Byron Samuel's Story

"A girl once walked down by my river..."

The wind itself seemed to pick up and swirl, dancing with the melody of the stranger's smooth voice. It was like life was breathed into Lectre Mansion, even from here on its outskirts. Leaves were caught in the sudden breeze, unkempt bushes rustled, trees creaked and whatever cursed creatures who called this land home began to stir. He stood a good stretch from the gates of the mansion, but he could just make the shape out. His painted lips creased into a wicked smile as he as took in its dilapidated beauty. He stepped forward and began to swing his ornate cane to and fro, while his other hand fished around inside his coat. He looked quite out of place here, and yet the mansion was already beckoning him with open arms and high expectations.

"She was beautiful and rich, dressed as fine as wine from Chantil.."

The ground crunched especially loud under his boots, the sound of each step of his awkward gait echoing through the entire forest. The sound seemed to wake the dense woods up, spreading more life through with each reverberation. The wildlife called and bayed, the breeze increased and the trees swayed harder. For too many years this land, this mansion, had been left to rot, that he felt the instant he set foot on this pathway. All of the festering and decaying, the anger at slowly being abandoned to aspects of time and neglect. Once this place was great, and it longed to be such again. Perfect for his needs.

"She stopped and moped about, and she went to leave..Her brand new heels snapped right off.."

It was a shame really, he thought as he let go of his cane, which remained standing straight up. This place had so much potential, and no one else was tapping into it? He closed his eyes and ran his fingers over one of the many hanging lamps scattered about. Instantly its light flickered a little brighter and the breeze picked up again, now nearly a storm. He shook his head and withdrew a cigar from his jacket's inner pocket. It lit itself as it touched his lips, and he took a deep, deep drag. The massive cloud of smoke that billowed out as he exhaled swirled around the lamp for a second before taking shape. The shape it took was that of an entire scene in miniature. There was a little river, and a woman on the bank holding her foot.

"As she stopped and swore, all her attention wrapped up in herself, two wolves came softly calling.." The smoke swirled again, now showing two large men in front of her, backing her down towards the river's edge.

He scooped his cane up and resumed his trudge to the gates of the forgotten manor. His singing now more rapid, his pitch raising with every word, and each time he exhaled another billowing cloud of smoke it swirled in to another scene. "She yelped and cried as they stepped closer, horrid demands dripping from their snarled jaws, the fear inside her swelling.." Again the smoke changed, the woman now panicked and loosing her footing, the men with wicked smiles, and the river running faster, hungry to swallow her up. "But alas the dear lass screamed and bellowed, to me she called, to god or anyone, save me!" The smoke cloud dissipated as he walked through it, now twirling his cane and again fishing through his pockets.

By now the local wildlife was starting to do more than wake up; it was taking an interest in his noise. Glowing eyes of all shapes and sizes, heights and placements, stared at him from the shadowy refuge between the trees. It just made his smile grow wider though. None of these mongrels had the courage to attempt taking his life, although if one did try he'd be quite pleased. Maybe reward it with zombification and service, or just eviscerate it. Either way he continued on, pulling a little satchel from his jacket. He poured its contents, a fine blue powder, into his hand and balled his fist up. His voice grew lower with each passing step.

"And with this her fate was sealed..For of course, you know, I answered." The next smoke cloud was merely a skull and crossbones, which made him chuckle. "Like a flash of lightning I appeared, I held my hand out to the lass and asked her ever so clear...'What is it you can offer me?'" He could see the gate to the courtyard now, so he released his cane once again. "Anything which you desire, the fair lass cried. Just my purity and honour, my wealth and my good name...And of course I was obliged.." He blew one final smoke cloud which took the form of a crying woman's face as his hand connected with the gate.

He raised his fist to his lips and took a deep breath, uttering the last refrain ever so gently. "I killed them both with a knife, and turned to her and asked just one thing.." He blew into his hand with all his might as his voice projected itself through the wind via magic. It echoed all around at deafening volume for miles. "Drown."

