Chapter 45
A Scheme Come True
"Ah, at long last!" Alastor cheered as they reached a tall, ornate red and black gate. "That wretched labyrinth is behind us!"
"Now maybe you'll stop bitchin' at me," Husk muttered, though he knew better than to believe it.
Before them sat the Japanese district, the entrance of which seemed to be heavily populated by the poor and homeless residents of the area. Shacks lined the path inside, and there were small camps dotting the beginning of the territory. Some looked at the newcomers warily, others ignored them, and a couple saw opportunity.
Suddenly an imp kid ran right in front of them, and when they stopped in surprise, another ran straight into Alastor's hip. The moment he made contact, the overlord's right hand came down in between the young boy's horns and plucked him up off the ground. Lifting the lad to his eye-level, the wendigo's smile sharpened threateningly as he held out his left hand, palm up. "If you please." When the imp shakily returned the man's coins, Alastor gave a laugh and set the boy back down with a light head-pat. "Good lad! Now off you go!"
Despite being the lowest form of demon in Hell, imps had one thing going for them that many demons didn't; an innate ability to understand any language. As such, Husk didn't need to translate a thing before the kids took off running, not daring to turn around. The cat watched after them for a moment before trudging along behind his boss. He's seen the guy do that before with kids; at least these ones knew not to stick around and bother him again. Even with youngsters, Alastor's patience does eventually reach its limit.
When they finally reached the end of the poorer area, they found a young woman on the side of the road carrying a bundle. Dressed in a plain and somewhat revealing kimono, she wore light makeup on her face, similar to that of a geisha but far less ornate. She was singing to the bundle in her arms, and Alastor immediately looked somewhat curious. Did this woman have a child? She must be Hell-born, then. Perhaps she could help them find their cryptic patron. "Excuse me, miss."
Noticing the foreigner's attention was on her, she whispered sweetly, /Look, little one, your father is here./
"Al," Husk muttered, walking up to the wendigo's side in an instant. "Other side of the street."
"Oh?" he asked, clearly surprised. "Why? Can she not help us?"
"She's a trap," he said, slowly herding the curious overlord away. "Whatever that shit is, you don't want to get mixed up in it."
As Alastor turned his now much more critical gaze back to the woman, he saw something curious moving in her hair; is that a spider? It made its way to the woman's ear, and for a minute she appeared to be listening. After a moment of silence, the woman looked both surprised and embarrassed. /Oh! You are Alastor; forgive me. I did not know./
/How do you know who he is?/ Husk interrogated, still maintaining a wary distance.
/My mother is expecting you,/ the woman explained, softly.
/Wait, your mother is the person we're looking for?/ he asked in surprise.
/Yes./
"Husk, a translation would be appreciated," Alastor growled through gritted teeth. To be left out of a conversation with a woman Husk just warned him about was making him very anxious.
"She says we're expected," he told him. "Her mother's the mysterious sponsor."
"Ah, so she can help us!" he surmised. "Excellent! Ask for directions, my friend. The search is almost at an end!"
Husk hesitated to ask, instead turning to his boss and whispering, "This is a bad idea; you know that, right?"
"I will have to be extra careful," the wendigo agreed, quietly. "If a woman like this is her daughter, it is an excellent warning of what her mother could be like. But I've come this far already; it would be a shame to turn back without at least meeting the woman. Ask for directions, Husk."
Deciding that arguing further was pointless, Husk just kept a firm image of saké in his mind as he asked the woman where they could find her mother.
/Follow me; I will take you somewhere to prepare to meet with her./
"She says we need to prepare first," Husk grunted.
Alastor's patience slipped, and the filter on his voice was filled with static as he growled, "I think not."
When Husk relayed the message, the woman looked downright offended. /It is a privilege to meet with the head of any of the Yokai families! You will not disrespect Mother!/
The red-clad overlord didn't bother waiting for a translation; her expression and tone told him enough. "I am very capable of being a patient man-" his claws flexed as they extended, "-but your leader, your mother-" he grew in height, "-has left me to find my way in foreign territory, with this blasted festival as my only clue where to go!" His antlers spread a foot out as his hateful red dials focused down on the woman, who began to shrink away in fear. "She will take us as we are, or this meeting won't happen at all!"
