A Stranger I Remain (Nas/Closed/M)

[Painterlee]

Taking the first recreational puff of smoke, Belle chuckled, rather pleased at this woman, her stern attitude an the prod at Mephisto. She knew of her ship, and thus, her, in some manner. And for now, not in a bad way. Their eyes locked, not exactly with any kind of loathing, but just a simple attempt to understand who the other was, and no doubt this woman, with her worn face but fresh authority, had some idea as to the nature of Belle, even if just an inkling. Whispers of an immortal pilot. Or at the least, a changing face. For the moment, she let this other woman speak, it was only due, the respect Belle could tell she deserved. And after that poke at Mephisto, Belle was happy to let this woman take the lead, obviously well traveled. 

Belle huffed, joining this woman to look at her wounded ship. "I have many problems, with many wolves. But this is...certainly the bigger pack, yes." Another breath of smoke into the air. The two women seemed to find common ground very quickly. "It's a long and boring story, let me assure you."  Belle certainly didn't recognize this woman in any fashion. She had not been involved with the war at all. At that point she was doing fairly well for herself, and she may have caught off-shoots of either side at points, but Belle had always aimed to stray from large conflict. She, and her ship, were to remain an enigma. It had no loyalties with anyone, but herself.

"Me and 'the devil' go way back. That's almost a long and boring story." She repeated, puffing out the smoke once more, like these lines were a staple. Simply to let people know that following her tracks and the destruction behind them wasn't a wise idea. "Let me assure you." The words came long and drawn out, like she was contemplating something long been, and that wasn't exactly far from the truth. Belle turned a little more sternly, initiating more directing conversation. She wanted to get to the reason Mephisto had taken us here. "Whatever price to patch up and fill up, I'll pay. I'll pay for lodging, if we require any. Though, I cannot say harboring us for too long won't bring you trouble sooner or later." Hinting at the extent of the trouble she and the devil found themselves on the run from. "You sent us the coordinates, I assume? You want to speak with us?"

[Nascent]

The commanding woman turned and gave a low, dry laugh. "No charge, not for you. Is repaying debt, though I feel this alone does not really cover it."

At this point Mephisto stepped into the conversation. "Corona has been a staunch ally for me in times of need, and even though our interactions have always been on the business level--"

A look that wasn't quite stern, more strong and proud, came over the pirate queen. "Saving the life of my adopted daughter ISN'T business, d'yavol. Not from how she tells it." She took a few steps closer to Mephisto, to the point where she was definitely in his personal space -- it didn't take a demonic empath to tell this woman wasn't about to be brown-nosed. "I vas always vondering vhen she vould reveal vhy you did so much for her. Cybernetics don't run cheap, especially not the top-shelf variety. I thought at first you vere vanting her for a hound, a viscous dog on short leash, but she tells me you contact her seldom and pay her vell. I vorry you maybe be that kind of man, interested in things not natural, and try to take advantage of her."

She cast a glance over at Belle. "Now... I not think so."

Mephisto raised an eyebrow. "Your daughter. That's a new wrinkle in the skien."

"Da." The cigar was waved to one side, leaving a trail of smoke and falling ash. "Is, how your barely dressed friend says, long story. She was orphan after var. Gifted, but I am thinkink you already knew this."

"Yes." There was a slight smirk playing at the devil's lips -- and the moment she saw it the pirate queen looked like she wanted to rip it off, clean her boots with it, and feed it back to him the wrong way around. "Your name, however, is another story."

"Zhana. Zhana Helrecrose Klishpanov. During var I vas chief gunner for carrier; now, I am vho I choose to be, fighting the battles I choose to fight and followed by those that choose to do so." She stepped past Mephisto walking towards the Scarab, examining it.

"You chose to come here, knowing a debt owed to you vould be honored here. Fine. Vhatever. And as for this trouble, ve are not vithout teeth of our own." Her eyes turned to Belle. "Ve do not back down if a fight comes to us. I vas not the first to try to salvage this wreck, nor vas I the last to come lookink for it. Ve can take care of ourselves."

Zhana waved half-heartedly at one of her crew. "Jovalzki!" The pirate turned from his welding, lifting a heavy safety mask to look over at his leader. Zhana stuck a thumb in his direction. "He's the closest ve have to an engineer -- he can fix your ship up vell enough. You need food, ve have; nothing good, but is food. You vant beds, ve get you a cabin. Bored, stay out of engine room, bridge, anywhere with red tape on door. Use exercise room, vhatever, just not secure areas. No computer access, no messages -- nebula scrambles everythink anyway, so it's pretty useless."

"As far as a talk..." She blew smoke lazily. "Jovalski vill show you to my quarters in half an hour. Ve shall drink," She pointed her cigar at Mephisto. "And you shall tell me how Nadezhda is getting along. I hear from her rarely enough these days -- everything in burst code, barely any details. And perhaps ve talk about volves and things as vell. Your decision, really."

[Painterlee]

To say the least, Belle was surprised. Not just by this woman, how well off they seemed to be, but the 'hospitality' was not something she had expected. In all, she wasn't even sure what to make of it, just accept it, for now. She smiled, almost out of a slight confusion and surprise, not something unwelcome. Belle had certainly had enough of unfriendly forces for one day, and somewhere like this was as close as she could get to feeling safe now. Although, the fact she wasn't going to have to pay was certainly a plus. It would leave her in debt. Bounty Hunting often left her with hardly enough cash to sleep on a mattress and eat anything or stay anywhere, after refuelling, oxygenating, fixing the ship and restocking weapons ammunition. Once again, she had her little 'cheat code'. But the struggle was what made life, and she would choose to keep it that way for as long as she could.