The blew powder shot from his hand with the roar of a white water rapid, as the particles slipped past the gates of Lectre Mansion they exploded into water, quickly flooding the entire courtyard. Dead center of the frothing tidal wave stood a pale woman, as beautiful as could be. Chains extended from his arms into the water but didn't seem to connect to much. She was crying, and angry-not that it mattered. Her will was not her own. Byron beckoned her towards the gate and begrudgingly she glided over to him, not making a sound.

"What do you say you open up this gate, my dear lass. We have a home to build!" Byron's speaking voice was as smooth and rich as his singing, and yet the woman shuddered at his every word. Nevertheless she pulled the gate open as she was bid to. He stepped in and patted her on the cheek, his long nails scraping against her skin. This was going to be a good century, he could feel it!

Lectre Mansion had new life, and a new owner, and the world at large had a lot more trouble than it realized. Yet.

Parties. Just his style, just his favourite thing, the very life blood coursing through his veins. Well, parties and Souls mostly. Right here, right now though this party alone could sustain him for a decade, easily. It's probably the reason he was drawn here to begin with. This whole damned city was like a giant beacon, a pillar of corruption, and vice, and violence, topped with fools gripped by greed and disbelief.

He still couldn't believe how many souls he raked in for a single afternoon of standing in a convenience store. The things people would do for these "lottery numbers".

This though, this party, this mansion, and these wicked people in it. It was like being wrapped in valuer. And so it was that Byron Samuel, an unknown, and most likely unwanted stranger found himself on the plush carpet of the foyer. He was dressed to the nines and had even glamoured away his face-paint, but his natural swagger seemed to make him a standout. He had no trouble talking, or hexing his way past the reception and security.

It was like this city was welcoming him already.

At first he'd blended into the back of crowds, isolated himself on empty walls and generally not made too much of a scene. His ever-so-dashing tux and bow-tie got the occasional glance though, as did his habit of twirling his Death's Head cane. He bid his time, though waiting and watching as little circles and cliques formed. Watching with a Hunter's glee as those with and without power struggled and jostled with eachother. His eyes finally settled on two "socialites", the game began.

This was going to be far, far too easy.

He pushed from the wall with grace, and wound his way through the crowd with surprisingly fluid motions. Each stride long and nimble, each foot placed with absolute confidence of where someone would, or wouldn't be. He wasn't the kind of commanding person that could "part the waves" of a crowd, but hell could he dance through a throng of people like no one's business. This was his prime environment after all.

As he made it to the staggered little circle of bodyguards he employed a little parlor trick. A pinch of Devil's bone and a touch of a liar's tongue and one moment he was there, the next invisible. It was his favorite mid-party entrance, one he had long ago perfected. He strode over, as silent as the grave and just managed to catch a comment about Champagne. More than enough for him to work with.

He casually placed his elbow on the shoulder of the brunette woman, his long and jagged fingernails grazing her hair. This of course caused him to pop into sight the second he touched made contact. Magic always had it's limits, but that was the fun of this particular party trick. One minute thin air, the next a tall, muscular dark skinned man with lanky arms and a pencil-thin build. He was leaning at an angle, pushing most of his negligible weight on to the woman, and already tipping his skull-adorned top hat to the crowd.

"Champagne is the drink of the elite, you know. Never touched the stuff myself, but.." His voice was low, soft, and as smooth as warm honey. "I'm simply appalled that such a well dressed man would have to have his...Daughter?" He glanced at the blonde for a second, then back to the older gentleman. "I assume. Inform him about it. Why, it's simply hysterical to us natives, ain't that right, brunette?" He turned his gaze to the one he was leaning on, his expression a lazy smirk, but his eyes a glimmering orange, with the narrow slits of a crocodile.

Of course the second he blinked his eyes returned to their normal, warm hazel. Playing himself off as a magician was going to be far too entertaining.

"Yes, with all of the gangs, the corruption, terrorism and alien invasions, I would hire more security as well if I was in her position." Sarai said to Hikarii, "Maybe Odes here will run for office one day and add us to his cabinet." She joked, causing Oded to scoff.

