[devil's den] doomsayer

“Do not touch me…”

The soft purred tone echoed in the less than legal establishment. Glass, from bottles to wine glasses began to tremble slowly as blue faded into deep brown pupils. Maia’s back was turned, but her arm was caught up in a strong grasp. She could not pull away without yanking herself, and it would be a terribly embarrassing display if she’d fallen to the ground. However she was trapped, and she hated being trapped. Her full pink lips curved into a less than pleasant smile, before she turned to look at her assailant.

He was a businessman, one of those non-descript ones that she could barely remember from events that she’d attended. when she was on Helmut’s arm. Maia had gone to this place that Gregoire had mentioned off hand, the Devil’s Den. She liked places with interesting names, and interesting menus. She’d been seated at the bar, people watching. There was this prettiest drink called ’Orochi’ that she’d tasted (not that alcohol did anything for her) but it tasted well. She’d been at peace in this den of thieves and criminals, when he’d show’d up.

He’d attempted to slip his arm around her waist, and ducked his face into her neck. She’d felt his slobber against her skin, as he’d tried to seduce her. As if that was something she’d wanted. Maia had tried to be polite, tried to wiggle out of it, but his grip had been too tight. Maia tried to tug away, sighing when he just wouldn’t let go. She’d tried. Honestly, she had. A malicious, almost sinister smile curled her lips as she turned.

Small hands trailed up the man’s arms, and traced his adam’s apple with her thumb. It bobbed dangerously, as her nail pushed against it slowly, but he was too focused on her blue gaze. “Oh, love of mine…you must not desire your hands. I say Don’t touch me, right pet?” Her low drawl was laced with her magic, and he whined and nodded. Even with her sharp nails pressing against his skin, and blood dripping down his skin. She flicked her gaze down and smirked, about to go further, before strong hands were wrapped around her upper arms and she was lifted in the air.

She was floated through the air, surrounded by by two large brutes. She hissed at them, showing of small slightly elongated canines as she tried to struggle out of their grasp. Finally, she was shown to a backroom. She was not to gently dropped to the floor, and she fell to her knees. Letting out a soft whine, she looked at her tiny palms. They were scratched and bleeding. She pulled them close to her, careful not to get them on her dress, and struggled to stand. Before she could  get off her knees, movement occurred and she stared at the walking skeleton in the shadows. Her eyes glowed brighter, and she let out a little forbidding song. If he was a siren, it’d be known as the ’Don’t touch, not safe' song. Maia scooted backwards as the figure moved forward, and stared blinking as the face moved closer.

“…too close…” She hummed softly, transfixed, unable to move. "Where did you come from...?"

@Medusa

A thick plume of white smoke poured over ghastly pale lips as the brown eyes embedded in dark black eye sockets scanned the room. Oogie tilted his head back and blew the rest of the smoke upwards in a stream of curling white. Around him, the various dark figures were squabbling unhelpfully. They were always squabbling, these people, although this time Oogie actually had a stake in whether or not the group decided they were going to stop anytime soon. Slender, boney fingers rubbed the smooth back of the cards in his hands as he peered around the room. When their arguing seemed to reach a zenith, Oogie’s smooth voice cut through the noise like butter.

“Are we going to play cards or are we going to keep fucking around?” he asked quietly, his accent rolling off his tongue in rich consonants and soft vowels. They paused, all shared a look, and then ducked their heads in soft apologies. Oogie rolled his eyes and watched as they all reshuffled their hands, then placed their three cards all down on the table. Oggie was the last one. “Goblin Fist. I win.” But the words gave him no pleasure. Money in small-time games like this meant little to the man. This was supposed to be a “social” game, but Oogie took no joy in spending his night with these people. The criminal underworld was so bland sometimes, so devoid of character. A game of cards with various underbosses of other companies was always a bore if no one ended up with a knife in their gut.

