The Overlord's Bidding

[Anonymous]

Melavie Whiteshade sat down at one of the outside tables of the diner called MacAvee's, taking a quick gulp out of a small bottle of whiskey she had just purchased; the brand of whiskey named 55 had become her best friend in recent years. She watched the others of the Space Station Cancer go about their business in the Red District. She waited, and even for a second hoped that he wouldn't show up, but knew better.
And, right on time, she saw that baleful plate armor that he always wore through the crowds, that always made him stick out where ever he went. He probably liked the attention -- he was that kind of demon.
"Morning, Paladros," she spoke dryly, throwing back another healthy shot of 55.
His face wasn't visible, but she could imagine a loathsome smirk behind the great helm. Standing over her by the table, he replied with his deep, sinister voice, "And to you, dear Melavie. How was your sleep?"
"Terrible, like always. Waking up every thirty minutes. Some little humming noise nagging me for a hour. And, of course, one bed spring that was bigger than all the rest digging into my side all night," she relayed her awful experience, taking a pack of Haviahn cigarettes out of her pocket, lighting one, and taking a quick puff.
Paladros chuckled amusedly, replying with mock sympathy, "You... poor... thing." He crossed his armored arms and continued, "Are you sober enough to carry on a conversation, or shall I have your intoxication beaten out of you?"
Melavie shook her head and laughed a little. "You did this to me."
Paladros slowly walked around to be behind her, then laid his hand on her shoulder. "Come now, Melavie. All I did was push you toward the edge..." He squeezed tightly, the metal of his gauntlet digging into the flesh of her shoulder. "It was you, Melavie, who made the choice to jump. Your wanton alcoholism is your own fault."
He chuckled again and released his grip on her shoulder, walking around to her other side as she took another sip of 55 and another drag on her cigarette. "Tartarus is getting that weapon you wanted from the armory," she told the Overdemon what he wanted to know.
"Ah... perfect. And the dark elf?" asked Paladros, sounding pleased.
"Detris is trying to get a ship that'll carry your private army. Didn't say when he'd be back, though," answered Melavie, blowing out some smoke from her nose.
"Very good," spoke Paladros approvingly. "And I trust that you are attending to your errands as well, Melavie? Keeping this fledgling diner in business, hmm?"
She swatted him on the side of his leg armor and justified herself, "I need this. Don't judge me. I'm getting to it in good time."
"Up," Paladros spoke simply, making a raising motion with his right hand. Melavie suddenly found herself out of her seat and standing up. "Now then, go and do as I have bidden you, Melavie. Find me others with services that I can use. If you are wise, you will not come back alone, or I might entertain the thought of having you finish the sculpting of Plaetea with your bare hands..."
She growled in protest as she was supernaturally lifted from her seat, then grabbed her bottle of 55 and snapped back, "Alright. Going. Just don't do that... I hate it when you do that."
As Melavie looked left and right, trying to decide which way to go down the Red District's main throughway, Paladros sauntered into MacAvee's -- he desired to have a little chat with the proprietor of the diner.

[Anonymous]

Dealing with some spirits was like dealing with a cat. If it happened to be thinking the same thought, it would look like it was following orders, if not... well that pretty much summed up the current situation.

Maybe summoning Quincy to take care of the 'gremlins' in the young woman's little computer wasn't such a good idea. Quincy either didn't understand that she needed to destroy something in the computer or she was showing her age. If there was something in the possession, it meant the owner was possessed. As soon as Quincy materialized she ran her sabers through the young woman's forehead and chest and there was a dying girl at his feet.

This wasn't the problem. It solved the problem of where Triphon was going to get his next meal. Or at least, it would have solved it if Quincy just dematerialized like she was supposed to. Instead she took off, quickly skirting around the bar, going Goddess knew where. One mysterious homicide shouldn't shake the space station up too much, but multiple victims with similiar wounds would be... bad, definitely bad.

"No hard feelings," Triphon tipped his hat to the young woman, who began twitching fiercely, and began running after Quincy, screaming "Quincy!! Get back here!"

Quincy looked like she was headed for the main street and somersaulted over anyone in her way, which was almost reassuring. It only meant she was on her way to off some major nasty and he couldn't convince whoever it was plaguing to pay him for the deed. Damn single-minded spirits. Triphon could barely keep Quincy in sight when she finally got to main street and had to look for snatches of her purple hair or wait to see her flip through the air.