"I like to think I will discover new planets and turn them into giant party resorts. Everyone in the universe likes a party." The younger Israeli told the women.

He grabbed another drink from a passing waiter. A glass of red wine, it was just what he needed. Though, not everyone would agree that Oded needed to keep drinking.

The waiter continued on, finding himself in temporary shock at the arrival of Byron to the party. He, like the others in the mansion, assumed the man was part of the show.

Ariadne moved away from Byron, hiding her distaste for the man's sudden appearance. Mostly it was him touching her. Ot was only the fact that he touched her.

"Ariadne." She told him, "Not brunette. And do keep in mind that the universe is vast, not everyone has champagne. Not everyone cares to have it. Not everyone is a native to this planet." The Invictus leader said as she sipped her own glass of champagne.

"You must be the entertainment. Entertain us."

A genuine smile faded from Hikarii's lips as fast as it had arrived with Sarai's comment. She shook her head a little, and after watching Oded pick up another drink, she downed her own. Her classy pretence was less important than being around a drunk Oded completely sober.

"Party resorts... Perhaps if you look hard enough, you'll discover a civilisation of literal party animals. You could do with a creature that gives you a run for your money."

She held her empty glass out to Oded without a glance in his direction, expecting him to dispose of it for her as the waiter went on his way. Her eyes were too busy narrowing in on the newly appeared Byron Samuel. Just looking at him was making her feel ill, again. It was not going to be a smooth night for Hikarii.

"And... stay away from him."
She pointed quite obviously.
Her strange behaviour in regards to her apparently filled-with-luck judgements was something one grew used to over time. They also grew to learn not to ask questions.

A few meters away, a group of women suddenly started giggling uncontrollably, interrupting her musing. They stood taller than most of the guests, propped up on ridiculously high heels. They were her successors, so to say. Yet little more than glorified escorts.

"Come. I'm going to need something stronger."

The strange man, as he appeared behind Ariadne brought the almost immediate attention from the Confessors that surrounded them, hands moved into jackets to clasp around weapons, several high pitched whines could be made out as the staggered group of Confessors moved closer.

Their job was to protect the Emperor at all costs.

Kesslee was the closest of them all, standing on the other side of Prince, to his left while Chloe was standing on his right. Several subtle gestures coordinated the Confessors as Ariadne pulled away from Byron.

It was his comment about Champagne that made everyone Aschen cringe.

Two of the Confessors winced slightly, as Prince listened to Byron's words. Chloe quietly muttered. 'By the lords' softly to herself, before turning her face in embarrassment. He just called her Prince's Daughter. Was he really that old compared to her?

Prince said nothing, electing to merely stare at Byron, his face betrayed no emotions, he merely chuckled. "I'm sorry, where I'm from, it's not called Champagne." He said, hiding his distaste behind a smile, before he grabbed Kesslee and pulled him close.

"Occidamus eum." He then roughly released Kesslee, who gave Prince a confused and expecting look.

"Tarde." Prince added, grabbing Kesslee once more, eliciting a nod from the older man; then he released him.

Kesslee looked briefly to Byron, before he replied to Prince in Anquietas. "Cum voluptas, Dominar." He replied, before he gave Byron another knowing look.

Chloe understood the entirety of the conversation, but continued to look away in embarassment. Whoever this man was, had so brazenly insulted the Emperor of the United Aschen Empire.

It was so obvious that Chloe moved forward, and spoke to Byron in a hushed tone.

"Perhaps it's best for all of us if you leave; now." She said quietly. "That man you just insulted is probably the single most powerful man here, if you value your safety, mind your godsdamned tongue!" Chloe hissed.

She was acutely aware, that Prince had just ordered this stranger's execution; and that it was probably going to shape up to be an interesting night.

