hundred dollars.
Cristina laughed out loud, pulling all the black and red chips toward her, eating up the praise and the claps on the back. The blonde woman snorted and got up, and the other guy at the table scooted closer to her.
She put a hand to her chest to draw in their eyes, giggled a little in order to distract them, and used a blameless voice to ask if she’d really done a good thing.

Oh yes. She had them wrapped around her littlest finger.

“I think I’d like another one, please.” Cris’s guileless smiled stretched across her face when a waitress in a short skirt came around with a serving platter of colorful tumblers. The demon downed what was left in her glass and plucked a red one from the tray, taking a long swig of the new cocktail and then hiccupping a little to make it look real.

Human men were so easy. If they thought she was drunk -and- had some money in her purse, they would most definitely try to coax her someplace nice and private. That was fine with her. The demon felt like some fun and getting them to dance, strip and then poking them with a nice big knife (perhaps not in that order) sounded like just her kind of entertainment.

It was time for another hand so Cristina tossed a red chip onto the table ahead of her. The card that came down was a seven. The dealer showed a nine. Cristina winced, doubting herself only for a moment before tapping the green felt with her finger. The dealer handed her a nine of diamonds, and she sucked in sharply before he turned over his remaining card, showing a three. He only had twelve to her sixteen, so again, she was the winner.

[deus]

There were two reasons Deus enjoyed Vegas above any other city in the United States: gambling and lust.

Bright casino lights turned, what should have been, the dead of night purple-grey. The scent of pheromones and greed clung to the air, encompassing this small part of a desert land into a utopian paradise where men forgot the outside world and responsibility, giving in to their desires and embracing the wicked. Losing themselves to all that they have fought their entire lives. One night in Vegas could change your entire life. For good or bad. And what’s more… every hopeful face, alit with twinkling lights, knew this… and still they longed for it to be them. The high spirits and dazed minds, as day turned to night and night became day, clouding their judgment. Walking the dirty streets, looking as the gold-paved roads of Heaven to them, with out-turned pockets and desiring, up-turned little faces like moths… to the flame.

As the Armani suit drifted seamlessly through the exuberant crowds, did they part or was he exceptionally good at navigating a mass of human bodies? Where was he going amidst clanking machines, singing and giving the captured soul before it high hopes? The loud, digitized clicks built their anticipation and promised them that when this turn was lost… the next one held their future. And it did. Just one more time. That’s all it took. Maybe Asmodeus should have been sitting ‘dormant’ in a casino game… they so innocently did his work for him. But in the end, if a machine could do his job for him… more power to it. He much preferred a challenge. He would rather the flock be seduced by lesser means, while he focused on the souls that took longer… more convincing of their rightful doom.

While an individual could get more winnings out of a gumball machine from most that Vegas had to offer, the lucrative tables actually paid off talent. Perhaps this was why Deus halted suddenly at the excited cries of triumph coming from his left at a blackjack dealer. Drifting into the opening at the center of the gathering, Deus quietly observed the proceedings and allowed his possessed body to be jostled as the young woman before him was congratulated on her second winning in a row. Considering it was a man to most enthusiastically jar him out of the way and give her a sliding pat on the shoulder, it could only be presumed that he would readily congratulate her for losing too… simply breathing even. But if he knew what Deus knew with a slight inhale, the demon was sure this eagerly prospect bedfellow would sooner be running away screaming.

Laying a hand on this man’s shoulder to ‘encourage’ him aside, Deus leaned forth with a grin and laid a coveted grey chip on the green table. Turning knowing eyes at Cris, he raised his brows ‘innocently’,[white] “Wouldn’t mind playing a round for me, now would you? Feel like I’ve got pretty good odds with you.”[/white] Was the probability low after winning twice in a row? Sure. But when you were across from a demon… anyone’s odds were low.

[crisgraves]

Cris was eating up all the attention like a zombie devours brains. The lithe human body she wore was practically humming with pleasure from the present proceedings as well as thoughts of what would follow this little game. Tomorrow she would make the trip to surprise her husband-to-be, the middle Winchester sibling, so tonight she planned to thoroughly enjoy herself. It was after all, her sort of bachelorette party, for soon she would be a wedded woman.