As if some power from above had read his mind, Oogie’s lieutenant, a tall older man with grey hair, came up beside Oogie and whispered something in his ear. An immaculate white eyebrow shot up as Rohan explained the situation. Oogie quickly stood up, re-buttoning his suit and hiding the grin tugging at his ash lips. “Apologies my friends. There is a situation that requires my attention in another room. Please, continue without me.” He excused himself to leave, Rohan opening the door for him as Oogie left the card room. The hallway before him was long and elegant, muffling the noise of the bar outside with thick walls and heavy charms. There were men stationed at regular intervals down the halls in front of the various doors and staircases that led off to places only Oogie knew about. He walked down the hallway to where one of his men, Brutus, was waiting outside. Brutus opened the door and Oogie entered the room.

The creature before him looked up at him with big brown eyes. She was small but beautiful, with bright red hair and freckles disappearing underneath her pretty salmon dress. Not exactly the type of person to frequent The Devil's Den. She was singing something, the soft sound quiet and somewhat sinister as it wormed into his ears in a familiar way. Oogie’s grin grew even more, but he suppressed it. She asked where he had come from.

“This place is mine,” Oogie answered, gesturing around the room. “I apologize for being rough, but this is a place of business and if anyone is going to get their throat slit here, I prefer it be away from the crowds, you understand?” Oogie stepped forward and offered a skeletal hand. He helped her up into one of the rich armchairs and then sat down across from her, crossing his long legs and steepling his fingers. “Now, why don’t you tell me what happened while Rohan patches up your hands. He's an excellent healer.”

Maia’s head tilted to one side, then to another as she attempted to locate where his English was accented from. Then it occurred to her, then her eyes crinkled happily. She attempted to clap, but let out a pained whine when her palms struck each other. “…ow…” She breathed lightly, bringing her hands even closer to her. “You are Spanish! I am Spanish!” She exclaimed, wiggling in place.  She was happy to find another Spainard in this cold, dreary place. Maia continued the rest of her discourse in Spanish. “Where are you from? I am from Antzuola. In Basque by the ccean.” As if she wasn’t in the position that she was really in, her excitement seemed to light up the place. Then his hand was in her face, and for a moment she was transfixed. Small tiny fingers traced the tattooed bones on his hands, she hummed softly. “Pretty…”

And then she was in a chair, and was almost on level with the man. She tucked her legs underneath herself, and tried to get warm. Maia quickly removed her shoes, and pressed her feet against the leather, humming happily at the feeling. She loved things that felt good, and wished her hands didn’t as burn as much as they did, so she could touch them. Then another person approached her, and she stared him down. Eyes flashing, she watched him when as he came towards her with gauze and a potion. He began to dab at her hands, and she watched the small scratches began to heal. It was then that she could finally focus on the topic at hand.

“…I don’t slit throats. Not in public at least…” She shrugged lightly, letting out a soft noise as the man Rohan pressed on a particularly deep cut. “Actually, I’ve never slit a throat in my life. Too messy…” Maia grinned lightly, shaking her head. “And…I was handling it.” Her face turned serious. “I do not like being accosted in public places. It is not…the thing.” Maia didn’t deal with being abused. She’d experienced too much of that in her life to be accepting of it now that she’d escaped it. “He will not die, if thats if your concern…” She was sure that the man was still sitting at the bar staring into space, still bleeding. She hadn’t laid that deep of an enchantment on him, but he was weak.

When Rohan was finished, she stared at her hands. “He was right! You are excellent!” She wiggled her fingers, before reaching up to hug the man. “Thank you!” Kissing his cheek, she sat back down into the chair, bouncing in place. Her eyes, now the full blue of a Siren, turned to the skeleton man. “Now that I have told you what happened, what are you do to?” She tapped her fingers on the chair, a song in her mind. She could sing her way out of there, but she wanted to see what would happen.

“May I have something warm? I am cold…How do you work here? Everything is cold.” Wrinkling her nose, she pulled her legs up to her chest. She sent the man a pout, shivering maybe more dramatically than she needed to be.