Byron merely laughed, a sweet, infectious rumbling really. It was too perfect. All of it was too perfect. He winked at the blonde before slipping out of her grasp. Although slipping wasn't the right word, it's more like he vanished, and reappeared on the stage the musicians were to take up later. This was going to be too much. He hadn't done this in centuries, but the rush never faded.

Immediately "fireworks" erupted from the stage around him, demanding the room's attention. Ladies and Gentlemen!" His bellow was so loud it shook the room, yet he had no microphone. Just a the sliest grin imaginable. I am your entertainer for this part of the evening! Many of our acts seem to be running late.." At this moment, the large silver skull that topped his cane spoke. Eyes glowing, lips moving, voice remarkably different from Byron's. "You know Van Luegen. Show up in a nice ride, leave on foot because somebody jacked it."

Byron grimaced at his cane, seemingly displeased and let it go. It remained upright by itself.

"You'll have to pardon my friend here, you see he's from a rather uncivilized place.." The cane whined in protest, but the magician ignored it and proceeded to pace about the stage, eyeing each guest."Now you see.." As he spoke a mist began to roll out from center stage, enveloping it it all and spilling out into the crowd, cold and clammy as the real thing. Stairs began to raise from center stage as well. Old Terran style, paint red and chipping.

Of course, none of this had been placed by stage hands, or was part of any act.

"There's all kinds of Magicians, some saw pretty women in half, some read cards, some can make your wallet vanish..But me?" All the light in the building blinked out, leaving the crowd in utter darkness for a moment, Byron's glowing orange eyes the only thing to be seen. It was eerie, and eerier still was the fact that as he spoke, he whispered, most people hearing it as if he was leaning into their ear. Some people even gasping as they felt cool breath on their neck. "I make wishes, and dreams come true.."

Suddenly light filled the room as a warm of lit candles seemed to pop out of thin air, floating of their own volition. Slowly the moved out, each seeming to come to halt next to a party goer until everyone had a floating candle. The stage was still utterly black, aside from Byron's eyes, although something was moving. A purple light was..Spreading. Taking the form of his lips, and teeth. "So somebody tell me a wish, and for tonight you can have it granted! It's my personal favorite party trick. But be warned.." His voice dropped into a hush whisper again. "Not all dreams work out the way you think...

His rumbling chuckle seemed to echo from every corner of the room. "Come on now, who's first? I'm waiting, I'm watching!" With that last word, dozens of pairs of glowing orange eyes appeared at random all throughout the room, each fixated on a different party goer, all blinking in unison.

Ariadne scoffed, she was never the superstitious type. Karma, luck, wishes, they were never her thing. They implied things were out of her control. That didn't sit well with her.

"I wish my ex-wife would stop nagging me!" A man shouted, eliciting a few chuckles from the crowd. "Going to make a wish, Sarai?" Oded asked his sister, "What about you, Hikarii? There has to be something you two want to wish for. This might actually work."

Oded didn't believe in making wishes either, but he didn't mind playing along. He was getting buzzed, he needed time to think. What did he really want to wish for? Youth. Eternal youth. Getting older meant he had to become more like his sister, like his father.

They were a bit too stuffy and serious for his tastes.

"This is Van Leugen, brother. What can you wish for that someone won't sell to you anyways?" Sarai asked.

Hikarii watched the spectacle with a cocked head. Her wish was to be much drunker than she was, and the Entertainment wasn’t helping with that as people began to engage and the crowd grew more still. She wasn’t so phased. Her ancestors were said to have made their living on such shows from the back of a caravan, which could explain some things. It seemed that this fellow was much more skilled and compelling. Hikarii shifted away from the apparitions untrustingly. She would’ve rolled her eyes at all the theatricality, it wasn’t her thing; Pixie, however, would have been eating out of his hands.

With any luck Oded wasn’t quite so stupid to believe this was a good way to plan out his future. She helped herself to his drink, giving him some subtle side eye.

“I make my own luck” she said “I don’t doubt that it’ll work, but everything has a price. And in this city… it tends to be your soul.”