For a tense moment, nobody moved. The demoness trembled slightly, unaccustomed to angering a man with so much power. Once again, Husk's skill as a translator was unnecessary; she knew she'd lost. /I will take you to Mother. Follow me./
"She says we're good to go," Husk stated, entirely unaffected by Alastor's angry display.
As quickly as it came, the transformation regressed back to his usual form. "Magnificent. Let's go!"
Alastor twirled his microphone, humming to himself as he followed the frightened woman to his destination. He couldn't help himself; if he didn't, he was going to start fidgeting, and he refused to look nervous here. He desperately wanted this day to end, and finally he could see the light at the end of the tunnel. Although he had to admit that, if it turned out this Yokai leader decided not to sponsor the hotel, his frustration was going to destroy something big, loud and utterly unmissable.
No one strings along the Radio Demon.
Eliza definitely needed to save for next year.
There were the typical hellish additions to the marketplace; sex toy stalls (one with live product demonstrations), torture tools, surprisingly cheap weapons, stores that sold everything from aphrodesiacs to potent poisons, a crystal stall full of shiny colors that made her stare, and much more. In fact, as she stood there staring, a thief burst in to steal some of the goods, but was quickly caught. Then the stall owner rang a bell she hadn't noticed before, and the thief was carted off kicking and screaming by a local butcher. She then noticed upon closer inspection that many stalls had such bells.
That made her realize she should probably make sure whether any meat she ate was a person at one point. Oh dear…
Still, in between the craziness, there were stalls that tempted her greatly. One had fine china, some from every nation, and another held books in different languages. A meditation stall from India had mats, books on chakras, balanced stones, crystals and more, and she was honestly tempted to stock up for her own meditations. Maybe it was greedy, but while she's had it recommended by a meditation instructor to meditate in a clean, empty space, she always wanted to meditate surrounded by crystals and other things.
Budget, remember the budget…
The food stalls, however, were the closest to shattering her willpower, especially the sweet stalls. A Russian stall was full of sweets that nearly made her stomach forget it was still full of oden. There were squares of some kind of honey cake called medovik, some chocolate covered bite-sized soufflés that looked absolutely delightful, a chocolate cake called tort praga, cheese pancakes covered in berries…
Right next to that was another stand competing with their own sweets, but from a very different area of Asia. Apparently they were sweets from Jordan, a country she knew very little about. However, from the looks of their food, she was going to learn as much as she could. There were several varieties of a sticky treat called kanafeh that made her want to melt from the smell alone. Some were covered in nuts, others had cheese, and one was smothered in cream. The two store owners, both women, kept bickering back and forth, and when she looked to be favoring the Jordan stall, the Russian woman pulled out a knife and attacked the other. The fight took place in the booth, and as soon as the Russian lady left her stand vacant, several nearby people started stealing bits and pieces before the fight ended and they got caught. Two of the thieves didn't make it out in time, and she watched as they got carted off.
She felt a tiny bit guilty for stealing one of the small, wrapped candies from the Russian sweet stall, but when she opened it up and popped it into her mouth a little ways away, all guilt evaporated. It tasted like chocolate and pralines, and she giggled happily. In life, traveling was too expensive and out of her reach. Here, it's literally just another section of the city, and this marketplace probably held stalls from all fifty Asian countries. And if she really wanted to get a glimpse of what the countries might be like, all she needed to do was follow the banners.
Speaking of…
When she arrived at the final Japanese banner, she found the exit she'd been searching for and nearly broke into a run. The large, beautiful red and black Torii gate had her mesmerized, and she wished she could read the golden kanji letters that decorated it. Hiragana and katakana are easy enough, but kanji is so elaborate and complicated that trying to learn it in class made her head hurt. Because of that, she only took two classes in Japanese and then left it alone in favor of dedicating spare credit hours to musical studies. Sometimes, even sheer willpower meets its match.
Damn fancy writing.
Once she took one step past the gate, she faltered for a moment as she saw something very unfamiliar; a poor district the likes of which was utterly unknown to her. She'd never seen such make-shift housing in her life, and the sheer number of people made her very nervous. This was one situation she'd never had any temptation to be a part of, especially with her wings still so tired. Her rose was still hidden away, though the dull ache stopped a while ago. Would she be able to call on them if someone tried to assault her?
'This was a bad idea,' Superego fussed. 'We have no defense because someone had to lose her patience and exhaust our only form of defense!'
'Hey, it ain't our only power,' Id argued. 'Just our most reliable.'
