Sorry it's taking a while, busy bee!

So, Armand has given into his feelings for Penny-and he's furious! This isn't how a demon should act and feel! He keeps trying to find in his mind a way to have both Penny and his goal:ultimate power via wiccaning. But, he can't find it. So, here we are, we delve into the dark magic community a bit. Forgive me if it isn't super edited. Enjoy!

Pronunciation of names:

Yahr-goh - Yargo

Flay-roh - Flaro

Tracks - Trax

Wihn-duh - Winda

Ah-lee-see-ah - Allysia

"Noooooo!" Armand screamed. He was in his manor, tearing through a room and breaking vases and coffee tables. He snatched a throw pillow off the settee and rent it in two, sending downy feathers to rain all over like summer snow. "That wasn't the plan. Keep it together!"

He kicked an already-toppled chair with his last syllable. He was furious with himself, with his weak emotions. He was supposed to dazzle and then befriend Penny, then befriend and introduce Allen. Instead, he had taken Penny for his own and engaged in a relationship with her. He couldn't believe how casual it was, how right it felt, to drop her off in front of her house, giving a parting kiss before she hopped out of his car. He couldn't help but feel like he used her on the hill, and at this he threw whatever was closest. But he had restrained himself, hadn't he? He didn't go far.

Guilt.

"You fool!" he cried! Upset at the weak human emotion he had fallen victim to, he went on another rampage, smashing everything in his path. He wouldn't normally feel guilt about a situation like this. He needed to do something about this. He was losing himself. He was a demon, wasn't he? A powerful demon, a god to his followers. He did what he wanted. He took orders from no one. He was above this puny witch, he was above feeling sorry for her in her teenage years, and he was above the emotion he was succumbing too.

"Yargoooooooooo!" he yelled for his servant (well, he told Yargo he was an "assistant," but Yargo accepted duties as a servant). He heard feet running to the room, and he didn't even turn to address the being he thought equal to sputum. "Yargo, tell Flaro, Trax, Winda, and Allysia to meet me at the human restaurant we love so much. 9pm. Tell them it's a summary and report of my progress. Tell Allysia I'm extra excited to see her."

The demon didn't even say "yes, sir;" his feet pattered away as he got set straight to his task. Armand turned, inhaling an aura of power; he set his demeanor to the power-abusing, evil demon he was before he met Penny-the demon he still was.

He raised his hands and cast a spell to put the room back together. He enjoyed the power radiating from him as vases reassembled and chairs repositioned themselves. He was glad to see his comrades, he needed a night out to remind him of who he was. He needed a night out to remind him of what he was.

Les Yeux de Nuit. "The Eyes of the Night." The Chicago restaurant was a hotspot for dark witches, demons, warlocks, and other dark ilk to meet. It was expensive, to Armand's liking, and the place was dimly lit. It was on a back street, tucked between tell buildings and alleyways. Armand was glad to have traded the adolescent garb he had been wearing for the dark, forest-green button-up and dress pants he now wore. Gucci shoes, real Italian leather.

He crossed the threshold and spotted his party immediately, they were at their usual table in the back-most corner. He smiled wickedly, approached, and slapped Flaro and Trax on the backs in greeting upon arrival. He kissed Winda on the cheek and did the same for Allysia, lingering a moment longer to blow in her ear.

Flaro and Trax were both warlocks, both clever and lending ideas to many of Armand's schemes. Winda was a demon with Intangibility and Hyper Speed, a powerful ally. Though Allyssia was a relatively weak dark-witch, only possessing Liquification, she was useful to Armand in more than the business field. Yes, she used her molecules to torture and/or drown those Armand saw fit, but he kept her close because she was his call girl. She thought she was climbing the social ladder with him, but she was only for his pleasure-and of course for his few actual business means.

"So, Armand, we are eager to hear progress with the Warren girl," said Trax.

"Merlot, bottle," ordered Armand to the waiter who approached upon Armand's seating.

"Yes, do tell," said Winda, absentminded running her finger back and forth through the menu.

"We must have patience, friends." Armand inwardly cringed at the term; they were his tools, the closest things he had to friends, but he wouldn't call them that. "I have worked my way into her life, and am going to meet her family this coming week."

A small gasp went around the table.

"Armand, you don't mean to go into the house?"