The invitation had her wondering. What would she wish for, if she were willing to barter her soul? She came to the conclusion that it’d probably be a fresh start. To begin again. Though, staying true to her own belief of circumstance, without being born to different people, she’d still be stood in this room as the exact person she was. Her own particular clairvoyance had solidified her deterministic outlook on life. She didn’t like to think about it too much.

Hikarii looked at the now empty glass in her hand, and supposed that this could be fun. She guessed that as the wishes started rolling in, they’d only grow more dramatic and demanding. It wouldn’t kill her to be a good sport. Hopefully. So, she made the first serious bid: “I wish for the finest tasting, human-intended alcoholic beverage in the universe.”

Chloe made a face as the strange man seemed to simply vanish out of his grip, and it appeared Prince was still seething over the insult, so Chloe grabbed him and pulled him close to whisper delicately into his ear.

"If you killed every court jester for every little insult, you'd run out of jesters pretty quick." She said, as the lights seemed to shut off, the pyrotechnics, and the show seemed about to begin.

"So, you didn't go out of your way to make nice, how can I help you?" She asked Ariadne pointedly.

Prince moved his attention to the 'entertainment' that was offering wishes, he simply scoffed at the absurdity of it all, and then he pulled Kesslee close to whisper into his ear, the pair briefly carried on a hushed conversation while everyone else was distracted; everyone except the Confessors tasked with guarding Prince.

While they made no sudden moves, they watched the crowd and the strange man, their cold stern eyes observing and calculating everything going on around them.

The glowing face of Byron roared with laughter at the first request. He was outwardly amused, but inwardly dismayed. "I offer you anything in the world for one night, and you ask such a trifle?" His laughter hid the contempt quite well, he'd really rather have skipped such a thing, but. Well. He was a good sport. "Very well my dear man.." He waved his cane about for a second, and a flash of red shot out, rocketing through the ceiling and illuminating the room for a split second.

Everything faded back to the dim light of candles though, Byron's illuminated face center stage and smiling smugly.

"Wish granted. And since you were a good sport, offering the 'ice-breaker' wish, I've done you a great favour. Instead of my 'magic' lasting for only a night, yours is forever!" Of course..He did so in a very harsh way. That red light was a beacon. A harmless, coloured beacon that would uneeringly seak out it's target and illuminate them. Even those trained deeply in the arcane would see nothing malicious about it. Because they had no way of discerning the spirit of pure hatred bound to it. In an hour or two, the man receive an emergency call. His ex-wife would be dead.

He did tell them to be careful for what they wished for. The man got a deal though, this magic was free, not even costing a soul! You can't usually kill somebody that cheap.

Byron's smugness faded for a moment as Oded spoke up, causing Byrons glowing eyes to roll. "It's a party, it's sport young man! It's fun, and tonight it's all free. Believe me, I can do things no petty drug dealer or whore monger can do." Of course as he said that a very banal request for liquor came in. Talk about being undermined, but. A deal was a deal, and tonight's deal was wish it, and Byron granted it.

At least he could make it a little entertaining.

He threw his cane forward, it screaming in protest as it sailed throw the air, but the moment it collided with the ground it stopped. The room was deathly silent for a moment, and then..Hissing. A giant white Python, purple light flashing from it's body with each heartbeat, appeared where the cane had landed. He loved this trick, who said you couldn't learn anything from the bible? Quickly the beast wound it's way over to the nearest server, constricting around the frightened man's legs to keep him still.

Of course the poor fool yelped, but Byron locked his eyes with the simple man's, freezing him in place.

The snake merely slithered up his body until it was wrapped around the waiter's chest. It leaned over the tray he was holding, tongue darting about until it locked it's glance on an empty champagne flute. It opened wide and latched onto the glass, curved fangs on the inside, and with each illuminating beat of it's heart a thick red liquid seeped out. It took a few moments, but soon the flute was full. The snake released the waiter before vanishing into the darkness, no longer glowing.