'That isn't helpful!'
'Put out a cold front,' Id suggested. 'Frost spreading around will keep most of them at bay.'
'What should we think of to trigger it?'
'The same thing we're gonna use to shut down the pheromone.'
Taking a deep breath, she sent her final box of tofu to her spirit storage just to keep it from getting chilled. After that, she recalled the conversations before Love Day; all the talks about family. Memories of her parents, listening to others talk about their parents, and wishing she had more than four years with her caretaker. That did the trick, because the ground around her feet started to pale from the coating of frost blanketing the surface. Those who got too close to her would suddenly have difficulty breathing, and everyone gave her space.
'Now hurry out of here before it wears off or something!' Id commanded.
As Eliza quickly made her way through, she fought the urge to look around and study the people here. If she had her defenses intact, it would be exciting to see how the poor and downtrodden live, but right now she's just a walking target, and she needs to make herself as problematic as possible to approach. There is always next year. Always next year…
Finally she made it to the end, and she took a deep breath as she let the aura drop. She had never maintained it for so long, and it left her feeling drained and a little flushed as her body couldn't seem to vent this heat wave that plagued her now. It was like having a fever, and it made her feel a bit dizzy. The last thing she needed was to feel more nervous, but every time she stumbled, she worried someone would notice that she's not at her best.
When she heard a shrill, short scream nearby, she faltered. It was a man's scream, so it might just be Alastor, but the last thing she needed was to be near a dangerous area. The source of the scream seemed to be a nearby alley, so she kept her distance as she peeked inside. A woman with long, wild black hair was devouring a victim. She remembered looking up Yokai before, but it was a few years ago and there were so many. Still, when she saw long hooks on the ends of her hair, she believed this one only ate men. Hopefully that was true, because that looked like a painful way to go.
She really shouldn't be surprised; if the Kitsune exist, it is likely all the Yokai are present in some way. Is it possible for a sinner to become a Yokai, as some are believed to have been human once? There was one that used to be a woman, but became Yokai by stealing coins. Another was one that died giving birth, or was it before birth? Maybe both, she couldn't remember.
Then there were more dangerous ones, like Kappa, but at least they only inhabit water sources like rivers and ponds. Actually, does Hell have a proper river or pond? She didn't see an ocean or lake on her flight here, and she covered a lot of ground. Where did they get all of their water from?
Wrapped up in her curious thoughts, she didn't realize that someone had their eye on her, nor that they were approaching.
/Here we are, sir./
Alastor looked at the large building with skepticism. Granted it looked quite nice, but something about it put him on edge. "Your mother is here?"
Husk asked in Japanese, and the woman nodded. /This is her bathhouse. She wishes to speak with you on the balcony./
The cat face-palmed. /She wants to meet my boss… in a bathhouse?/
The young Jorōgumo tilted her head with narrowed eyes. /Is that a problem?/
/It might be./ Relaying the message to Alastor, he wasn't the slightest bit surprised when the overlord visibly flinched.
"She must be joking," he hissed.
"Nope," Husk told him, flatly. "It's a bathhouse."
Turning to their guide, he asked in a low tone, "Is your mother mocking me?"
Husk translated, and the woman looked mortified. /Not at all! This is her domain; a place for others to relax and indulge!/
Pointing a claw at his boss, Husk stated plainly, /He doesn't indulge, and nudity bothers him. A lot./
/The area has been emptied of patrons in preparation for his arrival,/ she informed him. /Mother is aware that he is a private man./
The cat huffed out a laugh. /That's putting it mildly./
"Well?" Alastor asked.
"Place is cleared for you. Apparently she knows you're a prude."
The overlord sighed. So, she knew details about him, but revealed nothing about herself. "I assume she speaks English, unlike yourself."
Deciding to leave out the slight, Husk asked, /Does she speak English?/
/Yes. She speaks many languages. I will take him to the balcony, and then they will be given complete privacy./
"She's gonna take you in; looks like you don't need me, boss," Husk stated, a little loudly. "Mind if I check out the area?"
The wendigo gave him a knowing smirk. "Enjoy yourself; do some sight-seeing for me. Make sure to find a good vantage point for the festival."
"'Course." With that, Husk walked away, waving over his shoulder as he went.