Then she stopped. Just screeched to a halt in front of some diner and looked at it. Triphon pounced on her, pinning her shoulders to the ground and straddling her back. His hat flying off his head and rolling a foot or two before stopping. A pretty weird sight, but he'd rather any passersby see a grown man in a black greatcoat with a long white stole and gauzy white ruffles spilling from the neck and cuffs tackle a girl in a black halterdress, gloves, stockings and boots carrying a pair of silver sabers than that same girl randomly killing something. Triphon leaned forward and whispered into Quincy's ear.

The banishing worked, Quincy vanished. Either she decided to follow her contract or, very unlikely, she had second thoughts about whatever she was chasing. That wasn't very Quincy-like though. Triphon would just have to be prepared the next time he summoned her in the Cancer.

Now to rescue his hat, before some idiot stepped on it and bent all the feathers...

[Anonymous]

Melavie laid her bottle of 55 to rest on the wide railing that partially surrounded the outside diner area, and then took another puff of her cigarette.
Paladros be damned. At the very least I'm gonna finish my smoke, Melavie thought to herself. Hear that Paladros? Fuck you. Nya-nya-na-nya-nya. Whatever. I love you, nicotine.
Then, suddenly, some woman with swords got tackled by a man who surely must have been secure in his sexuality. But that wasn't even the real kicker: The man then whispered something into the woman's ear and she disappeared. Poof. Gone.
Melavie nearly dropped her cigarette. This could be nothing, but it could also be the best thing to happen to her in months. She deduced that either the woman could teleport on her own, the man or someone else teleported her away, or that the woman was summoned by him, which would make him a summoner. Summoners were always useful, and she knew Paladros loved and collected summoners like a lonely, crazy woman would do with cats.
She needed to get his attention, and he needed to get his hat, so Melavie took a few steps toward the fallen headgear and picked it up, whirling around to face Triphon. She twirled the hat around in one hand, and took another drag on her cig with the other, saying, "Bra-vo. You single-handedly saved us all."
Smoke slowly billowed out of her mouth, and she smiled when she was done expelling it from her lungs. "So what was that all about, hotshot? You do that to all the girls you meet?"
Her smile turned into a smirk ever so slowly, and she took another savory puff on her cigarette, looking Triphon straight in the eyes.


Paladros entered the diner, taking a moment to look about its insides. To his left was more of a diner area, though it wasn't too busy today or at the time it seemed. To his right was a convenience store area, with several rows of different snacks, drinks, and useful everyday items. And, to his front, was the counter, behind which stood the man he now wished to see. But Paladros noticed something else first, something that took precedence over the owner of the diner on a whim.
There was a child in the convenience store area, a little human girl five or six years old, looking over the selection of candy bars, while her mother was in the next row over gazing over the canned foods. Paladros simply couldn't resist the urge; and besides, he loved children, they were always fertile ground to plant a seed of corruption.
Paladros slowly walked over to the aisle with the girl, his heavy plate boots clinking and clanking the whole way. When he finally stood next to the girl looking down at her, she noticed that he was there. She looked scared, and rightly so considering his overall appearance and how his armor looked, but stood frozen like a frightened deer.
Paladros crouched down, though still above eye level with the girl. He reached his hand out, then plucked a Galactic Crunch bar off of the shelf with his armored index finger and thumb. He presented the candy bar to the girl, along with two coins sufficient enough to purchase it, though she looked confused and unsure at first.
"Take it..." Paladros purred. "Indulge yourself, little one. It is alright to give in to your desires from time to time, no matter what they may be."
The girl, realizing that she was getting the candy bar for free from him, finally beamed and accepted the offer. "Thank you, mister! You're not a stranger at all!"
Paladros chuckled a little, then remarked, "Oh yes, quite the contrary. Hurry and purchase it, before your mother finds out what you have..."
The girl, still grinning ear-to-ear, rushed up to the front counter to do just that. Paladros gradually stood back up, catching a fearful glance from the girl's mother, still unaware that he had been speaking to her daughter. He sauntered in the little girl's wake, watching her as she ran past him and to her mother, hearing the concerned mom ask 'What have you been doing?' and hearing the girl's response 'Nothing, mom.'
Paladros couldn't have been more pleased; Ah, if only he were still the Lord of Dark Fantasies... if so, he might have been hearing from her again soon. It was a weighty decision, but the chance to own his own world was too ripe with opportunity to pass up on.
The Overlord finally came up to the front counter of the diner/store, catching the notice of the man behind it.