"Have faith, friends." Armand broke the conversation as the wine glasses and bottle arrived. The waiter poured the drink and Armand enjoyed the aroma. "I and many others will be casting cloaking spells of all sorts, we'll go over every outcome; I will not let anything stand in the way of my plan!" Armand said in his authoritative tone. He was disappointed in their faith in him, but couldn't be too upset, as he was inadvertently afraid himself.

The meal continued on, they discussed escape tactics from the manor should problems arise, family conversation etiquette, and Penny and the Johnson family themselves.

When the second course was almost yet not quite wrapped up, Armand addressed Allysia: "Hey, want to get out of here?" Had she said no, he would've taken her anyway, but there was no chance of that. She was looking at him seductively over her glass, hinting at what was to come.

"Of course," she said.

"Gentlemen, Winda," 'I might group her in that category with all the leather and bulky rings she wears.' he added in his thoughts, "Allysia and I will be off. We've discussed everything that needs discussing, I'll get back to you with the date and time of my visit to the manor. I'm calling a conference open to all my followers and more one week from this coming Tuesday, the usual venue. Enjoy the night," he closed and walked out with Allysia on his arm after leaving some large bills on the table. "I know a great place," he said, referencing a bar he had not yet taken her to.

A la Armand's Cadillac, they pulled up to a bar that was smokey yet classy. Armand had fun at nightclubs, but he was in for a venue that would tantalize and provide a catalyst to the senses. This larger high-end building was perfect, with it's satin curtains, dark colors of champagne and black, and a live jazz band that kept the music low, slow, and suggestive.

They seated themselves at the bar, and Armand ordered right away. "I'll have the Moscow Mule, and perhaps a martini for the lady?"

"Usually, but I'll take a Gin Fizz for tonight," she said, staring into Armand's eyes.

"Well, meow then," he said.

"So," began Allysia, "this Penny is a pretty looking thing. She's fine. Have you 'claimed' her?"

"Only enough to keep her mine. To entice her and get her on the hook."

"Ah yes, well who couldn't be taken with you?" she teased.

"Ah yes," Armand said, only half joking while the other part remained cocky. She chuckled at this. Though she was inwardly jealous that it was some little (to their minds) girl who was allowed to be with Armand. All for the greater good of the cause, she told herself. The drinks arrived.

They chit-chatted about how foolish witches were, how the path of light was one for the feeble minded. They gossiped about the followers who were lesser demons, though Armand considered Allysia a lesser being herself. But, don't bite the hand that feeds you. Or something like that. He did enjoy his darkness, getting back to the lifestyle and glitz he had started to slip from. Though, he didn't enjoy talking about Penny, her memory hurt too much, he didn't like all the feelings that came flooding back at the very mention of her name. He started to get excited again, staring at Allysia's near-exposes breasts and remembering the feel of Penny's, though shielded by clothing, under his hands. Allysia wore a knee-length red halter-top dress with an open, plunging neckline almost to her navel. Her hair was blond, pinned up with a single stick. They were both to the bottom of their second drinks by now.

"Shall we?" proposed Armand, motioning for the door.

"Yes, I think so," she said, suggestively licking and sucking some of her drink off her index finger before rising. Armand didn't take his eyes off her as he rose and placed bills on the counter. He took her on his arm, enjoying the fact that they were the best looking couple in the establishment.

When they got to the car, Armand didn't open her door.

"Screw it," he said, placing his right arm around her waist and his left hand on the car, fading back to his mansion.

They faded through smoke into his garage, and entered the house through the connecting door. The one of many rooms that they entered was colored in steel grays and blues, giving a dark yet soothing aura to the room. Armand was already copping a feel on her butt, and she was rubbing his back as he ushered them through another doorway. He had a second bedroom on the first floor just for this occasion, and he was proud of it. He slammed the door behind them and seized her to his mouth.

He kissed her in a ravenous manner, not like the sweet yet passionate kisses he shared with Penny, but she wasn't on his mind. He was in fact doing this to get her off his mind.

He threw her onto the bed and licked from the bottom of her dress's neckline up until he was sucking on her jawbone. He raised a hand and performed a silent spell to untie her dress.

Though he was in his mansion and he was indisposed with Allysia, in the back of his mind-still he'd never admit it-was a girl with a fiery spirit and big brown eyes.

He pronounces it proh-gress.

We can argue abt the technical definition of indisposed, but I have only ever heard it in context used when someone was "indisposed" with another human being. If you get my meaning. Maybe it's just a term I heard in college only.