Of course, Pythons weren't poisonous, but they didn't glow purple in time with their hearts either. So trepidation was something the magician expected. "Wine, from the personal stores of Gilgamesh, plundered from a city once rival to Babylon herself. So they legend goes. It's said to be the most refined vintage ever made, crafted from grapes grown by the gods themselves. Your wish, my lady." The waiter fumbled his way over to Hikarii as Byron spoke, offering the tray. "The only question is..Do you dare?

Alone at a table a waifish brown haired woman with pale skin locked eyes on Byron's mouth. Her gaze moved late as the cane moved about the room but the flowing crimson-scaled head just above the table line tracked quite well. The pseudodragon bore a loud orange vest labeled 'Service Animal' atop some concealed but clearly elaborate harness. A leash connected the harness to the woman around one arm as she clapped but never quite let loose. Occasionally she even reaches down to give the leashed red fellow a sip of her whiskey.

Though Cruor is suspicious of the humans they most seemed content to ignore a well-behaved creature with a good excuse to exist. A deaf handler seemed most useful since he couldn't hear through it anyway. Nor see through it when the cane flew overhead out of view from under the table. Up to his haunches he peers over the table lip where then the simulacrum could fix on it too. He'd considered something to ask for but thought it best not to ask such things of those that rapidly reminded him of home. The cabalists were always mindful of what they wished for. Many things could go wrong with idleness in dark places.

He licked his chops. One part of him deeply wanted to know how that drink tasted. The other was just willfull enough to keep him from drinking dark libations.

"That man knows the Book, Oded. Not that I am really one for the religion anymore." Sarai said, keeping her eyes on the supernatural python. She wasn't a fan of snakes, or really any animal that wasn't a dog or a cat and could bite her. Oded on the other hand would have probably wished for his own if he didn't think it such a dull wish.

"We are all sinners, sister." He said to Sarai, "I do hope you plan on sharing?" Oded asked Hikarii, taking a swig directly from the champagne bottle. Everything was leading up to him getting really drunk and partying.

Partying. He liked to party. He had an idea.

"I wish for my sister here to join me in a night of epic partying tonight!" Oded suddenly exclaimed, much to the horror of Sarai. She didn't know if she believed in the magic, but she was savvy enough to know that the wish could actually be granted.

"I swear, Oded. You will be the death of me." Sarai told the younger man, "Do not be so salty. Hikarii and I will show you the way to enlightenment." Oded promised.

Ariadne couldn't help but let out a small laugh at what was going on, "I have some business ventures coming into the city." She told Chloe, letting her eyes linger on Prince for a long moment.

"The kind that will benefit not only the city, but yourself. That is, if you know who to side with." The Invictus leader continued, offering a wave to a passing man. "I'm finalizing a few details, I'll be ready to move once they're complete."

In all honesty, she’d have preferred the snake to have been less forgiving. Now that would have been entertainment.

Hikarii snatched the drink from Oded. This ‘sharing’ thing was going to take some getting used to even though she often took from him. Her selfish, squinted eyes peered at the liquid suspiciously. She took a sip. Whatever the outcome, they were in it together now. A special sort of bonding.

With his next wish, she almost sputtered. Even if she had there’d been no chance of missing the pure exquisite taste of the wine. She took another gulp, quite greedily. It was already soothing her raised hairs from the performance and warming her up in all the right places. Or wrong; hiding her nastiness was harder when intoxicated.

“I hope you brought your comfortable shoes, Sarai” she said in a manner that was half threatening, half playful as she looked up at her through her lashes.

Prince watched the show in front of him with passive amusement, before he leaned over to Chloe. "Nothing that Terran can offer me that I don't already have." He said, and Chloe frowned.

"Hush, Isambard." She said quietly, before leaning over to Ariadne.

"You want to bring business to Van Leugen, that's all well and good. But you have to go through the bureaucratic process like everyone else. You see; I'm not like these other corrupt politicians and elitists in this city, I pride myself on my integrity. If you intend to do business in Van Leugen, I won't be bought." She said calmly, flatly.

"These silly parlor tricks don't amuse me." Kesslee said calmly, before he tapped his ear and mumbled something to the other confessors.