Belle added to the smoke, along with her rather interesting acquiescence. “Kids, am I right?” Belle joked calmly, not meaning any offence, just an age old stereotype that had never gotten over itself. “Drinks sound good. Beds sound good. Thank you. I, personally, owe you. Debts owed to Mephisto have nothing to do with me. So I owe you.” The demoness pushed any stray hair from her face, before, with the same hand, doing up the very top button of Mephisto's coat. She'd made her entrance, and it was still cold. “You seem like a person even I could learn a bit from.” It seemed that Belle's language, from years, hundreds of them, and turned into something naturally gender neutral when it involved people she didn't know. Just one for sign that, somewhere, Belle cared for the customs and respects of mortals in some sense. Willing to change to accommodate people otherwise unacommondated.

Before too long, Belle and Mephisto were being led along a hall towards the cabins they would probably require, another chisel-faced man. It was unlikely that work on the Scarab would take less than a day, if not less than three days. It was almost like Belle was pinning, honestly worried about her ship, the closest thing she had ever gotten to a home. By now, Belle had almost finished the cigarette, just trying to make it last until she found a bin, not really willing to throw it on the ground. Belle smiled to herself, having registered something. “Looks like she was wrong.” The muse came to herself, not even realizing she was speaking allowed. “I'm not the last person to  have this little habit.” Adia. The demoness's expression soured visibly. Remembering what she had left behind, even if the single most important thing in the Universe to her was right at her side, she couldn't help it. Bringing herself back around, Belle prodded Mephisto in the ribs in jest. “I wonder if we get to share a room. God I hope they're bunk beds.” He would catch her looking just a little too amused at her own little joke. It was unlikely there were many double rooms in this place, and if there was, it was likely it belonged to Zhana.

“So, it looks like you've turned into something of a hero, between the last time we met.” Belle spoke, more directly too him. “Partly proud...partly shamed. You were never one to do right, let alone good.” Finishing the tar-laced stick, Belle looked at it. All she could do for now was hold onto it until she found an ashtray or bin of some kind. Even then, she'd rather stick it down the side of a bed than throw it on the floor, not that it was immaculately kept anyway. In the presence of their little guide, Belle wasn't going to open conversation too honestly. But at the same time, the two of them already had some kind of rep going on. Belle had a keen eye for keeping up appearance that leaned towards the more mysterious end of things. She carried that air with her constantly. Accept for when she was alone, by herself or with him. For the most part, that was her conformation that what was between them was more than shallow attraction.

Besides, she wanted to share a room with him. And she'd nearly be upset if they didn't.

[Nascent]

"Me, a hero?" Mephisto turned a greatly amused gaze towards Belle, laughter in his eyes. He'd clearly never been called that before. Bastard, demon, hellspawn, scum, incubus, deciever, scoundrel, all those and more were the banners of infamy that hung like tattered tapestries across his name, history, and self-concept; heroism, with precious few exceptions, wasn't in the equation of who and what he was.

But there had been exceptions.

He wouldn't need to say it; whether she was reading his thoughts or no, the look in his eyes made the meaning clear. He was no hero, but in this case he hadn't exactly been a villain either. Something else had driven his motivations to save the pirate queen's adopted daughter from an unfortunate fate, something far less intrinsically rooted in either ideals or egotism than the terms 'hero' or 'villain' would describe. It was more like he was... honoring something, someone, beyond himself and his interests the same way that Zhana was honoring the debt she perceived to Mephisto. The way he was looking at Belle, the subtle hints and clues in his expression, would give her a good idea of why he'd done what he had.

"You know I'm no 'hero'." His voice was low, just above a whisper. He shrugged, trying to act nonchalant but failing miserably. "She needed help, likely would've taken it from just about anybody. I offered her... a few choice words. Money. Hope." He paused, giving Belle a 'you know where I'm going with this' look. And she would -- he was echoing her own words to her from over five thousand years in the past. "Anger. I gave her what she needed to defy fate."

'Because that's what you would have done'. The words didn't need to be said; it was written all over him, his expression, his body language. And if she ventured a glance into his thoughts and followed the thread therein, other names, faces, and incidents would surface -- one or two within the last five years, though of far less dramatic caliber, and more, acts done before he'd died, women in need of whom he had taken nothing and to whom he had extended an open and undemanding hand. It was a policy with him, one he'd never spoken of -- one he'd adopted immediately after the business with Juviel, in fact. Out of respect for Belle... and out of a love for her that he had only partially understood or appreciated at the time.

She had changed him, this devil, this madman thespian. Her imprint on him ran deep and true, just as much so as the cross-shaped scar that would now forevermore adorn the back of his neck.

"In any case," Mephisto tried to change the subject, not wanting to seem like he wanted a pat on the back -- in spite of how much Belle's approval did mean to him. "What are the accommodations being afforded us?"

"Ship is very big, many rooms to choose from." Their guide gestured up ahead, where the rows of plain blast-proofed self-sealing metal doors gave way to ones marginally more ornate, looking like they may at one time have borne name tags and insignias on them that time and scavenging had stripped away. A few of them had fresh names that had been hastily drawn, etched, or stenciled onto them but most were blank. "This is the secondary officers' quarters, or vas, anyway. You can have any unclaimed room here. Is much better than enlisted bunks, let me tell you."

He pointed further on ahead of them. "Mess hall is two lefts, right, and straight to the end. Lift is right and straight; you'll find map in lift in case you vant to go anywhere else."