Well, not really, but any excuse the wicked demon could use to torture, tease and maybe even do a little mattress dancing, she was damn well going to take it.


The chocolate haired demon teased her bottom lip with her teeth as a new stranger made his way over to offer praise and she fluttered her long lashes to add to the guileless air she was extending. This one was a bit brawnier than the one who’d been admiring her before, and Cristine figured if she was going to use a human and then poke him with a knife he might as well be good looking. An innocent smile was stretched across her sweet face as he attempted to take a stool near hers, but the smile slithered off her visage like the snake hiding behind the human mask as Cristine caught the smell of sulfur beneath cologne and her dark eyes landed on the attractive demon.

She clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes, unaware that this demon was more than the mere black-eyed variety. She was infuriated that this devil would step in so easy to ruin her fun. Cris wasn’t fond of her cursed brethren, and had even taken to killing them off when she could, and so not knowing that this particular one was much higher than her station, she decided that maybe making him angry would shoo him away so she could get back to her ‘fun’.

“No…I don’t mind at all.” She returned his ‘innocent’ brow raise with one of her own; her voice so saccharine the demon imagined she tasted the fake sweetness on the back of her tongue.
Turning her attention back to the game and letting her coffee colored eyes flicker to the dealer, she tossed another red chip out and waited for her hand.

An eight of hearts and a ten of diamonds were placed before her, and Cris watched as the dealer showed his own hand to be a seventeen.
The rules of Black Jack were that the dealer had to stay on such a hand, and even though she would have won with the eighteen, Cristine let her impish orbs flicker to the intruding demon before scratching at the green felt table in a silent request for another card.

It was a seven. She’d gone over twenty-one and lost the hand.

Fluttering her eyelashes in feigned innocence at the demon, Cristine pretended to be awful sorry she’d just cost him that pretty grey chip as the dealer collected from all the players. “Oops…I guess my odds weren’t so good after all.” She told him with an overly sugary tongue before letting the guise drop to reveal her quite annoyed and altogether uninterested expression.

“I was tired of this game anyway…”
Cris collected her winnings and stood up, offering the human a come-hither smile before frowning at the demon and making her way towards the bar. She assumed one if not a couple of the men she’d been playing with before would follow suit, but if not, there were other fish in this sea and she was feeling quite ravenous. Like a pirhana even.

[deus]

Chimes, swirls, cranks, and brief clatters of seldom winnings melded into the overhead music, pounding a listener’s head into a blissful daze. Money they so greedily earned, easily slipping through their fingers. It might seem that Asmodeus was one of them. Walking up in his designer suit and betting on another player’s hand, a man of this caliber would surely be betting on something far different than the cards at hand. If he were truly a man at all, that would undoubtedly be what he was doing. For this fellow demon, though not regarded as his equal by any means, had chosen a designer suit of her own. Those pouty lips and doe eyes were enough to make most warm-blooded men desire to taint her apparent innocence. She outwardly promised the beauty of inexperience, flaunting the pliable purity that came naturally to those innately youthful features. Enjoyable, surely, but a downright lie. And Deus knew that even before the endearing façade dropped from her features for him alone. It was save to presume, with the rarity of his kind, that she was his inferior… so it was only fortunate for her that he was one of the most good-natured of his brothers.

Resting his hand on the table, he turned a mild smile from her to calmly watch the dealing. Ignoring the mixture of jealous and concerned faces glancing at them, for he was certainly trying to impress and take advantage of this sweet young woman, he kept his eyes focused until they drifted curiously to her insolent little finger. If he were at all in need of the worshiped green of this world she would have paid dearly. Probably on the spot, because he had no reason to fear these powerless humans. Without meeting her eyes, he grimaced slightly for the benefit for those watching as she taunted him with the loss. Smug little grins crossed those desiring souls that would be on her trail like bees to honey, but it was not until she left entirely that Deus looked up at the dealer and shrugged slightly in mock defeat,[white] “Can’t win them all, I suppose.”[/white] His dear little friend would know this well enough in the moments after she departed. For no one would come. Flocking men would instantly forget her, and for good reason… Deus made it so.