“You are Basque,” Oogie said smiling, turning to Spanish as she did. His Spanish was elegant and refined, exactly the way Armand had taught him to speak in the presence of a lady. “My mother is of Basque descent as well, though it was a long time ago and she does not speak the language of her grandparents.” The girl seemed to bounce in her chair as she chattered away at him, as if she wasn’t completely aware of the danger she could be in. Oogie didn’t allow many people to address him so casually and he could see the looks his men were giving each other, but he would let it slide for her. After all, they came from the same homeland.

Rohan stepped forwards and did as he was asked, quietly tending to the wound with narrowed eyes and great concentration. He was Oogie’s most trusted right hand and there was no one else in his entire world that Oogie would allow to heal him. The girl watched and spoke as Rohan worked on her hands, the stiffness in her back releasing as he wrapped the wound to completion. Rohan was completely unfazed as the woman kissed him, his stoic expression comical to the bone man as Rohan silent accepted her affection, then disappeared into the shadows to attend to other business. Oogie gave a low chuckle at just how ridiculous she made Rohan look. That was impressive.

When she asked for something warm, Oogie lifted his hand and gestured his fingers at one of the three men standing behind his chair. Without saying a word, one of them left and returned with a thick mahogany blanket, draping it gently over the girl’s lap. Oogie nodded in approval, glad that Brutus was improving. He made sure to train all of his bodyguards, who were once surly thugs, into graceful and mannered men befitting Oogie’s business. “Is that better?” he asked. He leaned to the side of his armchair, resting his chin on his inked knuckles as he kept his eyes on the girl before him.

“Unfortunately, you are wrong about the man in the bar. He is already dead.” Oogie turned to Brutus, who nodded in confirmation. “You see, I do not tolerate such behavior in my place of business. Or anywhere. Lukas has a history and he has been warned many times already. He has been taken care of. As we speak, I believe Rohan is dissolving Lukas’s body and cleaning up the scene. He is a multi-talented man, very thorough.” Oogie watched the girl’s reaction, trying to gauge how comfortable she was with death. Oogie’s methods were well-known among the criminal community and it was no surprise that he liked to tie up loose ends. But normal people, civilians, they didn’t take to it very well. But Oogie had plans for this girl, if he had deduced her secret correctly.

“Now,” he said, as a tray of clinking wine glasses filled with dark berry wine was set down in front of them. “I assure you that no harm will come to you for defending yourself from the likes of men like Lukas. What sort of world would that be? But I will have to insist that remain in this room until you have told me me exactly what you are. Would I be correct in assuming that you are at least part-siren? I have met a few of your kind in my day, my mother being from a family who sometimes interbred with the northern clans. If this is the case, I would like to discuss possible business opportunities that could be mutually beneficial for the both of us.”

“So you are Basque as well. We must be friends!” She was insistent. Maia didn’t have many friends outside of this country (or inside, if she was honest), so she was of the opinion that another Spanish person in a city she was still unfamiliar with was going to be her friend. Unless he didn’t want to be, but that would be a shame? She would have to prove to him that he needed to be her friend, yes?

Maia’s attention was drawn away, and she stared at the brown blanket. She let out a soft hum, her bandaged hands stroking the soft material. “Thank you…” She hummed softly at the taller man who’d given it to her, before rising and wrapping it around herself. She bundled herself into the material, humming as tucked herself back into the chair. She was so busy humming that happy song, she didn’t notice that things around the room were glowing and shaking. Her daze was broken by the Hezurdura’s voice. Big blue eyes blinked at him as she slowly tilted her head to the side as if she was dissecting him with her eyes. Then she smiled at him brilliantly, and nodded. “It is much better, thank you.”

When the word dissolving was spoken, she wrinkled her nose in distaste. Her thickly accented voice rang with disgust as she turned towards Blanket Man. “You…melted him?” When the man nodded at her, she let out a scoff. “Jauna Hezurdura, please don’t put his melty bits in the ocean…It’s…not clean…” She shuddered softly, rubbing her arms. “Icky icky…But he is trash, and trash does not deserve to exist…I do not like abusers.” Her voice was low and humming with violence, and she smiled. If she was honest with herself, she was pleased that this man did not exist, just as she was pleased that her husband did not exist. “This Rohan man is also healer? He shall be my friend as well.” And that was settled.