Jovalski turned to them both, a curious look in his eyes. "Ve don't get guests here, ya know. The commander isn't really the 'entertaining' type. Vhatever she sees in you crazy people, she must think you're important." He shrugged. "Anyway, feel free to settle in. If you need anything from your ship, use comm panel in room and ve bring it to you." He flashed a seedy grin, not unlike a used car salesman would. "And, hey, if you're looking for merchandise, ve got some pretty good stuff ve're not using. Maybe ve make a deal or two vhile you're here, eh? Hit a cargo hauler recently -- high end stuff, rather nice. You come see after drinking vith the commander, da?"

[Painterlee]

Her eyes met Mephisto's, reading that truth in his eyes and she smiled. She went to take another puff of smoke, looking marginally disappointed when she realised all over again that she had already finished it; it wasn't so much a chemical habit as it was simply to have her hands doing something. “I never realised that I had made that much of an impact on you.” Her voice came amused, no entirely truthful, more indulging in his unspoken tale of change, and time. But, silently, she appreciated it. They way he had come to remember her was a respectful one, and one she would have supported. In reality, she was flattered. But she would never bring herself to tell him that. At least, not for a while. Maybe when the Universe ended they could thank each other for a life worth living.

This ship was certainly sizeable, and it was organized. That alone spoke volumes about the kinds of 'establishment' Zhana was running, the kind that wasn't simply a blood-thirsty band of hound dogs. These people had rules, not doubt they had a code, a law of some kind. A kinsman-ship. A weird little fucked up family, and Belle wasn't going to complain. She rather liked the feel of it, it was refreshing. Outside of the law, completely, but not barbaric in any sense of the word. Obviously, from what she had heard, this place certainly had morals, they all shared a common interest. For a quick moment, Belle wondered as to the sheer breadth of this community. How they might pass the time in order to come close to a normal, sanity-enforcing life. It didn't seem like crew-members killed each other in fits of hysteria, so obviously they kept some normality. After all, it couldn't all just be militaristic governance. There had to be a line between work, and life.

Belle smiled at the guide, not so much pleased but that she question his ignorance. “I'm sure it wouldn't hurt to browse.” She mused at him, neither a promise of coming to see him, or an outright denial. For a moment, Belle simply wasn't sure if he ran that little enterprise himself, off of the records. Having faced their 'leader' the demoness didn't really want to get on her bad side. It was in his face, that smug grin of his.

She took a few moments to look around her, examining the rooms available. Everything without a tag or name. Continuing forward, Belle picked a room that was curiously as far from any taken room as she could find. Liking her privacy, obviously. Stopping outside the door, she examined it. “Sooo, no key-card or access code we'll be needing to open this thing?” Her voice came questioning, not too keen on the idea that just anyone could walk in on anyone else, tapping on the metal door curiously.

[Nascent]

He gave her a soft, telling smile, speaking without words. ~An impact unlike anything else, Belle.~ He gave her a slight, telling nod. ~Unlike. Anything. Else.~

Mephisto didn't really bother to respond to Jovalski's offer of 'shopping' with anything more than a shrug. All his assets were tied up back on Cancer -- he had a couple hundred credits in the pockets of his coat, the self-same one Belle currently had draped about her, but that wasn't really enough to do more than buy a few trinkets probably. "We'll see."

Jovalski pulled a small, worn-looking handheld from one of his oversize pouch-like pockets and typed in a series of commands. The door Belle had chosen hissed, the release of pressurized air ruffling their clothes for a moment before it slid in to one side. "Is made to respond to occupants vith sensors." He pointed to a tiny black-glass square set into the wall over the doorway. "If power goes out -- and it vill, from nebula or other things -- then manual release is there." His finger redirected to what looked like a heavy switch built into the side of the wall. "Von't vork vhen there's power; vhen there isn't, lift up, pull out, and door should open. Won't close, though. Can be locked from inside, da. In case you vant privacy." He gave Mephisto a seedy look and received a 'mind your own business' one in return.

The room Belle had chosen was reasonably spacious by military standards. A large central bed, unmade, dominated the center area with a desk off to one side. The door leading to the bathroom was similar to the main door, and a broad wall closet open opposite. There was simple overhead lighting and a large display screen that dominated the back wall behind the bed, doubling as a 'window'.

The devil glanced in. "Not bad." He gave Belle a playful look. "No bunk beds, though."

[Painterlee]

Belle didn't know if he realized quite the effect those words, spoken through to her mind, had on her. The things they did to each other, it was crazy, he made her crazy. He was the only man she would ever truly want and it was like he knew that a little too well. Not using her, exactly, but clearly he liked to elicit a response when he could. It wasn't like Belle could really help herself. Icy-eyes trailed to him, filled with knowing, a hint of desire playing upon her features. She knew that since they'd met again she'd demanded...a lot of him. She barely gave him enough hours to reload the gun, before her own desires took over. No, Belle would make a point to wait. But that didn't mean she wouldn't tease him all the same.

Her eyes filled with a second of annoyance, the air release of pressured air was cold against her bare skin, not exactly pleasant, shivering slightly. Jovalski explained the mechanism of the door well enough. Belle couldn't help but stifle a laugh when he mentioned 'privacy', and her, in all her snark and charm simply couldn't resist the opportunity. “What, jealous?” It wasn't necessarily a nasty comment., and more of a humoured one. These people had let them on to their station, let them eat their 'food', use their beds. It would be wise to stay somewhat on their good side, and that meant not pissing anyone off to any great extent. But her personality was unwavering, and for the most part, could only be restrained, and not switched out. The crew seemed tough. If they couldn't take a gab, personal or otherwise, Belle would be disappointed to say the least. Wounded pride was something she had already had enough of from Mephisto, she didn't need a whole crew of uptight morons, too.