[Anonymous]

Or... he could watch some woman bring his hat over to him. Either way worked. Triphone stood up and brushed his hands together.

Or maybe she'd just spin it around and he'd stare at it for a few seconds, while rubbing his cyan streaked, white goatee, before getting himself together. "No problem miss, I'm here most weekdays and accept most major charge cards. First one's always on the house."

What did this woman want? She smelled like booze and smoke and didn't seem like she needed an exorcism... maybe a séance. Only he wasn't well known around the Cancer yet and didn't exactly go around with a big nameplate that read 'Triphon, older than dirt/M/Cancer, Spirit go-between guy' on his chest.

Or she could just be wondering why he made an otherwise normal looking girl go poof. He couldn't blame her, if he saw another person sit on a girl and make her vanish he'd snatch the first thing that went flying off them and demand an explanation. Or just stalk them until he figured it out, depending on how much time he had on his hands.

Triphon checked his pocket watch and grinned. "Only on Fridays, sometimes I can arrange to on Wednesdays. I clear my schedule for Quincy, when she decides to go on a little walk she ends up picking people's heads."

Triphon's eyes, partially hidden by a mostly chin length mop of hair, were rainbow coloured and had black lids. The colour streaked past the outer corners of his eyes and stopped millimeters from his hairline.

[Anonymous]

Melavie laughed lightly at Triphon's two remarks. She dropped her cigarette to the floor, grinding it down with a few twists of her shoe. "I like your sense of humor." Crossing her arms around her waist then, she introduced herself, "I'm Melavie Whiteshade. Do you have a moment? I'm sure you do. Besides, I'm sure you want to have your hat back, which I'd be glad to give to you..."
She paused for a moment, ceasing her twirling of the hat to hold with both hands in front of herself now in clear view. She took the moment to look Triphon up and down as well, and the more she did, the more she noticed that he was an absolute plethora of different colors past the first impression of his large black coat. Hair with streaks, eyeshadow, and eyes that had all the colors of a bag of Fruit Chewies. That gave her a slight sugar craving, actually. In fact, once she was done here, she felt like going into MacAvee's and buying some Fruit Chewies.
Paladros was so pushy sometimes -- best to get on with this.
"I got a very important question that I have to ask you, and I want an honest answer, then you get your hat back. Fair as fair can be?"
She smiled wryly then, asking, "Do you have a girlfriend, by any chance?"
...Get on with it in good time, at least. This was about pride, and she'd be damned (again) if that sleaze-bag Tartarus got into a steady relationship first.


The man behind the counter did not seem to be too frightened when he saw Paladros. The reason became clear once he sauntered up to help him, however, and said, "Nice Power Suit, buddy. That must be some custom shit. What're you, like cosplaying a demon or something? Or are just another crazy space pirate?"
A Power Suit...those metal contraptions that Melavie learned how to operate and maintain and helped to outfit most of his private army with. Mortal toys, but still very useful, and this wasn't the first time one of them had mistaken his armor for one.
Paladros placed both of his hands on the counter and leaned in slightly, saying to the man, "I shall take all of the alcoholic beverage you refer to as '55'."
The counter man perked an eyebrow. "All of it, huh? You got a Hovertruck or something like that to carry all that?"
"In due time, human. But for now I only wish to own all of those wares." Melavie loved the drink, and now he owned all of it from the only store she knew of that sold it. How deliciously incidental...
The counter man shrugged, then ringed up the obscene amount of whiskey on his computer. "Wish I could go to the party you're gonna throw. Your card?" Paladros produced a credit card and handed it to the man, who ran it through the system. "Hmm... you... don't look like a Melavie White-... ah, whatever, it went through anyway. Well, enjoy your fourty-three cases of 55 brand whiskey -- it'll be waiting on you when you come back."
Paladros snickered, then said to the man before he turned around, "Good. Be sure that it is when I return... all of it."
He began his stride back toward the front doors leading out of the diner/store, catching a glimpse of the little girl in the aisle with her mom. She saw Paladros and couldn't help but to smile and wink at him. Precious...he could only hope that he emboldened her enough to pursue much darker desires when she grew older. Because if she knew she could have what she wanted, why not take it, regardless of the cost?
Paladros pushed open the doors of the diner, stepping back outside then.