Finally a wish with a little style, a little class. Byron paused for a moment, trying to figure out how to best convey it. Compulsion Hex? Spiritual Graft? Possession? Demonic Influence? Or maybe..Just maybe...Byron's glowing purple lips creased into a smile as his eyes narrowed, fixated on Sarai. The room became hauntingly still, the only noticeable sound the breathing of the various party goers.

"I hope you're sturdy, my dear lady.." Byron's voice simply dripped with wicked pleasure, boarding on sinister malice. This would be more than a trick, a lot more. He raised his hand and it exploded with a pale-blue aura. The light simply blinding in the dim room, only lasting a second though. The aura shot off of his hand, now an orb screaming towards Sarai at extreme speed. The impact would make an loud noise, like a truck crashing into a wall. It wouldn't hurt though, not really, it would just feel like someone knocked all the air out of you at most.

The pyrotechnics went off again, bathing the room in a pulsing red glow, Byron was center stage with a smile.

"Your wish had been granted, young man." His smug smile seemed to expand a little more. "Your dear Sarai will now party for the rest of the night, stopping not for any reason save her death. In theory, anyway. I hope it's everything you wanted!" He raised his arms and threw his head back as he finished his sentence, pillars of flame rushing upwards from the stage in perfect time.

What he did was quite..Horrible. In fact it could cause great lasting damage. He temporarily released the soul of the Drowned Woman from his immediate care, forcing her into Sarai's body instead. She was quite the ravenous party girl, for a Victorian era woman, and for the last several centuries she'd had nothing to do but keep Byron company. Her appetite for the joys flesh and blood would be ravenous, this being the first time she'd been able to feel anything by regret and pain in so, so long.

Would Sarai notice? Would she realize her body was being puppeted? Would she hear the voice, the thoughts of the woman long stripped of life? Would memories bleed? Would the modern woman fight for her soul, her body, or simply lose it? Byron had no way of knowing, all he new was that Myrium was a force to be reckoned with willpower-wise. The spirit had strict orders not to do anything that might kill her temporary host, but he of course "forgot" to forbid trying to take over her body.

That was where the fun was, after all.

He turned his back to the crowd and leaned against his ornate cane, sighing. "It seems our wonderful music shall arrive soon, a more mundane sort of entertainment..I have time for one last wish though, should anybody like.." He trailed off, hoping to entice somebody into one last marvel.

When the orb hit Sarai she gasped, the air being knocked out of her made her admittedly very angry. This magic guy was bullshit. "Are you okay?" Oded asked his sister, "I'm fine. I want to leave." She told him, "I want to be anywhere else. This is stupid." Sarai answered.

She was a skeptic. Or she feared that the wish would actually come true and wanted to find any way to subvert it. Unfortunately for her, someone else was behind the wheel without Sarai knowing it.

"I need a drink." Sarai said, waving over a waiter, "Or several." She added, "I think it worked, or she's pissed off." Oded whispered to Hikarii. "Either way, I am thrilled."

Ariadne scoffed at Byron, "Parlor tricks are right. Even if they aren't, they aren't amusing." She said, mostly she just didn't like Byron. "I don't plan to buy anyone." Ariadne told Chloe, "Everyone needs people in their corner to make things happen. Especially in a place like this."

Cruor eyed the orb from the table wincing at the glow the distraction leaving the brown-haired woman following the orb late along its path. Cruor's nostrils flared as he sniffed the air. Though, was that a shadow of old blood he smelled? It certainly wasn't the bit on his back. How interesting.

Eyeing the simulacra he made her clap her hands at the display, "Good show!"

A little more loud than he intended but it was difficult to feel anything through the dust image. Grave silt, bone dust, dried blood, a bit of flesh burnt black. The silken texture of her black pantsuit and red shirt wasn't a coincidence. The flesh remained an image from the body he built it from. The brown haired image smiled when he did. He couldn't well get to a library to learn but a bit of gambling might make things interesting.