She met Mephisto gaze with a similar expression. “I know. I'm almost sad.” Turning towards the unmade bed, she simply waved a hand, and it began to make itself. Up to this point, Mephisto had only had hints to her power, it uses and applications in everyday  situations...and more intimate ones, too. Belle strode further into the room, glad that it was warmer inside than on the outside, a small dial next to the lever for temperature control. Making herself comfortable, she undid the only button on Mephisto's coat she had done up, and shrugged it off of her shoulders, leaving her stark naked in front of the two men. She turned around with a grin waving at their little tour guide. “That'll be all, I imagine. See you at dinner.” She winked at him, before giving Mephisto an eye, waiting for when, eventually, the accented man left them. The she demoness walked forward, once again only in her high heels, brushing shoulders with her Devil.

Closing the door, she lent against it, giving him her best pair of fiery eyes, a cunning smile. “So.” She began, happy to keep herself against the door. “I imagine they'll be calling us in 20 minutes or so.” A sigh fell from her lips, a mocking contentedness, but her eyes narrowed at him. “Not a lot you can do in 20 minutes.”

[Nascent]

She always had a presence about her -- as theatrical as Mephisto was by nature Belle, to him, knew how to 'work a scene' far better... and something told him she didn't even know she was doing it at times. The look on the pirate engineer's face as Belle's powers made bedsheets and pillow covers obey her was one of slack-jawed amazement; when she disrobed without the slightest sense of concern, the poor man looked like he was somewhere between a mild heart attack and and badly needing a hard drink. Grinning at him, Mephisto made a rotating gesture with one fingertip and a slight point towards the hallway -- the pirate, briefly too awestruck to argue with the obvious hint from them both, turned quietly and walked off, clearly more than a little impressed.

She had that effect on people. It was amazing Belle had managed to keep her profile so low for so long... either that, or maybe she just enjoyed showing off in front of him, specifically.

Twenty minutes. The devil couldn't help a smile. "Oh, but I beg to differ. You can do quite a lot in twenty minutes, if you rush into it." He approached her, his shirt dissolving with a flickering of hellfire. The devil ran a hand gently across the side of her face, fingertips tracing her hairline and tucking stray strands behind her ear. "But I think we can make better use of the time without rushing... my love."

Mephisto leaned in and kissed her, slow and light, just the faintest brushing of lips. He smiled at her. "Give ourselves something to look forward to later."

[Painterlee]

As he came slowly towards her, she marvelled at him. Everything about him was unlawfully attractive to her. His calmness, his presence, his power, and more instantly, his body. Her hands were eager to touch the warm skin, just as unnatural as hers, scars from his past life told his story to her, his timelessness. He was his own infinity. She pulled him closer, arms wrapping around his neck as he brushed the hair from her face, leaving her a just a little short of breath. To her, Mephisto was a poison unlike anything in the universe. Just a look at him, his bloody-red eyes, and it consumed her, ran in her blood like the fires he commanded. His voice came toxic, yet true. Truth that you had to rush to get anything done in twenty minutes. And the truth that rushing wasn't worth it. Slow, steady, climbing. Tension was key, thoroughness was key. She couldn't deny that truth. A fact that made him more than a man.

But he kissed her, anyway, sending  shivers through her body, a rush of heat and anticipation. But he was right, she knew he was right, and she had to get control of herself. Part of her still hadn't gotten over it, gotten over him. Or gotten enough of him. Her intensity was her only anxiety. That the way she was, almost always hungry for him, and not afraid to show it, would be too much even for him. Her sexuality was powerful, and now she had someone to love onto which to project it, and that might not be a good thing. And though she kissed him back, as light the touch on him as he on her, she reserved, and pulled back.

Her smile, gone.

No, it wasn't him. This was her own issue. He, thus far, had been happy to indulge, but how much was too much? Was she too much? The struggle was in her eyes. There was never that there, but it was. Like he was the only one she could love...but the only one who could make her truly think. Think enough to find flaws in how she was. Nodding, she looked down, resting her head under his chin, and simply spent a while breathing him in. “Yeah...” The reply came lightly, almost stoic. It troubled her, but how did two immortal beings, seemingly over their imperfections, masters of themselves, snuffers of their anxieties and troubles, being to talk about the image issues they had...with themselves? She certainly didn't know. It was something she had never had to deal with before. Communication wasn't a strong point.

Moving away from him, she dressed herself, filling the closet with clothes for both him and for her. She worked to make it somewhat homely, even adding extra decorative pillows. Her outfit was simple enough, formal. High-waisted black trousers and a plan white blouse tucked in. A hair band appearing in her hand, she walked into the bathroom, and did up her hair quickly. “Might want to make yourself comfortable.” She said, trying to change the subject. “We'll probably be here a few days at the least.”

[Nascent]

Mephisto looked at her, confused. Part of him almost immediately assumed he'd said or done something wrong, something that upset her. One moment she had been all playful teasing and feminine allure, and the next...

It wasn't that she was being cold, per say. Something was definitely bothering her, something that had taken the wind out of her sails, and almost before he knew what was going on she was all business, settling into their new accomidations in exceedingly practical ways. He found himself, shirtless, standing there blinking away the confusion... then followed her into the bathroom as she did up her hair.