Maia would have been distracted b the pretty smelling drink before the Herzurdura’s conversation went in ways she found…distasteful. She wrapped her hand around a glass, swirling it for a moment before tasting it. She nodded, appreciating the flavour. Then she met his gaze directly. “Among my people, it is very rude to ask what someone is. It is a very private question, especially as in this past war people were tracked for not being quite so human. There are still people who are finding us, stalking us and killing us.” She tapped her nails on the glass, before setting it down. “However…I understand many things. I understand that I am in your place of business, and using …talents that might not be available to normal…wizards. So I will ignore my…offended sensibilities.”

“I am at least part siren.” If more Siren than human was part, then she wasn’t quite telling a lie. It just wasn’t the truth. “And what is your mother’s name? If she knows my mother, I would be curious of that. We remember our family.” And then he mentioned business, and she scowled. “Ah, I do not deal in gold. Gold is…boring. I have enough gold. If we were to do business, I do not deal in gold. And I do not know your name, Hezurdura, and I do not deal with nameless people. Or you can be Hezurdura, because I quite like it. I have decided…You are Hezurdura.” And she clapped and it was done.

Oogie watched her with a strange fascination as she wrapped herself up in the blanket and sat down in the mound of fabric, looking positively tiny.  “Rohan is many things,” Oogie said, nodding at her compliment. “He is a very valuable asset and a trusted ally. He is a little shy but I am sure he would like to be friends with you.” In truth, Rohan wasn’t shy. He was stoic. The man was bigger and stronger than Oogie, having been trained in Russia to be a bodyguard and a killer. His skill with murder and cold-blooded torture were on par with his healing skills. It was a very useful dichotomy. “And Lukas will not be put in your precious ocean, do not worry. In fact, once Rohan is finished with him, there will be nothing left of him to put anywhere.”

The girl took the wine glass and took a sip, seeming pleased with it. Then her smile faded and she seemed quite miffed at his insinuation that she was a “what” and not a “who”. Oogie understood her anger but didn’t share it. In his life with the things he had done, he knew that he had long since lost the privileges of humanity and the personhood that came with it. He was a monster without humanity, and to be called a “what” always rang more true than “who”. But he understood why this siren girl would not want to be spoken to in such a way. Oogie dipped his tattooed head, baring his inky grey brain to her. “I apologize if I have offended you. I should have spoken more clearly. I know your people, like many, have suffered the atrocities of war and violence. My mother… I do not think you would know her,” Oogie said, giving his shoulders a delicate shrug. “I’m sorry, she has been dead for many years.”

Elvira Iturburua could be dead, for all Oogie knew. He had abandoned his mother almost fifteen years ago and never seen her since. But he was a careful man, and speaking his mother’s name to anyone, even in a room of only his bodyguards, could lead to someone tracing him back to his real identity: Guillermo Domingo. It was a name he had not heard to spoken in over a decade. It was possible that the Iturburua’s knew this girl’s family but he was not willing to take that risk. After all, what good would family do for him anyways?

He smiled, his skeleton mouth tugging up into a subtle grin as he shook his head. “You are not the first to call me Hezurdura, but I do not believe I have ever liked the way it sounded when anyone else has called me that. You may call me Hezurdura, though here I am known as Oogie Boogie. If you insist on calling me by a strange name, I must do the same, sirenita, if we are to meet again.” Oogie leaned forward in his chair slightly, looking the siren in the eye. Time to get down to business.

“I can offer you protection from those that may wish to hunt you,” Oogie said thoughtfully, looking her over. “As I am sure you can see, I am a man of no small means or power. All I would ask for in return is the use of your talents from time to time. You see, there are many people in my business who I need persuaded of certain things on certain occasions,” he said, being vague enough to hopefully pique her interest. “In most cases I am quite able to push them in the right direction, but sometimes things get bloody and it becomes bad for business, as you can imagine. No, I believe some of them require a…softer touch. If you come to work for me, I would give you the assignments and you will have the freedom to decline any clients you wish to not deal with. The rest I will have Rohan take care of in his own way.”