Knowing that anything she said at this point wouldn't be understood, the woman motioned for the overlord to follow her inside. Keeping a steady gait, he could see that his guide was quite nervous, and he gripped his microphone for comfort. He didn't dare transfer any energy yet, in case they sensed that it was a vessel and not just ornamentation. As long as they believed it was nothing more than a staff, it would be his reliable back-up battery if necessary.
The interior was almost alien to him. Surrounded by bamboo walls, the walkway seemed rather small for a place that supposedly saw a lot of traffic, and his heels clacked loudly over the tile floors. Without so much as a thought of asking permission, he sent his shadow to verify that all the rooms were, indeed, devoid of patrons. There will be no unpleasant surprises.
When they finally reached a large, sliding paper door, the woman paused before opening it to glare up at her mother's guest. Alastor cocked an eyebrow, unsure what exactly she was angry about. After a tense stare-down, the geisha opened the door and walked inside, the wendigo right behind her.
/Mother, Alastor has arrived,/ she introduced with a deep bow. The red-clad overlord gave a small head-tilt in acknowledgement.
The woman standing before them was dressed in a modest and elegant red and gold kimono, and her hair was in a tight bun on top of her head with two stick-like hair pins appearing to hold it together. He couldn't deny that she was lovely, with her heavily painted face turning towards him. Her modest dress made him feel more at ease, especially compared to her daughter's more revealing robe.
Maybe this really was just business, after all.
When she finally looked at him fully, her face went from calm to enraged as she turned on her daughter. Yelling something in Japanese, the younger demoness cowered as her mother rebuffed her. Alastor felt irritation at not being able to understand what they were saying, but after a moment the elder woman calmed, dismissing her daughter with a stern glare.
Giving the wendigo one final scowl, his guide made a swift retreat, slamming the door behind her. With a broad smile, he asked, "What was that about?"
"Forgive me," she said, sweetly, giving him a light bow. "I thought my daughter had failed to inform you of our etiquette. Tell me; why did you refuse to prepare for this meeting?"
"I have wasted enough time following your vague information," he growled. "What did you gain by making this trip so difficult?"
"A small test of resolve," she stated, simply. "I wanted to see if this… redemption project was serious. After all, for all I know, this could all be a trick of demon royalty."
The thought of someone believing Hell's naïve princess could pull off such a grand con made him chuckle. "I assure you, the princess is deathly serious in her aim to redeem her hapless subjects. Still, I suppose I can't blame your skepticism; Lucifer is a tricky man, and it is safe to assume his only heir might well take after him."
"And yet she seems to be rather… innocent," Jorōgumo observed, quietly.
"She truly believes that salvation is available, even here," Alastor chuckled. "I do not share in her optimism, but it is a most amusing experiment. No matter the outcome, I look forward to seeing it."
Jorōgumo projected calm, but internally she felt nothing but spite for the ignorant heiress. To think that the daughter of Lucifer himself was so hopelessly naïve! "I suppose, for something like this, such a… hopeful disposition is required."
Alastor caught it; a whiff of mockery. What he said next surprised even himself. "My lady, I assure you that Miss Magne is more than capable of fighting for this, though she does not project her willfulness well."
"Are you saying you respect the girl?"
"I am amused by implausible pursuits. But I do find her persistence in the face of such adversity to be… admirable."
After a moment of looking over the balcony, watching the children of superior Yokai dominate the streets as the festival came close at hand, she felt a genuine moment of calm in the midst of her bitter envy. "Yes, I suppose you are correct. To overcome circumstances through sheer will is something I can understand."
"Now that that's out of the way," Alastor said with a deep bow, "I am Alastor, also known as the Radio Demon. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?"
"Oh, forgive me," she smiled, giving a bow of her own. "I am Jorōgumo, the matriarch of my kind. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
When Alastor walked forward to look over the balcony a few feet away, a silent signal was given with her foot, and her spider servants began to move. They had the silk, and she had Alastor's attention. Her children had informed her that his shadow was no longer searching the building, so she knew that the man would remain unaware for as long as she had him distracted.
Now she just needed to figure out where that blasted companion went. Her daughter informed her that the cat wanted to explore the area, but she knew he had to be nearby.
"Why don't we have a seat?" she suggested, and Alastor turned to see two short, reclined chairs that weren't there before, each with a small bamboo table next to it. "I assure you, even from these chairs, the view is spectacular."