"I am comfortable." There was no hostility in his voice -- concern, yes, but nothing that would be a reproach to her. "Comfortable with you, with us, however we turn out or whatever that brings." The demonic man paused, searching for the right words. "I can't read your mind, Belle, but I can tell something's bothering you. Please, talk to me. I want to help if I can, or at least understand." And now he quietly cursed himself within his own mind. "Regardless of how bad I've been at it in the past, I have always wanted to understand you."

"Whatever it's about, please confide in me. And if it's something you're not ready to talk about I'll respect that, of course. I just..." He was grasping for words again, trying to find the right way to put what was in his heart and on his mind. The momentary flash of her thoughts from the Black Sapphire came into his mind. "... I just don't want either of us to have to suffer alone anymore."

"You've had far too much of that already."

[Painterlee]

She sighed after a moment, looking at their reflections in the mirror as she tied her hair in to a loose bun, so to keep it out of her face, appear cleaner. Mephistos words hung in that air, dancing for a while in her otherwise occupied mind. Putting her hands either side of the sink, Belle lowered her view, staring into the ceramic bowl. He was right. Obviously he was right, and she agreed with him. Some part of her was still disillusioned with the idea that they were 'a couple', or whatever they were or could be called.

 For all her life she got by without anything personal getting in the way of how she worked, but now she faced that problem, realising that , at least in her mind, she had a problem, a flaw. Even if it wasn't an opinion of her they both shared, as far as she was concerned, it could drive him from her at some point. Suddenly Belle had discovered an insecurity.

After a few moments of silence, she turned to face him. Her eyes told him the truth, that clearly she still wanted him. Her heart and body agreed, but her mind wasn't so sure. Not that she didn't want him, her body burned like a dying star, but she didn't know if it was necessarily a good idea. Suddenly she was very aware of time, the time they had spent together and what. For the most part.had been their occupation during that time. And that she was by no means done with him. He satisfied her, of course he did, but not for more than a handful of hours at a time. By now, with that realisation, even she was annoyed at herself, annoyed at her body, seemingly never satisfied now she had a man that she really did love.

She was so... Human. It was showing.

But he seemed to finally be understanding her, listening to what she meant when she didn't say much at all. He really did nothing to help her, standing before her without a shirt and concerned. "I.." She started, obviously very distracted, and not just by his body. "Am I too much?" The question came with, asking it more because I'd she didn't take the moment to say it she never would. As if she didn't just legit out she would fester on it until she ruined whatever they had. Maybe it hadn't been clear what she meant, and now she had started she might as well elaborate for him.

"What I mean is in less than two days I've 'asked' a lot of you. Maybe too much...probably too much." She didn't know if she sounded stupid or not. She sounded annoyed at herself, like she was fed up with it, her desire. "You might say that's fine, enjoy it even, but what about after a week, a month...a year? I don't know if I'm going to calm down or not, get over, well, you. Even I'm fed up of it, annoyed that I can't control it." No matter. It was eating away at her viciously. There was only so much about herself that she could control, and her longing for him was not one if them. "I'm afraid. Afraid that if I carry on asking of you what I ask of you, that I'll just force you away, overwhelm you." This wasn't quite a petty sex-qualm. It was a concern of hers that ran deep.

She was intense, and that carried over in how, and how often, she loved him. It wasn't healthy, not for her or for him. Clearly, she was nervous, and a little embarrassed. She wanted him. She always wanted him, and she didn't know what to do about it.

And that was the problem.

[Nascent]

So that was what was bothering her. Mephisto was caught somewhere between concern and extreme flattery; he was worried with her, of course, but at the same time to have that level of an effect on her...

...no, this was serious. And no place for his ego to get in the way.

For a long moment he didn't speak, didn't say anything -- just pulled her into him and held the demoness close. She could've read his mind at any time, of course, and found out with ease that Mephisto didn't entirely know what to think either. It wasn't something that had an easy answer, this; there was so much tangled up in the future, in everything that could take place between them, that 'easy answers' were about as far from likely as he could imagine. But, at the same time, 'impossible' things happened. He was proof, and so was she. Did they have differences, things between them that didn't quite fit perfectly all the time? Yes, absolutely.

But was there anyone else he could ever imagine himself with?

No, not at all.

"Whether you ever 'calm down' or not is irrelevant." Mephisto said at last. "I don't care. It's something we can work out over time, together." He pulled back, hands on her shoulders, a pleading look in his eyes. "I don't want this to sound possessive, Belle, because you're your own person and you'll always be free to do what you want as far as I'm concerned. I just... I can't lose you."

"Please, my love," He brushed her cheek with his fingertips. "Please."

[Painterlee]

In the moments he felt his silence, Belle continued to shrink back, not quite ashamed, but put on the spot, more like embarrassed. His silence didn't assure her in anyway, if anything it made her feel more broken, that whatever it was they had with each other was more fragile than she thought...and that it was her fault. That she was too much, that she was overbearing. That sooner rather than later he would find her too much trouble, too much effort. That he couldn't keep up with her 'demands'.

By the time he embraced her, warm and comforting, she was all but elsewhere. Sinking into her own head, worrying. Even now that he was back, her existence was a tormented one. Having him back didn't so much solve her problems as it did replace them. It was likely she was still overwhelmed with his return, and she would eventually settle into a more healthy system of desire. But right now it didn't feel like it, like the fires he had always lit in her were ready to burn for more than eternity, and that something out there that revelled in her suffering would make sure of it. She closed her eyes against his warmth, intoxicating and maybe just a little too real. All of her wanted to hold him back, but it wouldn't help her. It sounded so stupid in her head but it was causing her pain. That justified it, right? That it wasn't stupid or petty.