“And If you come work for me, I can pay you in more than just gold, sirenita. Just tell me what you want and it will be yours.”

“Oogie…Boogie?” She blinked, rolling that name in her head, tasting the vowels with her tongue, before shrugging. “I do not dislike it, but I don’t…want to use that. You are Spanish. I will not call you some English name. I do not understand it.” With a flap of her hands, she dismissed it as if it wasn’t even an option and smiled. “Hezurdura will do fine, unless you give me a better one. I will decide then. Sirenita is …acceptable. Though I would prefer that if we associate more, I’d like something more personal…” Then it was set. Hezurdura moved closer, and she just blinked curiously.

He began to speak, and unlike most situations with other human males, she took what he said seriously. She didn’t understand his motives, because he could not just want her for her gifts. People started off, wanting her to use her influence, and it always became something more. She was…distrustful of situations in which it seemed as if the other person gained more than she did. The tiny Siren didn’t like being used. Her nature was of the consumer, of pleasure. To not be fed was her least favourite position. And sex fed her. Pleasure, fed her. To touch and be touched, fed her. And she was hungry…Starved to be honest.

Maybe that was why she was leaning towards his suggestion. She stood, letting the blanket fall into the chair. Walking over to him, she stood close enough so they were face to face. Maia’s voice was syrupy sweet, but no Siren magic laced in it. “And what would I gain from this arrangement? I have a nice job but it was boring, I have access to almost all that I could dream of…” Her tiny fingers tapped a beat on his knee as she examined him clearly. “This sounds all fine for you, but it leaves me…empty.” She hummed that last word, full of her magic, and reveling in her power.

“You speak of all these words of payment, and wants and needs, but I would do all these things, and still be in danger. And I do not care to be someone’s pawn. I have done that, and they did not survive very long…” She smiled just as a shark would after a hearty meal. “How can I trust you to have my back as I would have to have yours?” Her nails absently traced his tattoos as she watched his face, and stared into his eyes. She’d never been so close to someone who would kill as easily as he did, and she found herself unphased. Unbothered. Maybe it was the fact that she was not very human, like her friends almost seemed to be.

“If you know my people, then you know what we like. Prove to me that you are of your word, and can fulfill all of these promises you speak of. I do not ask much…just a good faith gesture?” Then she perched on the arm of his chair when the door burst open, and Rohan came in carrying a thief. “Oh no…” She laughed. “How exciting.”

Oogie was used to being surrounded by beautiful women and he enjoyed it immensely, but nowadays with it came a sort of paranoia and caution. Beautiful women were the ultimate weapon, able to insert themselves into any situation and no one would suspect them. Oogie was very aware of this and often took advantage of it to gain the upper hand, but that left him distrusting when a beautiful woman approached him. It was the nature of deception. After all, a thief will always be afraid of being robbed. That was why as the little siren approached him, alarms begun going off in his head.

Except, she said was not dangerous. If anything, Oogie got the sense that she was already on the precipice and just needed another nudge. She had been hurt before apparently and unfortunately that did not surprise him. She didn’t want to be used and needed proof that he wouldn’t betray her. It made sense. Her tiny fingers traced up and down his tattoos, the sensation soft and coaxing as the skeleton allowed himself to be touched familiarly, allowing such impudence just this once. Oogie knew she was no stranger to the art of seduction, but he found himself not really caring. She was a lovely creature and he knew many others had seen and would see it too. As she spoke, he merely nodded thoughtfully and a smirk spread across his inked lips. He understood now.

