Thread: A Devil's Game ::: {Ariamella & Prince of Smut}

RE A Devil's Game Ariamella Prince Balthazar was used to such mocking reactions from the Book these days. It was a cynical age and natural believers in magic, the supernatural, and certainly deals with a devil were often only the crazy or deranged. No, today's mortals liked science, facts, and cold hard evidence over belief. They thought that greater powers had faded from the land and religion was an act of faith that only showed tangible reward when their time on this world had ended. Of course, in truly desperate moments, or times when emotions clouded their judgment, leaps of faith still happened. And those were the moments that Balthazar waited for. Mon ange , I assure you it is no hoax. If those are your wishes, I'm sure the Book can help you, Balthazar replied with a chuckle, looking amused at her disbelief. But I sense you want more, you want assurances that you will rise to the top in your career. That your path to success is set and will make your name shine brightly. That all the putain that try to block you will be cast down and exposed. Faust's signature caught Macy by surprise and he smiled slyly as she studied it. If she had spent more time within the pages, she might even find other, more recent, celebrities among the countless unknowns that filled it. Names like Joplin, Cobain and Winehouse, who got their wish and paid their price at the tender age of 27 in full in return for immortal glory in their craft. Perhaps she might even begin to believe the authenticity of the Book if she studied it in detail. But Balthazar knew there was a dangerous balance to be struck, for if she believed the Book was real she might be scared to add her own name to the list, and by consequence her mortal soul. There were rules of engagement older than Balthazar and he couldn't outright trick her-- what he sought must be freely given-- but many mortals these days would agree to such a monumental deal while in a state of partial belief and half-jest, thinking they were just signing some old crock's silly joke of a therapy device. It was a ploy that hadn't failed him yet. Let her think him a little crazy, but give her enough to half-believe. Let her own hurt, anger and vanity do the rest. I can't guarantee it as I don't know the nature of your wishes, but I assure you that the Book can accommodate most desires. Certainly those that I think bother you. The more personal and specific your need, the more likely it can help, continued Balthazar as he sat down next to Macy again and crossed his legs. He was relaxed now, dark eyes shining in a strange fashion as he stared at her and suddenly he seemed to exude confidence. Of course there is the pesky price, your soul. Many have decided such an intangible, theoretical asset is worth the price to have their dreams fulfilled in their lifetime. After all, you only live once, right mon ange ? Balthazar sat up suddenly and grew animated, his voice rising as he began to talk. He wove an image for her, using his words, his hands and his suddenly expressive face. An image of what he sensed she hungered for. Imagine if the venial CEO of Brandon-Demmings were fired, his trysts exposed. The slatterns cast down publicly and shamed for their hussy acts. That you were promoted, not just to some assistant position, but into a full editor slot based on the new CEO's review of your work. The youngest full editor in Couture history. And you were beautiful, more attractive than any of the putain left in your office, and with a wardrobe the envy of your peers. Not that you need the looks to get ahead given you will be quickly known as smart and talented from your incredible work. You'd rise to fame in the industry, promotions coming fast as you make a name for yourself. Perhaps you'll found your own magazine that will rise to crush Couture as the most influential in the fashion industry. Macy Hill, under 30, and the undisputed Queen of her industry. Balthazar sighed at the end, letting his hands fall from the supplicating posture he had adopted in describing her atop the fashion world. He needn't mention the price, that at her peak she'd pay with the soul he'd already mentioned. Her tragic death would cement her legend for generations and add to the mystique of her legacy. You may think I am crazy, that this is some joke. But if there was a chance, wouldn't it be worth it to sign the book? If nothing else, it'll make you sleep better tonight to imagine this little fantasy. And if doesn't work, I'll give you a 20 store credit tomorrow to use on whatever trashy relationship novel you think might better improve your mood, Balthazar wrapped up his pitch and produced a fountain pen from a pocket inside his jacket, proffering the black tool to Macy with a slight bow of his head. The page she had open was empty. A blank, slightly yellow piece of parchment ready for her signature. It is your choice mon ange . Merely write that you wish to have your ambitions fulfilled as I described and sign.