They could not know why, in spite of desire and open invitation, Deus was the only one capable of removing himself from the card table and unhurriedly following in her footsteps to the bar. Pausing briefly to congratulate a winner at one of the machines, Grandma was on a roll tonight… she just needed to give in to taking the chance to lose it all, just needed the additional encouragement of charming smile. This was the very same smile that met the playful little demon when he joined her side at the bar,[white] “Now that wasn’t very nice at all, was it?”[/white] Putting up a finger to flag the bartender,[white] “What’ll it be my dear? I know you’re not at all adverse to wasting my money.”[/white] Leaning in with little wink,[white] “Admittedly, neither am I.”[/white] And with the privy knowledge to her unwarranted distaste for his presence, he suggested mildly,[white] “You might as well give in, or I might not let you play with anyone tonight.”[/white] Nodding gently to the bartender, though having given him no notice until now,[white] “He’s waiting.”[/white] With the way the young guy was ogling over her, he probably would have been content waiting there all night.

[crisgraves]

The lights. The smell. The sounds.

Cris loved Vegas.
The garish glittering lights that seemed to draw you in like a Luna moth to the flame. The smell of utter misery when a human bet his last ten bucks and lost it. The sound of liquid sex and ice clinking around in glass tumblers against parted lips. She loved the rich taste it left on the back of her tongue. A little like dark, sinful chocolate.

It was a busy place a demon could easily get away with very, very bad things…so what were the odds that Cristine would run into another creature like her that met, and most likely surpassed her acid dripping sarcasm?
Apparently Lady Luck was a cruel bitch and it appeared the odds were very good. Or bad…depending on how you looked at it.

Cris slid into a stool at the bar and crossed one leg over the other, smoothing out a nonexistent wrinkle in her black skirt. She furtively pulled out her compact mirror and pretended to powder her nose, scowling when she found in the reflection that none of her play things had followed. The demon blew out an aggravated breath to move a strand of chocolate silk that had fallen in her face and tucked the mirror away, quite irritated and clicking her nails against the mahogany bar counter.

The sound of Dues’ quixotic voice behind her made the black eyed demon cringe. She tried her best to pretend that it was like nails on the chalkboard and just hadn’t raised goose bumps on her tanned arms. Narrowing her onyx eyes, she turned them towards the creature with a scowl that would make a lesser demon flinch and inhaled sharply; clutching the counter so tightly that it gave a little under her inhuman strength.
“Oh. It’s you again.” She responded jadedly, momentarily ignoring his threat so that she could scan the bar for the most expensive liquor they had. And she found it.
The cask of Louis XIII’s upscale ‘Black Pearl’ was meant to be a pricy decoration for the casino. Priced at over $10,000 a bottle, they didn’t really have many people ordering a glass of it. A sly smile snaked across Cris’ lips and she lifted a crimson polished finger at it and then turned towards Deus. “Fine. I’ll have that one and I don’t mean a glass. Give me the bottle and leave a tumbler. I feel like getting tipsy tonight.”

She turned her expectant expression back to the bartender and waited, (at first he didn’t believe the order), the snaky grin turning to an all out, beaming smile when he finally nodded and retrieved the Cognac from the shelf.

When the tumbler was placed before her along with the open bottle, Cris poured out the smooth amber liquid with too much haste, deliberately spilling a bit of it on the bar top. After taking a pull and sighing contently, she turned her scowl back on Deus.
“What do you want? I’m not doing anything wrong… yet. I just want to have a little fun.” The female demon’s voice wasn’t at all whiney. Okay. Maybe it was just a little. She leaned toward him and arched a slender russet eyebrow. “This town ain’t big enough for the both of us…”

[deus]

[sorry for the delay... feel free to club me over the head...]

While other demons of Asmodeus’s caliber might have been angered by such an outright display of insolence, Deus had never been a particularly bad tempered individual. Oh, he had his moments like the rest of them. But for the most part, he had very little to fear and be intimidated by, so he was not easily swayed him from his good humor. The same could not be said for all demons, especially white-eyed demons, but Deus was probably one of the most peaceable among them. It did help that he had sizable legions down below, and that the nature of his manipulation came most readily through seductive composure. That was not to say, however, that Deus entirely tolerated disrespect. He did allow the lesser of his species to converse cordially with him, but only so long as they fully understood why he outranked them.