But his response was lost when the doors behind him burst open. Oogie frowned deeply at the interruption, then turned around. Rohan was standing in the doorway, hauling a small, squirming teenager by the arm. Rohan pushed the small girl forward and she stumbled into Oogie’s sight. Her face was smeared with dirt and her clothes ragged and layered against the cold weather. Oogie gently pushed the siren to the side as he stood up from his chair, boney fingers rebuttoning his suit jacket as he turned to face the new arrival. “Nnamdi. Why have you come here again? What has happened?” he asked, as dark eye sockets fully focused on the girl

“I have something for you,” she said quickly, digging into the many folds of her coat. Nnamdi pulled something out of a pocket and dropped it in Oogie’s outstretched hand. There was no trace of fear in her voice as she looked the skeleton right in the eye sockets, familiarity having chased the fear away long ago. She was one of the street urchins he occasionally used to pass along messages or keep an eye out when he couldn’t send his men in. Oogie examined the object, recognizing it as a cigar. He turned the dark red shape over in his fingers, bringing it to his nose and taking a sniff. His eyes narrowed immediately.

“Where did you get this?”

“Took it off a man outside Borgin and Burkes this morning along with a couple galleons and a lighter. Tall fella. Big black moustache and a scar through ‘ere.” She ran a finger over her eye to show him. “Soon as I remembered what you said about that kinda cigar, I came right to you.”

Oogie’s frown deepened. This wasn’t just any cigar. It was fire seed and peppermint wrapped in tormentil. It had a very distinctive shape and odor. There was only one man he knew who would have such a thing. “Rohan, Brutus, Green,” he said, looking up at his men. “Please see Miss Nnamdi home and buy her a nice dinner on the way. You’ve done well,” he said to the girl, patting her on the head. The three nodded and Brutus gently ushered the girl out. Rohan lingered behind and Oogie came up to him. “Make sure she isn’t followed. Put someone on her house for the rest of the night and report back to me.” Rohan nodded and left, closing the door behind him so it was just Oogie and the siren left in the parlor.

Tearing his eyes from the closed door, Oogie let out a small, tired sigh. “Apologies,” he said, turning to her and switching back to Spanish as he sat down. “It appears that an…old friend has come back to town. He and I do not get along so well. He knows that stepping into my territory means certain death, so if he has come back, it must be for a reason. He is planning something.” The skeleon rested his chin back on his knuckles. “You see, this is why I ask for your talents,” he said tiredly. “I have many enemies and many responsilbities. Too many. Just as Rohan is my strong right hand, I need a soft left. A secret weapon. Someone whose methods nobody will expect.”

He leaned forwards, taking her hand in his own and pulling her toward him until she she was standing between his knees. “As I said, if you co work for me, whatever you want will be yours.” He rested his long alabaster fingers on her hips and drummed them softly against the fabric of her dress. “From what I know about your kind, actions speak far louder than words. If it is 'companionship' you desire, then I would be honored for the opportunity to show you how very sincere my offer is.”

She watched. Maia watched how the Hezurdura treated the girl in front of him, and she was confused. For all his tattoos, and menace oozing from his very pores, he wasn’t the monster that he could have been. She had lived in the den of a monster, in the very clutches of someone who would and did treat her like she was a tool. A weapon. She’d danced to the tune of her madman husband as he toured around, showing Death Eaters all of the wonders of the rich and depraved. Maia had been maid, entertainer, and all of these degrading things, without a word of praise. Without promise of protection. Without …anything.

And here this girl came, with her dirt, and her tangible sadness, and her usefulness. and she was protected. She was praised, and protected. Maia had never seen the like in her life. And maybe it made her decision. She wasn’t quite there, but she began to rub her fingers together, as she thought. Would it be worth it? Would she be safe in the grasp of a man who would kill as easily as he could praise? Maia watched his actions, eyes trained on his form, as if she wanted to memorize his every move like she could read his emotions through them.

He turned, and her gazed darted to the ground as the familiar Spanish words rolled over her. It took her a moment, but she put them together to make sentences that made sense, and for a moment she paused. Did he want her as a plaything? Pampered and public, but playing to his tune? Or did he want her lurking in the shadows until he wanted her skills? She couldn’t puzzle out his desires, and for some reason the words were stuck in her throat. She didn’t want the answers to be in the negative, something totally contrary to this imagery that she was building in her head.