[Anonymous]

Laughter was good, unless she just thought up a perfect maiming for his hat. Nope, maybe not, the hat seemed to be perfectly safe. Unless it was going to follow that cigarette.

Melavie Whiteshade, nice an oxymoron. Hat for a moment of time. Damn, usually he charged for them, but this time... Well he'd listen, get his hat back and then charge her. "It's a trade then, and I'll give you my name for free. Triphon, just Triphon."

Triphon came close to snatching the hat when she stopped twirling it. There was no way he could try strongarming her into paying for his time if he took his hat and tried to escape. He didn't come to Cancer to wear grooves in the streets running after and away from women. He kept a hand busy stroking his goatee and put the other on in his pocket.

His hand had a hard time staying on his face when Melavie's important question turned out be whether or not he had a girlfriend. This was interesting, he never imagined that his current status would be important to anyone other than himself. "Nope, no girlfriend. I can't afford one." He smirked. "Job's not all too steady."

[Anonymous]

Well that certainly was good to hear, save for the 'afford one' part. It was always nice to keep a variety of options open and available, especially if this man, Triphon, agreed to come along; she'd rather swallow plastic explosives then try it with one of Paladros' goons, and Detris wasn't very interested in her, citing a very hollow 'racial boundaries' excuse after she tempted him many times with the metaphorical 'I'm the muffin to your blueberry'. Oh well.
"I'll bear that in mind," she replied with a slight smile and a slow wink. She presented Triphon's hat to him then, saying, "A deal's a deal. Here-is-your-hat-sir."
She caught sight of Paladros out of the far corner of her eye, prompting her to confess, "But honestly, that wasn't the really important question I meant to ask you. On the bright side, you still get your hat. Go on, take it, I don't bite. Nibble, sometimes scratch if I really get into it, but not bite." After a suggestive double eyebrow perk, she continued, "What I really wanted to ask you was: Are you a summoner by any chance? Because if you were, I know someone who's big, tall, clad in maroon plate armor, and standing right next to me that would love to make your 'job' a little more steady, if you caught my drift..."
Paladros, as Melavie described, had indeed walked up and was now standing by her side. Though verbose at times, Melavie was a useful and loyal servant... loyal, at least, when on a tight leash. Perhaps she actually decided to do what he had asked in unprecedented time; or, if not, he would just have to make that leash a bit tighter.
"Paladros, Triphon. Triphon, Paladros," Melavie introduced the two to each other.
"You may take your leave now, Melavie," said Paladros dismissively, as he scooted her back with one hand despite her mild groans of protest. Then, standing before Triphon, he spoke temptingly, "A summoner, perhaps? I could use a summoner, and I reward quite handsomely..."

[Anonymous]

I'll keep that in mind, wasn't quite the response Triphon thought she was going to give. That meant she expected to see him for some length of time. Maybe? Exactly how long was it going to take him to get his hat back? Buying a new hat didn't seem all too unreasonable.

Until she held his hat forward. He stared at it for a second, glancing up at her and then back down at the hat. That wasn't the important question, he could take the hat and she nibbled, maybe scratched. Oh really? His own eyebrows shot up and he smirked, taking the hat and donning it. A nibbler with what sounded like a job offer. Maybe he should let Quincy off and run a little more often.

Triphon nearly jumped when, as she said, some tall man in plate armor (talk about a blast from the past!) popped up and batted Melavie aside after she introduced the two of them. Rude bastard. Didn't he know women had better luck recruiting men? Bah. He wasn't quite a summoner, but If Paladros was paying handsomely for one, then he'd fake it. Triphon spread his arms and curled his fingers back. "And I'm looking for a job. Though I usually like to be rewarded prettily"

[Anonymous]