"That sounds lovely!" Setting his staff down just within reach on the table, he gladly took a seat with a small sigh. It had been a long day of walking and searching; a little relaxation couldn't hurt.
Giving him a sideways glance, she watched as her spider children got to work under the reclined back of the chair. All she needed to do was keep him present until it was finished, and make sure he didn't notice their silent, dutiful work.
Husk began to feel frustrated, searching for a spot to watch his boss. The balcony overlooked the entire area, but there were very few buildings tall enough for him to be able to keep an eye on them.
Not many people knew what his skillset really was, especially what he was good at in the military. He was adaptable and quick, but he could also be frighteningly patient during intense situations, such as his brawl with Angel Dust. Most attribute that to his being a successful gambler, but that was only part of it.
The other part was that he used to be a sniper. The patience needed to wait for that perfect shot affected him in many ways, but that perfect shot needed a visual, and that was his current dilemma. This situation was a sniper's worst nightmare; no distant platform that gave him a clear view of his target, and trying to take a shot while flying through the air was a pain. He could manage a decent shot while hovering, but nowhere near what he could pull off on a stable surface. Any of the spots on the elevated area the bathhouse sat on were too close, and he'd be made before he could do any real damage.
Damn it, where the fuck could he watch from?
As he was walking, he did a double take as a woman caught his attention. White scales, brown hair, professionally dressed…
"No fuckin' way!" When she turned her back to him, he marched right on over to her. "Eliza?!"
Her head whipped around with wide eyes. "Husk!" Immediately she looked all around, worried that Alastor might see her. That was the last thing she needed right now.
"What the fuck are you doin' here?!" he asked. "Are you followin' us?"
Switching from nervous to downright offended, she straightened up with a glare. "No! If anything I was really hoping neither of you would see me here. I'm here for the festival." Giving another quick look around, she asked, "Is Alastor nearby?"
"No," he answered, but then she watched in horror as he pulled out his silent radio, "but if I don't tell him you're here, he's gonna be pissed."
"Wait, don't!" she hissed, putting her hand on the radio. "I don't want him to know I'm here!"
"And why not?" Husk asked, folding his arms. "It ain't like you to be all secretive and shit. Hell, you let the guy spy on you and Vox, so what's the fuckin' problem?"
"Look," she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she thought hard on what to say, "let's just say the last time we spoke we had a falling out. He hasn't spoken to me since, and honestly I think he'll teleport me away out of spite. I really don't want to miss this festival, OK? Just… tell him after or something."
Looking away for a moment, Husk muttered, "So that's why he looked so pathetic in the car."
"What?"
"Nothin'," he grumbled, putting the radio back away. "Alright, look, I'll keep quiet, but until the festival starts you're gonna help me out, got it?"
She raised an eyebrow. "I don't understand; what exactly do you need help with?"
Husk pointed up high, and she followed his claw until she saw the balcony overhead. "Al's up there talkin' with some Yokai lady who's interested in coughin' up money to the hotel. Thing is, this whole damn trip screams 'trap', and I need to see what's goin' on. He doesn't know you're here, and no one knows you know Al. Help me find a spot to see what's happenin', then stay nearby in case I need backup. I ain't Alastor; I know SNAFU when I see it, and I ain't cocky. I don't know if I'll be enough to stop this bitch if she gets any ideas."
"Wait," she murmured, looking up curiously. "You said it's a Yokai; which one?"
"Fuck if I know; her daughter didn't give a name."
"Daughter?" She looked down the alley at the woman with hooked hair and pointed. "Someone like that?"
Taking a peek, he shook his head. "Nope."
She looked around again and saw a woman soaked in blood carrying a dead baby in her arms. "That one?"
"Closer. She had a bundle, and talked to it like it was a baby, but I didn't see no kid in it. Before she knew who Al was, she said he was the kid's dad or some shit."
Eliza's face fell. She couldn't remember the name, but she remembered the translation. The whore spider. "And she's… interested in the hotel?"
"I ain't fuckin' sure, but she went outta her way to be vague," he grumbled. "This whole trip would have been a lot shorter if she gave us more info."
The therapist looked down. Vague information; maybe she hoped he would get frustrated and use his powers all the way here. "How much power did Alastor use to get here?"
"A little, though mostly to fuck with people. Nothin' drainin', if that's what you're askin'."
"I think she hoped he would be weak by the time he arrived; this Yokai is known more for deception than raw strength."
"You know about this shit?"