Maia was closer to him than she expected, and her brown eyes slowly looked up to meet his. “Whatever I want?” She repeated, softly, a half smile on her face. She reached up and pulled a necklace from around her neck. A big iridescent scale was the centerpiece of the jewelry that was hand made, and out of place with her fancy dress. With a quick jerk, she snapped the rope holding everything together, and it was like the pressure that was building against her skin pulled closer and disappeared.

Ever since she’d gotten to the point where her allure was stronger than most could handle outside of the Siren only grottos, she’d worn this necklace that dimmed down her otherness, and showed her more human side. Her allure was dampened and weak compared to what now exuded from her form. Tiny iridescent scales revealed themselves along her skin, shining in the flickering firelight. There were many ways that she differed from most people, but these were the one that she was most aware of. Her eyes, now stuck in the blue that appeared when she was using her gifts trained on him, and she did something she’d never done to male before.

Opening her hand, she held the scale up to him, offering it as a token. It was one of her own scales plucked from her thigh, tied to herself and her very essence. When prepared correctly, it would protect him from many things, but her influence would be one of them. She wondered how much of her people he knew. If he knew even that.  “I…hunger.” She admitted, the Siren song riding the nuances of her voice. “There are many things that feed my desires, and you have tapped on one. I do not require…” She could not think of the word, so she just took a deep breath and shook her head. She had suffered, being in this place where she was looked as an oddity of wizarding kind instead of a creature who was as close to not being just a wizard as one could be. At home, no one would have batted an eye at her or the idiosyncrasies of her people. Here, she couldn’t even keep a partner who could amuse her, much less sate her without making her feel as if she was just second leavings. And here was a man who was offering her what she needed, just…for being herself.

She moved the scale closer to him, and ducked her head down. “If you keep faith with me, I will keep faith with you…” Maia said thickly in Euskara, before moving closer tentatively. “If you break faith with me…” She shrugged, as if it didn’t matter, however her people weren’t known for letting anything go. “I desire what you insinuate, but…I mostly desire safety, trust and the ability to walk as I am without the possibility of attack. Can you grant me these things?” Flicking her eyes back to meet his, she then turned the full force of her allure on him. “…And your show of sincerity would please me…”

The siren allowed herself to be moved closer to him and seemed to tolerate his touch as well. He made sure that his motions were neither aggressive nor expectant— merely indicative of his desire bring her close to him. She pulled something from her neck: a necklace that had previously been hidden beneath the line of her peach-colored dress. It glinted in the corner of his eyes before she pulled it off and held it out to him, the scale still warm from the heat of her body as she dropped it gently into his hand. He recognized the implications of her actions. The scale of a siren was an immensely powerful item if used correctly. He knew that if he could harness its hidden powers, it could be a strong countermeasure against illusions and false magic. At the very least, he knew that it could protect him from Alioth’s hypnosis, having done it before almost a lifetime ago.

As she removed the necklace, whatever enchantment she had been holding melted away and a layer of glittering golden scales bloomed across her skin like flowers in the sun. He glanced at the scale in his hand, noting that though it appeared gold on her skin, in his pale hands the scale seemed to twinkle with blues and purples. He had never seen this color of scale before, having only met sirens with greying scales whose color was starting to fade with age. This girl’s skin was bright and luminescent in the firelight, as if her very being was glowing like a gentle star in this small parlor.

When she spoke, Oogie could feel her strange magic humming through the air and making the surface of his skin tingle as if he were immersed in a bottle of champagne. Such a strange and pleasant sensation. It appeared that what she wanted was what everyone wanted: a place. It couldn’t have been easy for her outside of her clan or wherever she was from. There was a reason magical creatures like her tended to stay with their own kind. The circumstances of her departure and life since then were probably very grave.

As she finished speaking, Oogie’s fingers traced up the side-hem of her dress thoughtfully. She was much smaller than him, and even as he sat and she stood before him, they were almost equal in height so that he could look into her now-blue eyes. In his other hand he held the necklace she had given him, knowing that it was the only thing protecting him from the full force of her magic. He could feel her power pushing against the shield, already trickling through to touch his mind. He found himself wanting to tell the truth, to speak from somewhere deep within his heart.