Melavie nibbled on her bottom lip a little and swished her right index finger back and forth across her chin, continuing to not-so-subtlely size Triphon up. That was good, Triphon picked up the first bread crumb on the trail and apparently found it quite delectable, and she could only hope his lack of employment would lead him all the way into Paladros' service. But the 'prettily' comment caught her a bit off guard, causing her to ponder what that might indicate, and one optimistic thought came to mind.
Metrosexual. Metrosexuals were hot, and previously she thought they were only Aedolisian rumors. Jeez, he probably knew more about makeup, hairstyling, and fashion than she did! Must work on that!
Paladros didn't think much of the 'prettily' remark, but chuckled with a dark mirth, "Rest easily, Triphon, for your rewards shall be more than sufficient for your efforts." He slowly arced his left hand to motion to the table Melavie was sitting at earlier. "Come, and we will discuss what you can do for me, and what I can do for you..."
As Paladros began to saunter over to the table, Melavie trotted up to his side and beseeched him, "My Lord, could I trouble you to," she glanced around, then said the rest in a hushed whisper, "have Triphon do something for me, if he agrees?"
"I'm afraid not, Melavie," Paladros drawled, but then purred out the rest in an amused tone, "Use your womanly charms for your own ends."
"Damn!" she hissed, then broke away to go and get her bottle of 55, still sitting on the railing where she left it. She took a quick sip of the whiskey, thinking mockingly and disparagingly of Paladros, Use your womanly charms, Melavie, myah-myah-myah. Use your's, you fucking tin can.
Paladros sat down at the table, waiting for Triphon to take his seat as well. One of the most interesting parts of being the Lord of Dark Fantasies was hearing out the desires that each person so desperately wanted. He never tired of listening to them, each one just slightly different from all the others in some minute way so as to be delectable in its own special way. And so he was eager in his own way to hear what Triphon might want, when they got to it.

[Anonymous]

Paladros didn't have to wait very long. While Melavie was distracting him, Triphon eased himself into a chair, slouched, draped an arm around the back of it and stretched his legs out in front of him. His hat nearly toppled off his head, but a slight shift of the latter kept the former in its place. Triphon didn't believe in posture when it came to sitting down.

Out of boredom, he wondered what tied seemingly-normal Melavie and guy-in-archaic-armor Paladros together. Paladros was definitely the boss, but what sort of boss? What sort of work could a man in armor modeled from a design older than this space station have for a seemingly-normal girl and a summoner in clothing that was modeled after a style nearly as old as the armor? Maybe Melavie could get some vintage styled garb too. Something with a scoop neck and a corset to leave a nice little runway from her chest to her neck.

It was his own luck that Paladros sat down while he was still pondering that last thought. Then again, Paladros would have had to order dinner and chase something halfway down the street before Triphon began to wonder what was taking him so long. He wasn't talking... Did he want Triphon to start saying what he expected as payment first? Credit was always a plus, but asking for a Double Moon Ruby or Buy It Now! card seemed like a waste from someone offering what he could do for you seemed like a waste. He'd need a second. In the meantime...

"Is that armor real? Or a replica?"

[Anonymous]

"Oh yes, my armor is quite real, Triphon," Paladros reassured him.
Melavie made a quick mental note that Triphon took an interest in the plate armor. Did he like plate armor? Was he one of those history aficionados? He definitely looked like he might be one. But that'd be a pretty heavy present to lug around. And what kind of person trying to get anyone's interest would buy plate armor for them? Maybe he would like a Power Suit instead?
Paladros interlocked his hands and laid them to rest on the table, saying then, "As my servant, Melavie, mentioned earlier, I am Paladros, and I am the former Lord of Dark Fantasies in Hell. I relinquished this title in favor of owning my own planet, which I have named Plaetea. The Greater Powers have offered me this in exchange for my title, in addition to three tasks that they would like to have completed. And though I despise being Their errand boy, in the end, it will matter little. This is where you may come in, Triphon. Serve me. Aid me in completing the three tasks for The Greater Powers along with my other servants, and you shall rewarded... for your service."
"You almost said prettily," Melavie called to Paladros, managing to get a sip of 55 down between giggles.
"Silence, Melavie," Paladros was quick to respond. Then, back to Triphon, "Now then, Triphon, the matter of your dues. What have you always wanted? Fortune? Power? Fame? Immortality? Revenge, perhaps? What is it that you desire, Triphon?"