Now, he did not know all the demons. Even if he could identify one from across the room, he did not make it his business to keep tabs on everyone down below. He did however, in the rarity of his class, know that Cris should have been taking an ounce more precaution with him. He might not have revealed himself to her, for that she could not be blamed (even if he would punish her for it just the same should she cross a line), but he assumed correctly that there was little reason for him to play diplomatically. Fortunately for her, he found her personality entertaining for the moment. And that, above all else, was what really mattered to him. Hell, if she really wanted him to go away? She would have quicker results being a boring kiss-ass.

Smiling lightly when Cristine made her order, he nodded in approval to the bartender and casually pulled out a black American Express to keep the young man occupied until he was certain the Cognac was actually wise to open. It was all for appearances, of course, but then that was their disguises all over, wasn’t it? Turning a mild grin to Cris, in the face of her scowl, he made it clear that it would take more than snide comments and dirty looks to shake him off. It would actually take more than she was even capable of, but he would not have her know that just yet. Sometimes playing the mortals just was not enough of a challenge. He was sure she would concur, if the subject came up. How she would feel being his entertainment… was another matter entirely.

Releasing a laugh from his nostrils, Deus looked away and absently pressed his finger into the spilled amber liquid glistening under the bright neon lights. In a fluid zig-zag, he drug a trail of the alcohol across the bar and smirked. [white] “That would be where you’re wrong, my dear. This town isn’t even big enough for one of us. That being said…”[/white] Looking up, with as sociable a smile as ever,[white] “you must not know who runs this place.”[/white]

[crisgraves]

It wasn’t as if Cris was -trying- to be a petulant child, she simply just couldn’t help it. Honestly, being that she had lost her wits many years ago; before she had awakened in hell and even before burning to death at the stake during her ‘witch trail’, the young woman had never learned the meaning of the words due respect.
In the lower rungs all black eyed demons were taught to fight for survival. Actually, not
-taught- so to speak, but for the demon’s sake with any luck it was an instinctual impulse.
As soon as she’d fallen down into the flaming chasm the fiend found it was either eat or be eaten, and Cris definitely liked being the indulger instead of the meal.
And so, it was with this survivor instinct that she reacted when faced with another of her species.

Besides, there were so many demons above her station; the wicked girl had begun to confuse the yellow and white eyed ones, and even some of the reds. Their faces blurred together, save one; who shone like a super nova in the black hole of hell.
For Deus to suggest that -he- was the one that ran the human den of inequities came only as an ephemeral surprise to Cristine. She wouldn’t have recognized him if he was wearing a pair of horns and a sticker that read: Hello, My name is BLANK.

“Well, then…if you are him, the one that rules his garishly lit and sin dripping kingdom, let me be the first to say congratulations Your Highness. It’s quite the step up from the sulfur stinking realm below.”
Cris bowed her head in sarcastic reverence and then brought the newly refreshed tumbler to her lips; peering at him over the rim. Her chocolate gaze moved over his youthful, light features and her lips curved up against the dewy glass. Indeed, this higher demon was a manifestation that seemed far removed from the dredges of the Pyre. His appearance was so made of light that one could almost mistake him for an angel instead of a devil.

Cris’ russet stare dropped from his cherub face to the rich wooden bar top, tracking his pale fingertip through the tiny stream of amber liquid. The whispery smile across her lips remained when she gestured to the bartender, who brought her a second glass to set next to the other. The black eyed demon filled the tumblers and then placed one before Deus, to whom she tilted her head in invitation.

“You know as well as I do that our kind, of -my- rank have very few pleasures and privileges. Perhaps the most rewarding is the sensation of balmy crimson staining the skin. What use are the meat suits if they are not made to bleed?” Cris fluttered her lashes like she had always done when pleading her case, hoping that this king of demons would award her the slightest bit of amusement before banishing her back to the underworld. “ This place may not be big enough for the both of us, or even one, but I dont think the world would miss one of these pathetic humans. Would you deny such a lowly little peon this one pleasure before she is made to go back down into that cruel, cruel place?”



(( oh, by the way *CLUBS YOU OVER THE HEAD* >^..^< ))