Deals and Drinks and Slightly Depraved Desires (Closed RP for Richard and Camilla)
((Backdated to 7/17ish.))
Demon deals were, in the crudest of terms, a shit idea. Literature was strewn with examples; the mortal very rarely got the good end of the stick. And yet...
When the jovial guy with yellow eyes had offered Richard anything, he hadn't hesitated. One word, spoken with a fevered reverence, as if he was summoning some ancient goddess to rise from the incense and dust of her alter and walk among them. One word and it was done. The price was some favor to be done later, but Richard barely heard the terms. He walked out of the Great Hall - he had simply come down for a cup of coffee and maybe some breakfast, never knowing that he'd chosen a seat next to destiny in the form of a very average man - with a spring in his step and a sense of very clear purpose. This was his right. He would have what he wanted. Finally.
The day was spent in a walk around the grounds. Richard saw the world in a new light. He would have her. Finally, she would be his. Not Henry's. Not Charles'. He deserved this every bit as much as anyone else. After everything, she would see. She would realize.
Camilla would come to him. The demon had promised her to him. The terms were not important, the wording was a detail he didn't need to bother with. He'd said 'Camilla' and the demon had smiled - something cold and chilling that made him think of worms on a corpse or the winter's breeze across dead grass - and nodded and that was enough.
Finally making his way back to his room, Richard sat in the chair by the fire with a glass of scotch and a cigarette. Waiting.
Demon deals were, in the crudest of terms, a shit idea. Literature was strewn with examples; the mortal very rarely got the good end of the stick. And yet...
When the jovial guy with yellow eyes had offered Richard anything, he hadn't hesitated. One word, spoken with a fevered reverence, as if he was summoning some ancient goddess to rise from the incense and dust of her alter and walk among them. One word and it was done. The price was some favor to be done later, but Richard barely heard the terms. He walked out of the Great Hall - he had simply come down for a cup of coffee and maybe some breakfast, never knowing that he'd chosen a seat next to destiny in the form of a very average man - with a spring in his step and a sense of very clear purpose. This was his right. He would have what he wanted. Finally.
The day was spent in a walk around the grounds. Richard saw the world in a new light. He would have her. Finally, she would be his. Not Henry's. Not Charles'. He deserved this every bit as much as anyone else. After everything, she would see. She would realize.
Camilla would come to him. The demon had promised her to him. The terms were not important, the wording was a detail he didn't need to bother with. He'd said 'Camilla' and the demon had smiled - something cold and chilling that made him think of worms on a corpse or the winter's breeze across dead grass - and nodded and that was enough.
Finally making his way back to his room, Richard sat in the chair by the fire with a glass of scotch and a cigarette. Waiting.