"I know of her, yes," she answered, softly. "They prey on young men, just like that other woman in the alley. They lure them in with promises of sex, ensnare them in web, weaken them with venom, then slowly take what they want over a span of several days before eating them. Some are known for trying to trap men in dreams of being with a young and beautiful woman, too, but wise men can wake up and escape before they die."
Husk just laughed. "If she's lookin' for sex, she's barkin' up the wrong tree! This'll be over before happy hour."
"Does she know he's disinterested?" she asked, curiously.
The cat paused. "She knows he's a prude. Emptied out her bathhouse because of it. Shit, she might know." He scratched his head in confusion. "Then why the fuck's she even tryin'?"
"First thing's first," Eliza stated, matter-of-factly, "let's find you somewhere to spy." Then, she looked like she had an idea. "And I know who to ask! Where is my- oh, I never took it back out!"
When she summoned a small red box in a plastic bag, Husk's eyes flattened. "The fuck is that?"
"A gift," she told him, happily. "And it just so happens that it's for a Yokai known for mischief and chaos."
"Uh… Like them?"
Turning to follow his gaze, she found that there were five small, red foxes behind her, all in stalking positions. The one at the head, who only had one amber eye, was familiar to Husk, and his tail started wagging. /Hey, it's the magic cat!/
/Who's the lady with the tofu?/ Another one asked.
/I think that's the tofu dragon Kichi mentioned!/ the leader barked, excitedly.
Husk looked over at Eliza, who looked confused. "The fuck is a 'Tofu Dragon'?"
She looked at the one-eyed fox kid as recognition dawned on her. "Oh, are you Genki? Kichi's twin brother?"
"Yea. Are you the tofu dragon?"
Honestly, what was the point in arguing that nickname anymore? "Yes! And I have a box for you and your friends, but I need a little help first."
The kid growled warily. "What kinda help?"
Pointing to the veteran, she explained, "Husk here needs to see the top of that balcony-" she pointed up at the top of the cliff, "-but from a safe distance. Do you know somewhere he could go?"
"Yea!" he cheered. "There's lots of high spots! Let's go!"
"Here," she said, handing the bag to Husk. "When they find a spot that works, give them the whole box. It's absolutely full, so don't drop it!"
The cat looked down nervously at the foxes, who were drooling excitedly. "They ain't gonna eat me, right?"
"We won't eat you, magic cat," Genki promised. "We like your magic!"
"I'll show you more when we get there, then," he promised with a smirk. "Nothin' beats dinner and a show. Aside from alcohol, but nothin' fuckin' beats that shit." And with that, the foxes took the lead, but before he left he gave Eliza a curious look. "What are you gonna do?"
She gave him a smile. "I'm going to take a nice, hot bath!"
As she turned to make her way up the slope, he just stared after her. "How the fuck is that supposed to help?!"
It was surprisingly easy to keep the wendigo's mind occupied. Jorōgumo kept the conversation mostly business, but allowed for many tangents in the conversation when presented with them. As long as he was amused, he seemed more than happy to talk.
Loneliness was so easily taken advantage of.
The Yokai wasn't idle during her month of waiting, spending a great deal of time learning about her quarry. He's a mysterious man; one who doesn't have many companions, and most who know of him are too afraid to be in his presence for long. This told her many things, including the fact that, if presented with the opportunity, he would likely relish the company of someone who spoke with him freely and respectfully. After all, he wouldn't be so generally feared if he took insults lightly, or so she assumed. It was a surprise, however, to discover how handsome he was. Unlike the red-clad deer, she was familiar with social media and the like, and was unafraid of using it as a resource. Pictures of the man were scarce, and those that existed were indecipherable. Honestly, she thought that he must be horrifically ugly if his photos were garbled in such a manner. What a pleasant revelation to find out otherwise.
What she truly didn't expect, however, was for them to have some things in common. While she didn't share in his prudish sense of propriety, she did have a strong sense of respectful decorum, and they both seemed to share a disdain for the common masses, though not of the same intensity. It was easy to keep him talking about these subjects, and for a brief moment she actually regretted having to kill him.
"I have heard you are disinterested in romantic pursuits," she mentioned. The other overlord stiffened at the sudden, uncomfortable topic. "Is that true?"
"It is," he answered, curtly. "Why?"
"It's a pity," she sighed, dejectedly. "I have been with many men, but none that interest me in the way you do."