Cruor made the simulacra pull at her black collar, "I wish I how not to have to replace my suit so much while traveling!"

He wondered how eagle-eyed the curious fellow really was and he did have to dig up a body now and again. Curiosity and a pique to gamble had him eying the masked man of occult.

As the show continued, Hikarii took a few careful steps away from Sarai. Not only did she really not want to share her drink, but it was as though the ‘party animal’ in her was repellent.

She rolled her eyes at Oded, already losing some of her composure. She thought the woman always seemed mildly pissed off. But then again, she looked down upon any threat. No matter how petty.

“We’re in the wrong place to be thrilled. This isn’t much of a playground. You and I both know.”

Somewhere where the flashing lights weren’t perhaps cursed boded well with her.

Chloe, the Confessors, and especially Kesslee had lost sight of Prince once more amid the pyrotechnics, the show, and the amusement of the surrounding party-goers.

Several Confessors broke from Chloe and Ariadne, muttering into their earpieces as they spread out, moving among the crowds of people to find the man they were charged with protecting.

Chloe was growing increasingly nervous as she looked around in the darkened room for Prince, and then she turned her gaze back to Ariadne.

"Who says I don't already have people in my corner." Chloe said, still nervously trying to look for Prince. "I think my date just ditched me." She whispered. "Oh gods if anything happens to him here, they'll fry my ass on national television." She muttered.

She let something slip.

"I don't do well in the dark surrounded by confessors, help me find my man, and then we'll talk whatever business you have." Chloe said quickly, letting her gaze bob and weave around the guests.

--

"Maybe you should lose the little boy and get with the man." Prince said to Hikarii, as he seemingly slithered up to her out of nowhere, two drinks in hand. "We'll go back to my place, I'll show you a good time." He said, the alcohol it seemed was loosening the otherwise tight man up.

The strange men in dark suits were still bobbing among the crowd, searching for Prince while he kept just out of sight.

"I'm really rich." Prince whispered, before he produced a golden square coin. Easily recognized as Aschen currency.

"I'm so rich, this whole place, all these people; are bums compared to what I'm worth."

Byron pouted a little, staring at the...Graverobber? And it's dragons. Such a mundane wish but, a snap of the fingers and the the man's suit was fresh clean, pressed and starched. It would also remain as such, too. Of course..Byron figured he may as well not mention the only way to take it off involved confessing to how the blood on the suit he "cleaned" got there. The graverobber would figure it out, probably.

With that though, he bowed, vanishing with a sudden explosion of smoke, only his echoing voice left behind.

"Remember, dear partygoers. Wishes can come true, but sometimes what you ask for is not what you get." Seemed like the perfect cheesy exit line for him. And it allowed him to hang around long enough to pull off his last little stunt. "Slipping" a business card into Ariadne's pocket. More or less it looked, too the letter and font, like something an Invictus accountant might hand out, except it had funky little skull-doodle, and Byron's name with a single statement under it.

"If you ever change your mind, just call."

No number, no other instructions, just that. Assuming she even found the card before abandoning her suit and sending it to the cleaners, it would just be a curiosity, he hoped. Someone she might be willing to try someday, down on her luck. She had real, real potential for the kind of wishes and pacts that could break a planet. Byron was not about to let that just slip away.

He walked out of the fancy galla, hopefully unseen. Swinging his cane as always, a cigar between his lips and a bottle of spiced rum in hand. It had been a job well done. Maybe he'd check on the first wisher's ex-wife. Lord knows she'd just be a bloodspot in a back alley by now.

Man he was right. VL was the place for him.

Byron Samuel 's voice shattered the silence. It echoed off of every corner of the nothingness. "A real shame, that," Like snakeoil,bourbon smooth. "Looks like you got a little papercut there, champ.."

"And just maybe a bad case of lockjaw."

"Fancy,"

Byron Samuel appeared as a simple cloud of smoke, hanging endlessly in the air. Seemingly harmless. "How long do you think you have before the spirits return?"

"Because I'm guessing not too long, considering your charge."