He pulled away, looking into cold eyes. Maybe, if she hadn't killed him, the transition into a bound pair would be easier. The emotions from so much time with him clawing at her mind but just not there made it all so much worse. She wasn't herself, that much was clear. She was so, so human. So simply not in control. A mess, so lost and confused in herself that, alone with him, she could barely function. She had always been human, and these bonds to people were made to channel that. The jump from without to with piled on her emotions. This time, now, on this ship, the closest thing to safe they would be until it no longer was, might be the ideal time to start getting a grip on things. On each other, properly. Use this time to calm down, talk. But her life had been built of her taking advantage of and reclaiming her sexual prowess, for the most part, it was, apart from her hate, the only thing she really knew. And she decided maybe she should voice that to him. Communicate.

“I don't know if it's because sex and hate are the only two things I really know that I'm like this...” Her voice, for the first time, was quiet. “I don't know how else to deal with how I might be feeling. How else to show you I love you.” She couldn't bring herself to look him in the eye. “Like I said, what are we going to do? Picnic, hold hands, do all those mushy mortal stuff...” They were both s full of pride that it was going to be hard to let it go, if not just for the two of them. She certainly felt she needed another 'outlet' for how she thought she was feeling before she pushed him away. But they were two demons who didn't really know any better. They knew the conventions of mortal love, but did that apply to them? She liked to 'have him' in certain ways, that would never change. Her attraction to him was a universal truth, as true at the tattoo on her neck. But that couldn't be all there was. She brought her hand to lay across his, close to her face.

Away from this, from them, she was still the conquering queen he met her as. She would always be the rage and fury she was born to be. But this wasn't then. Now she could break down. Shed herself to show things she didn't know she had. Emotions, troubles, conflicts...and a heart.

“You will never not have me, Mephisto.” A pause, heavy. “That's what I'm worried about. You'll never not make me crazy. I'll never not want you. I don't want to become too much for you to handle. I don't want you to feel I ask too much, take too much...am too much.”

[Nascent]

He smiled at her, softly, with just the faintest chuckle. "I don't think anyone's ever worried about being fair to 'the devil' before."

Becoming more serious, he continued. "You are so much more than sex and hate, Belle. I saw that about you from the very beginning. You genuinely cared for the women you helped; you had strong reasons for making their fight yours. That wasn't just hatred -- hatred drove you to kill, but it didn't drive you to liberate, or even to meddle in things like you often did. You're smart, clever, and loyal to the things and the people you believe in."

He placed an affectionate finger under her chin and nudged it up slightly, as if to encourage her by suggesting the old phrase. "When we first met, I ignorantly thought that what I saw in your was just sexuality and hatred, a succubus born to ravage mankind in the way she chose, spilling blood and feeding an unquenchable flame of lust. Back then," He fixed her with a look, a 'you know this is true' look. "I was an idiot. But it didn't take much time before I started to see so much more to you than that."

"Sex and hate are your tools, Belle, and in a way they will always be part of you. But that doesn't mean they define you. You are so much more than that." He paused, thinking. "This, being in love, is new for both of us. In a sense it shouldn't even be possible, but yet here we are anyway. I don't have all the answers anymore than you do. That's going to take time, beautiful."

"Fortunately, time seems to be something we were made to have."

Another pause, ending with a coy smirk on his face. "Besides, if you weren't too much for me to handle, trying wouldn't be half so much fun. I enjoy the challenge, my beautiful firebrand." He leaned in, whispering with a sultry voice into her ear. "Half the fun in playing with fire is risking being burned. And I want you to burn me, Belle. Over and over. I can take it."

"Now," He glanced around the bathroom. "I know you've just gotten yourself done up... but the fact is, we're about to meet with the commander for drinks. Neither of us had a shower this morning, or since our last 'time alone'."

He nodded his head towards the faux-glass door to the shower, which looked just roomy enough to accommodate them both. And he knew how she loved showers.

"Shall we? I'll scrub your back for you."

[Painterlee]

The honest truth was that his words didn't really make her feel too much better. She didn't want to burn him, she didn't want to be too much for him. But if he didn't mind, then it would do, comforted by his touches, the finger to her chin that told her that she should keep it there, high, as she always had. With nothing to be ashamed of. The way he called her beautiful, and his love, warmed her cold heart. She only hoped that she could find some ways of showing him all her appreciation for what he was to her. They were two mighty evils, a pair of demons, but in a strange way they brought out the best, the good, in the other. To the other, they were the only person in the universe they could truly stand.

And she couldn't help but smile back at him. Not her usual, playful smile, not a wicked or cunning grin of knowing and scheming. Just a smile back, a smile caused by his. The  fact he was no less put off of her, despite her worry. That he would still share with her the moments she so much craved, but no longer had the guts or spirit to ask for, or demand of him. Nonetheless, she undid the first few buttons of her plain white shirt, revealing her collar, and all the loving decorations he had left on her. Her eyes did eventually take on a more playful look, still a little uncertain in herself, not sure whether indulging her rampant desire was a good idea or not. But there was no way in hell she was going to turn down an offer from him. “I don't know.” Her voice slowly rising back up to the tone of before. “You might have to persuaded me...”

She couldn't help it. Sometimes she just wanted to see how much he wanted her, to what ends he would obey her hinted little commands. Belle pressed her body against his, her hands running down the length of his body. For now, while he danced her little dance she would try and forget her nagging fears. Make the most of him while he was willing to give himself. As far as she was concerned, she were to treat him as if at any point they could be separated for good again. They were two people, on the run from a force larger than both of them, hiding out with the modern day pirates, in the middle on a nebula, waiting desperately for their ships repairs. Belle might be more than happy to play along. But she wanted him to, first, bringing her face just a little closer to his. “...Or make me.”