He grimaced, stiffly sitting up as he suddenly found it very difficult to relax. "I get that a lot, and frankly my dear I find the topic exhausting."
"Oh?" she asked, sitting up as well. "And no one has ever interested you? Not even a fleeting fancy?"
Alastor growled in warning. "No."
Despite knowing he lacked the libido of most men, she hadn't expected him to become so uncomfortable. Getting him to sit up meant that her underlings could put the finishing touches on the web, but if he got too testy, he might get up and take notice of her scheme. She needed him to sit back into the strands, or else this plan would fail, but to do that she needed him to be comfortable again. "I apologize, I meant no offense." Looking out over the balcony from her seat, she sighed. "For me, sex is necessary for my survival. I am not accustomed to being in the presence of those who find the topic… distasteful. Forgive my rudeness."
While he didn't relax his posture, he did soften his smile slightly. "No… I suppose someone like myself is rather alien to you, though you are far from alone in that opinion."
"Still, there is a… genuineness to a conversation with a man who does not desire you," she breathed. It was true, even if she found his modesty laughable. Virginity to her is more something to be pitied than celebrated, but she dared not say so and offend him further. "Still, I'm sure your charm and stature could get you anything you need. It would be beyond simple for a man like you to toy with the lustful desires of others."
"I have done so, on occasion," he admitted with a chuckle. "In one case, I'm afraid the woman has refused to give up on the notion that time and persistence will eventually win my affections."
She giggled, knowingly. "Yes, I can only imagine the troubles such an approach can cause. Fortunately, I eat my partners before they can become a problem."
"An approach I can not take, sadly," he sighed. "I do not eat women."
Jorōgumo's eye twitched at the mention of something so reminiscent of sentimentality. Fearing she may have been wrong about his cruelty and brutality, she asked, "Oh? Then how have you become so greatly feared, I wonder, if you're so soft on women?"
"Make no mistake; I will kill any woman who poses a threat to me, present company included." When his shadow seemed to grow behind him for a moment, she worried he intended to get hostile, but luckily it vanished in an instant, though the shift was rather unnerving on its own. "However, I will always show women their due respect, so long as they give me no reason to do otherwise. That includes a swift, painless death, and I have never met a woman who has pushed me to the point of giving them a torturous end."
The matriarch gulped silently, and briefly wondered if she was in over her head. If he decided to attack her now, she could not match his power, and if anything went wrong tonight, she would likely be the first woman to suffer under the sadism the man was widely reputed for. Despite the web being finished, the temptation to call this off and pursue a lesser man nearly won; one who shared in physical desires. Perhaps she should wait for a more foolish victim, though what fool could ever possess the power this man carried?
This was her only chance, and she knew it.
"Oh dear," she said, suddenly. "I'm afraid this topic has taken us completely off of our business."
His ears straightened, as though he had actually forgotten about their previous topic. "You're right, of course! Now, the promised patronage you mentioned is quite generous…"
Alastor sat back in the chair, looking over the balcony as he continued to discuss her sponsorship. Then he felt… strange. His arms felt heavy, and his muscles felt the sudden need to rest. It wasn't until a tingling sensation seemed to run through his very bones that he said, "My dear, I'm afraid this chair is becoming rather uncomfortable. Perhaps we could walk and talk?"
Then he turned to look at Jorōgumo. Or he would have, if movement were possible. His eyes were the only part of him that moved, and from his side-long glance, he saw that she was smiling.
It was not a sweet smile.
"No, I don't think that will be necessary," she purred, standing up and walking over to his chair. She could see him trying to move his jaw to reply, but his eyes widened as even that movement was now beyond his grasp. "I have a very different activity in mind."
When she sat in his lap, his internal radio sounded off in a panic. She cupped his face with a hand, and he couldn't recoil no matter how badly he wanted to. However, when she leaned towards his face, he revealed that he didn't need a working jaw in order to speak. "Get your filthy mouth away from me, you whore!"
Pausing in surprise, she gave him a malevolent, coy smirk. "Oh, but you will love what I have in mind. Pleasant dreams, Alastor."
When she crashed her mouth into his, he felt sick as his first kiss was stolen in a most disgusting way. Nausea coiled in his stomach, and when he felt her tongue he just wanted to hurl. But then, after another miserable moment, he slipped away into a very troubled sleep.