“There is nothing more devastating, more lonely, than realizing that you must hide who you truly are. The fear that others will not accept you once they discover your true self is… corrosive and agonizing. So you will put on a mask to protect yourself and become something or someone else for them. But you must ask yourself, is it worth it? Does the tortuous facade you must endure to gratify others truly outweigh the costs?” He placed both hands on her shoulders, feeling the delicate scales beneath his white fingers as he ran his hands slowly down her soft arms. “I was once like you. The skin I wore was just a mask to hide what I was inside. One day I realized that I would never again hide my hunger, my blood-lust, from the outside world. The day I decided to show this monster, this poisonous evil, on the outside, was the day my empire was born.”

He ran his hands down to her wrists, where he held her small hands in his bony fingers thoughtfully. Then he looked back up at her with dark eyes. “I was wrong before when I said I could promise you safety. I can offer you protection from the outside world, but if you join me, you will fall into even more danger from people in my world. As I said before, I have many enemies. They will try to use you in order to hurt me. What I can offer you is not protection, but something even more rare and dangerous. I can offer you sanctuary. More than anything, more than money or power, I know that deep down, you are aching for someone who will accept the true you.”

As he spoke, he pulled her closer by the wrists, dropping the necklace that was looped around his palms onto the rug with a quiet clink. Her magic rushed through his skin in a wave of burning heat and he shivered, a smirk forming on his inked lips. “I will accept the siren inside of you,” he said quietly. “But you must be ready to accept the monster that I am.” Without blinking, Oogie ran his hands up the scales of her arm, feeling the razor-sharp edges pierce the flesh of his palms. He didn’t even wince, didn’t even feel it as his hands begun to bleed and he left a trail of dark red up her pale arms and neck. He smeared a large bloodied palm against her cheek and pulled her down to him in a kiss, the taste of her lips mingled with her burning magic and his own warm blood.

Her eyes tracked the movement of her scale, unable to look up to meet his eyes again. To be honest, she was afraid. She’d never been this open with another person before. Not Raj, not her family. She could still remember the face that her father made when he’d come to the school when she was sick. He’d turned his distraught eyes on her, like her growing into this mistake that he’d fallen into by sleeping with a Siren. It’d started this divide in her family that’d only grown when she’d been enrolled in Beauxbatons. That separation had only widened the gap between them, and it’d been hard to step over and bridge it, and she still didn’t quite fit.

And Jauna Hezurdura spoke of evil, and of masks, and her stomach dropped to her feet. She could feel the sweat trickling down her spine, because she didn’t like these feelings. This sympathy to another person, with regards to this feeling of other-ness was new. Raj…Raj could sympathize, but she was also less apt to hide herself from people. Maia had attempted to fit in, as well as she could, but with every turn, it was a brick wall. She was either too much, or never enough.

Soft exhalations puffed from her lips, and she reveled in his cool touch. Maia wanted to hum, she wanted to sing. She could feel every nerve ending standing on end, from her head to her toes. She tracked every movement as if she could imprint his touch on her skin, so she could remember it for as long as she could. Her body leaned towards his as if drawn, before she caught herself. “…Sanctuary sounds perfect to me…I…will devour our enemies if I must…” She whispered, almost shy. Almost sweet.

Then she was in his space, and everything was brighter. Her pupils dilated, and her breath came in harsh pants. She was small, but even closer to him, as he sat, he still seemed bigger than her. She stared into his eyes, shivering when he rubbed her scales the wrong way and it sent a cold sensation up her spine. Then they were kissing, and she felt devoured as if he was in the position of power that she usually held. It was exhausting, and she melted against him like he was the only thing holding her up. Her hands slunk up the smoothness of his suit, and she gripped his lapel in a vice, kissing him like she was searching for salvation in the press of his lips.

Maybe she could find home here, maybe she couldn’t…but she would try. Her magic and blood demanded that she must try.