As Paladros went about asking what Triphon wanted from the deal, a hand fell down hard on Melavie's shoulder. Shocked, and in the middle of taking a swig of her whiskey, she involuntarily sprayed the liquid out of her mouth.
"How many times do I gotta tell you! Don't fuckin' do that! You know I'm jumpy, Detris!" Melavie snarled at the dark elf, now at her side.
"Jus' droppin' in to say hello, Muffin," said Detris with a broad smile, rocking her shoulder back-and-forth a little.
"And would you please drop the Muffin thing? I was a little drunk at the time, and that was the best line I could come up with, you know that." She brushed his hand off of her shoulder, crossed her arms and looked away from him for a second, before looking back and asking, "Well, did you get it?"
"Not entirely. Ma boys didn't have the ship here with 'em. It's at the Libra," Detris explained, distracting Melavie by snapping his fingers behind her head just long enough to steal the bottle of 55 out of her hand and take a quick gulp.
When she realized what happened, she shouted while wrestling it back, "Hey! That's mine! Ha! Got it! Motherfucker, don't ever mess with my booze... I know where you sleep."

[Anonymous]

Metal must have held up better than cloth did over the years. The last time he woke from torpor his clothes were moldy, and nearly disintegrated once he sat up. Not the best way to wake up.

Paladros, some Lord from a place called Hell (he'd try remembering where he heard of that place from later) got a planet for the title and a couple favors. Triphon sat up a little straighter and smirked when Melavie accused Paladros of nearly saying prettily. What had he always wanted eh? Fortune was always nice, a little power could be sweet, fame ugh no thanks, immortality would be a waste and he couldn't think of anyone he wanted vengence against. Triphon tapped his fingers on the back of the chair and looked

Wait... who the fuck was that elf? Muffin? Heh, that was almost cute, but it didn't quite fit. Ach, get back on track, Melavie was just one woman, there were plenty where she came from. He couldn't let Paladros think he could be payed with the girl. That would be worse than straight cash...

So what did he want? What did he want now... work, to continue existing, an easy meal. Hmmm.

"Nothing much," he said, smiling just wide enough to let his fangs show for a second. "I'd prefer never having to starve again and wouldn't mind living in, excessive comfort."

[Anonymous]

Paladros brought an armored hand to his great helm, where his chin would have been had he not been wearing it. Triphon's simple requests were actually quite admirable. Most people almost began to experience delusions of grandeur when the offer for anything they desired was presented to them, daring to ask for something they would never be able to achieve under normal circumstances. But, interestingly, not Triphon, and his request was indeed unique in its own way and very delectable, especially his choice to ask for 'excessive' comfort instead of just comfort. Paladros liked that so much he could almost tangibly feel it washing the sour taste of Melavie's earlier brazen procrastination out of his mouth and making his day.
He also saw Triphon flash his fangs for a fleeting second; how peculiar... he knew of a type of undead called vampires that had such traits, but he had never heard of one in at least a thousand years. Regardless, Paladros spoke, his voice laden with satisfaction, "That can be easily arranged, Triphon. Your feasts shall be boundless, available to you at a moment's beckon. And your comforts, which will be provided to you in all... due...  excess, shall spark the envy of kings. Perhaps you would like your own estate on Plaetea to house all of this? However you desire it, so shall it be given to you..."
Paladros slowly brought his plated hand down and extended it across the table, offering a finalizing shake to Triphon, "What say you, Triphon? Have we come to an agreement?"

Melavie and Detris watched and listened to between the two at the table for a moment. And, for a fleeting minute, Melavie couldn't help tickling her mind by thinking about how funny it would be if Paladros worked as a tele-marketer for some big company like Thanatos. How hilarious it would be to get a call like that, especially with the 'triple-fudge-sundae and I think I'll keep adding layers of whipped cream' way Paladros tended to talk when he got going on making a deal. Your text-messaging shall be boundless, available to you at a moment's beckon, with the new Thanatos Z90 cell phone plan, sparking the envy of kings and all your friends-
"What's so funny?" Detris asked when Melavie suddenly burst out with a fit of laughter.
"Nothin'. Here. Want another drink? I think I might have backwashed in it though, and that was before you even got here so-"
"Na, na, that's quite alright there, Melavie," Detris was quick to refuse her offer. Then, whether or not she was telling the truth about the backwash, ran his tongue around his mouth to check for 'chunks'.
She shrugged, then said before she downed the rest of it, "Your loss, D." After finishing the whiskey, she crossed her arms and awaited Triphon's final decision. He looked more than just slightly interested in the proposal, which was good, since that would mean a new and suitable 'potential' running with the group. But, best not to count one's chickens before they-
Ha ha! To hell with that! Melavie one, Tartarus zero!