[Nascent]

"Persuade you to enjoy a shower? There's something I never imagined I'd hear." He teased her back, inching his face closer to hers. His voice dropped, becoming a low and sultry whisper. "But if you want me to make you..."

And then, in the next moment, the devil was nothing but mist in her arms, swirling around Belle to reappear behind her, arms clutching her close and lips leaving slow, strong kisses on her neck. There would be more lovemarks to join her collection soon enough. The kisses traveled up, gradually, as his hands undid more of her buttons, finally coming to rest just below her ear.

"I think I can do that."

He undressed her from the top down, starting with her hairband and pulling off each piece of clothing as it came undone, kisses following to the unconcealed skin of her back, her hips, and her legs. When at last the devil had removed all he could his arms reached across her back and the backs of her legs, picking her up in his arms. Somewhere in the midst of it his own clothes had disappeared and he quickly shimmied off her shoes, trousers, and underwear off. The kisses quickly resumed, this time the passionate kind that had them locking lips; working by memory Mephisto somehow made it over to the shower door, somehow got it open with his foot, and carried Belle inside. Only then did he break the kiss, looking into her eyes with a whispering question: "How hot do you like the water, gorgeous?"

[Painterlee]

Belle gladly let Mephisto work his way with her, how could she not? It wasn't like she was adverse to his advances, not in the slightest. In fact, she loved nothing more. With themselves now somewhat safe behind the fire-power of well established pirates, and the hazy mist of a Nebula, it was only right, it was only fit they take the time to slow down. At least pretend that everything was fine. That nothing was wrong at that they could afford to take time, to spend it on one another. Although, this place was hardly anyone’s idea of an ideal honeymoon, it was the best they had. Memories of his bathroom they hadn't used. Or the pool she had never gotten to try. She hoped that, if they were ever to go back, it would still be there. It was his livelihood, what he had spent the last 5 years achieving. A certain amount of him and his vision had gone into it. Effort and time.

Even his hands, his kisses, couldn't shake that feeling of guilt, of shame. That she had pulled him from all his efforts, and that they might not be able to return to it, as it was, though it melted away, slowly. Remembering that this had, in some senses, been his choice. He had demanded to come with her, despite everything he had made. So surely it was not right for her to feel such guilt, when he was still willing to give her something much more enjoyable.

Some part of her mind was incredibly amused when he picked her up, kissing her. They were mighty beings, and yet he carried her. But she let herself fall away under his kiss, push all her negative thoughts from her mind, and just focus on what mattered. That, somehow, they hadn't been blown apart by Thanatos, that he hadn't been ripped to shreds by space and time, that they hadn't gotten her before she left Cancer. Her arms wrapped around his neck to help hold her to him, a grateful sign, that she wanted to be close to him, that she was counting their lucky stars, and for now they had been kept safe by the universe from overwhelming forces, just a taste of how things would probably be from now. Like, maybe, in some weird way, they had been through enough, and lived long enough, that the Universe pitted them, and, for now, would let them simply be.

Her eyes met his, almost disheartened that he'd had the gall to stop kissing her, but nonetheless, still holding her in his arms. The brief look of disappointment was replaced at his question with a smile. She kissed his neck, working up to below his ear, a hint of playfulness that she knew the greatness of her reply. It was certainly a jump to make the connection, both flattering and teasing. Her voice came like his a whisper, a simply reply and she hoped to assess his attention. “Like my coffee.”

[Nascent]

Her response brought a gratified chuckle from the demonic man. "I see..." And, carefully setting her feet down, Mephisto closed the shower door and turned up the dial. The initial cold spray struck him in the back sending a slight chill up his spine; turning it to his advantage he pulled Belle in close and kissed her anew, the slight shivers making him kiss her all the more intensely as his body sought out her warmth. Soon enough, though, the shower was filling with steam... in more ways than one.




------------------------------




"Running a bit late, aren't ve?" Zhana snapped closed an antique silver pocket watch on a chain as Belle and Mephisto, freshly cleaned up, were ushered into her quarters. It was the kind of place befitting a pirate queen; large and spacious, the room had almost certainly been intended for the private use of the the carrier's captain... which, effectively, it was. A large central desk, behind which she was seated and on the faux-wood surface of which her feet were propped up, was the focal point, with a large bank of screens and monitors -- several notably turned off or inoperable -- commanding the wall behind her. A door on the far right suggested a separate bedroom, making this more of a conference room, and a heavy machine gun auto-turret retracted into the ceiling made it clear that this was no place of vulnerability for her by any stretch, a notion reinforced by the rack of heavy weapons along the right-hand wall. To the left were the woman's trophies: more than just the spoils of piracy and shiny baubles, there were to be seen in prominent display over a dozen Aedolian uniforms, all officers and all with some evidence of having been torn or cut from the bodies of those who last wore them, on prominent display. This was the den of a predator, one that favored a very specific type of prey.

"Vell, I thought you might be." Swinging her legs off the desk, Zhana walked over to a liquor cabinet alongside her gun racks and began to pour herself a glass. "You made that kind of impression, after all. I hope Jovalski didn't pester you too much -- man's a zalupa vith a penchant to run his mouth, but he does decent vork vhen ve need him to." She raised the bottle for Belle and Mephisto to see. "Vodka? It's the good stuff."