[Anonymous]

Too much? At the very least they could both laugh, he might be able to pop in a comment about meaning what you said and he could get Paladros' credit card information as normal. Actually, maybe not. The way he was talking got Triphon imagining a sort of Pasha's dream scenario, plenty of living things of all types to be bitten and sampled amidst a gaudy harem.

Goddess, how could he walk away from that? He'd spend the rest of his existence telling himself 'even if it was a scam, you couldn't even wait to be duped, pussy'.

"Suppose I'll need someplace to put it all afterwards," he mused, sitting up and clasping Paladros' gauntlet. "The only great thing left about the Earth is that anything still lives on it and Mars... bah, any place Conn- Edanithites live is bound to have low property values."

[Anonymous]

Paladros was pleased when he felt the hand clasping his own, finalizing their deal and signaling this one's allegiance. His sufferance of Melavie was finally beginning to pay off; perhaps she wasn't as useless as-
No. Not yet, anyway. She had a long way to go to prove herself.
"You will always remember this day, Triphon, when your loyalty is repaid to you tenfold."
He had a few other lavish sayings to bestow upon his newest servant, but Paladros was distracted when Melavie, like a cat seeking attention, plopped herself down on the table between him and Triphon.
Wasting no time, she leaned toward the Overdemon and asked, "My lord, may I show Triphon around as I seek others for your cause?"
A brief moment passed in a kind of awkward silence before Paladros methodically and calmly took a fistful of Melavie's hair and flung her off of the table. She rolled across the metal floor, blurting out a host of hateful and nasty phrases, until she came to a halt by the next table over. Detris couldn't help but to chuckle and shake his head at the sight.
"Yes you may, Melavie," said Paladros was a curt, sideways glance at her, "but you would be wise not to interrupt me so. Your foolishness may leave you bald in the future should you fail to keep it in check..."
Bald? That the worst you can do? Melavie thought to herself. Bitch, I'll recycle you and make a fortune. What then?? "Thank you, lord," she mumbled as she got back onto her feet.
Paladros looked back to Triphon and said in a tone that was unnervingly sincere, "If she troubles you too much, kill her if it will please you." He stood up from his seat and spoke to Melavie, "I am going to find Tartarus... he is taking far too long for something so simple. Continue as I have bidden you, but return to the quarters during the closing hours. You had better make the best use of your time, Melavie."
"Of course, my lord," said Melavie as convincingly as she could.
Melavie eyeballed her master's back as he made his exit from the scene, while Detris didn't particularly want to make eye contact. He knew that Paladros would be more than just slightly miffed that his ship was docked in the wrong space station. He might be able to work one of his miracles in the meantime while Paladros was otherwise occupied.
Once the sight of the Overdemon was lost in the crowd of the Red District, Melavie wheeled around and locked her eyes onto Triphon. Grinning ear-to-ear, she spoke enthusiastically, "What can I say? Glad to have you on board! Do you smoke? Wanna smoke? Er, no, wait, that's rude. This calls for a drink." She walked up behind him and clapped her hands on his shoulders, "Do you drink? Sure you do. Here, let me a buy you a drink. Come with me!" She took him by his hand and started to pull him in the direction of the diner doors. "Let me tell ya, this is the only way to celebrate a new addition to our little team. Hell, this is the only way to celebrate period! Oh yeah, and don't be worried about Paladros or anything. I'm pretty sure hed care, but he isn't here to stop us now is he? Haha! First things first, then we can get down to business, Triphon..."
Detris just shook his head as he watched Melavie do her thing. It didn't take long for him to notice that she had this 'diarrhea of the mouth' problem when she got excited about something. Still though, despite her mostly offset charms, she was the most personable figure on Paladros little 'team' in his opinion.
Detris glanced over his shoulder, peering at the busy crowd of the Red District behind him, ever suspicious of something out there, then started after Melavie and Triphon.

[Anonymous]

Triphon grinned.  Payment for simple loyalty, how grand, all he'd have to do was listen when Paladros was talking and make sure he-

Oh dear... didn't do anything that Melavie did.  Unless Paladros didn't mention that getting tossed around like a pair of old sneakers was an occupational hazard.  Triphon tried not to look too shocked.  Partially failed at it.  He blinked when Paladros turned back to him and yawned, raising a hand to cover his mouth.  Paladros' offer made his eyebrows shoot up and he smirked.  Killing Melavie would be a complete waste, so he took the remark to mean that he wouldn't mind if he bit her.  At least for the time being, he couldn't be satisfied with one tap and had to make sure Paladros knew as much.