[Painterlee]

Belle couldn't help but think that maybe Mephisto was pure evil, indulging in her desires so much. Just the press of their bodies against each other, skin against sin-soaked skin, was enough to have Belle on an instant and powerful green light. And she knew this was just a tease. They had the evening to look forward to, and although Belle would have been happy to forget about Zhana's orders to meet her, truly get carried away, yearning to feel her devils touch, it wasn't something they could do. As he carried her away, the water she was still so enraptured by beginning to heat up, she couldn't help but feel, in some sense of twisted irony, that she was drowning. And by all the gods, she would let him drown her.

~~~~~~~~~~

The pair of them turned up at her office in a much better state than they had the Commissioners back on Cancer, Belle dressed back into the shortly worn outfit. At least the soap and the water washed them clean, and left them not so much the walking statement of their doings, not that anyone on the ship with a brain needed that being told to them. Zhana certainly knew, and Belle was almost flattered. But she couldn't help but notice the impressive set up she had. Certainly it suited her. Though, out of it all, Belle was drawn most to the watch. It had been an age since she'd seen an analogue clock of any kind, digital was quick to move in, replace the gears and cogs. The old style watch still had strong appeal to those who dared to care about the things of the old world. Belle was certainly one of them. Everything was part of her past, her time spent watching everything go forward as it did. Much like that watch, and she couldn't help but wonder if it was an antique, or if she'd had it made for her.

A grin grew across the face of the she-demon when their host offered them a drink. Belle nodded. “Not a woman to turn down a stiff drink.” Or much else. Belle knew she was racking up quite the list of items borrowed, but if they were willing to fix up her ship, give them a room, food, access to the facilities, it was unlikely a cigarette and a drink would topple the scales of what she apparently owed Mephisto for saving her adopted daughter, whom Belle had yet to meet. Silently, she mused over just how many little connections he had. And if any of them wanted to kill her. “He wasn't too much of a problem. I think I gave him a little...fright, but that was about it. Scurried off fast enough.” She couldn't help but chuckle to herself. “Did mention something of a little Black Marketing. Didn't want to take him up on it, just in case. He had that tricksters look about him. Not that I don't not trust you or your crew, just there seems to be a sense of independence, and people like to get up to all kinds of things when they think no one is looking.”

Her gaze at the other woman became one of a sharp knowing, a respect. “But I don't doubt you have quite the keen eye.”

[Nascent]

Zhana gave a bit of a chuckle. "Da, I know about his little side business. Is perfectly fine -- one incentive I give my crew is that, vith a few restrictions and rules, they can claim loot and salvage for themselves from vhat ve catch. Makes them vork in unison vhen ve hit a ship, then competitively vhen ve board. Everyone pushes to be that much better, that much faster, to secure and claim areas quickly and efficiently. Ve form teams and small groups -- strike squads that agree to vork together for better take. Some specialize -- engines, bridge, hostages, cargo." She quirked an inquisitive eye to Mephisto, holding up an empty glass and having just poured Belle's; he gave the pirate queen an appreciative nod and she began pouring his as she continued. "I make special arrangements vith teams that vould get little or no share, reward them based on performance from my own cut. It keeps everyone happy, focused, fightink vell."

"Jovalski has connections, black market -- typically others sell vhat they cannot use to him, and he to a select few 'entrepreneurs'. Is how ve get vhat ve need, thing that piracy alone does not provide." She set Belle and Mephisto's drinks down in front of them on the desk, then went back for her own. "He likes business, too much for my taste, but is necessary evil, da?"

The pirate queen raised her glass in a toast. "Za grabezh!" And then quickly downed the entire contents of her glass in a single go, seeming quite content with the drink when she was done.

"So," Placing her glass down, she leaned against her desk. "You two are interesting pair. Descartes -- or Giles, or Tashren, vhichever name you prefer -- you I know of. And of course I know of Black Scarab by reputation. But you," She gave Belle and amused look. "Who pilot so great a hunter and have this man in tow, you are interestink to me. I have not asked your name or business yet, as I vas not sure you vished them disclosed amongst many ears." She gestured, somewhat dismissively, with her hand. "I trust my pirates to do three things: fight vhen told, steal vhen told, and obey orders that I can enforce. Vith them, everything is reward and punishment. Keeps it businesslike. But secrets -- net, those I do not trust many with. And identity and purpose of Black Scarab's gifted hand has long been secret vell kept, da. Many names, many faces, or so I am to understand."

"You assume I'm not the captain." Mephisto jested, casting a look at Belle that said plainly 'she's certainly sharp'.

"Da." Zhana took on a grin. "If you vere captain, Nadezhda vould have told me." She leaned forward a bit, eyes on Belle. "Besides, I know ships, and those that vork vith them. Vhen you said 'my ship', it vas vith a familiarity that few can pretend -- vhen you valked out it vas in your stride, and vhen you looked at the Scarab there vas no mistaking the rightful pride of it in your gaze. The Scarab is yours," Zhana leaned back. "And though ve are pirates, you may rest upon my vord: ve shall not try to part you from her. I know the pride, and the pain, of being captain of a vounded ship."

"But, is neither here or there." The pirate queen plucked up her glass, swirling the tiny amount that lingered in the bottom of it and eyed it, fiercely, as though considering an opponents he could as yet only imagine. "Vhat is here, and there, is that someone saw fit to take a swing at a ship with the Black Scarab's formidable reputation. I vould not be so bold, and I have a small fleet of fighter-bombers here. For size, Scarab is supposed to be quite strong, befitting of name."

She cast her gaze Belle's way. "So, tell me of these volves that hunt you."