Now that he was out of the way, Triphon could find out a little of what 'the cause' was, if Paladros was in the habit of delivering on his sumptuous promises, oh and whether or not there was a risk of being hurled around.  At least she was easy to talk to, she'd just guess his answers and babble right on.  It was... entertaining.

Triphon stood up when she pulled on his hand, grabbing his hat and settling on his head while he stood, and followed her to the diner.  Maybe if she got drunk enough he could get a real celebratory drink in, but booze would do for the time being.  "Excellent - actually you've done your job for the day.  Qaulity over quantity yes?" He laughed.

[Anonymous]

Melavie made a grand flourish to drive Triphon's point home. "You know! I've been trying to tell him that for ages! Well, maybe not- yeah! Ages! But no!" Then, in her 'best' Paladros impression, "Melavie, I want more than just one! I need more! Blah, blah! I woke up on the wrong side of the rust bucket this morning! You're gonna have to get used to him; he doesn't like sensible ideas to be considered over his own. Gotta be why I drink so much..." She caught herself, perking up again and suggesting cheerfully, "But anyway! Let's see what they got."
Detris followed along leisurely behind the two, his hands deep in his pockets. He already knew Melavie's game, but what amused him was trying to guess just how long the newcomer would put up with her over-the-top antics. Being locked up in a cage for nearly five thousand surely had its effect on her, but it was fun to watch nonetheless. Well, it tied up with her 'love bouts' with all her ex-boyfriends.
"Hey there," Melavie hailed the owner of the shop as they reached the front counter. "What's the most expensive bottle you got here? You know... the good stuff."
The owner had to think about it for a spell, but before he could say anything, Detris interjected with, "'Scuse me, but I gotta say that expensive doesn't really mean best. You gotta get the-"
"Shut it, D. You dark elves can't taste the difference between engine degreaser and battery acid. Expensive it is!" Melavie insisted as Detris' brows twitched incessantly.
Shifting his eyes between Detris and then back to Melavie, the owner suggested, "If it's expensive you want, then I'd have to say Perenolde is it."
Melavie thumped the counter victoriously and added, "Ring up one of those then! Also, throw in another bottle of 55, thank you very much!"
The owner scratched the back of his neck, then replied, "Well... um, we recently ran out of 55. A man purchased our whole stock today and we won't be gettin' more in until the next shipment from Earth."
The ambient sounds inside the shop filled in the stunned silence for a moment.
"...What?" Melavie choked out. "What?? That's my favorite-!"
She turned away for a moment and brought her hands up to her temples in utter frustration. In her own little world, it was as if someone just curb-stomped her birthday cake right in front of her - and she'd have to wait until next year to savor that one particular taste again. And she had a pretty good idea about who the cake-stomping caper would be.
"That engine degreaser is soundin' awfully tasty now ain't it, Muffin? How 'bout a bit o' battery acid too?" Detris poked, smirking more than just a tad bit.
Melavie managed to perform an impressive 180 out of nothing but sheer irritation and demanded more than asked of the owner, "Alright then, can I get some of your 'Oh my god, I'm gonna wake up in a ditch' brand of booze then?"
The diner owner obligingly started to ring up the request, "Oh of course, I know just the thing-" When his eyes suddenly widened, looking past the three.
BOOM!!
"Freeze!" "Station security!"
"Hands in the air!" "Slowly!"
"Station security!"
It all seemed to happen in an instant: The lights went out in a bang, and the glass doors and windows in the front of the shop shattered inward and a half dozen teams of Station Security Assault Taskforce Officers stormed into the building, a couple more burst out of the store room doors in the back. The Assault Taskforce members were heavily armored, masked, and armed with rifles or shield/pistols with flashlights and digital sighting systems.
The diner owner's hands instantly went up, and Detris continued to look around apprehensively, drawing the ire of a growing number of the Taskforce. He scanned the darkened shop, looking for any way to potentially escape.
Melavie, as her hands went up gradually, said as innocently as she could, "I didn't do it."
The Taskforce was moving in cautiously, barking their orders at Triphon and Detris alike.