Housemate From Hell (Mari/Logan/Cruise)

[Samael Sinclaire]

Why was it not working!? Samael thought to himself angrily, going through the spell for the fourth time. The spell was done by the very letter, and yet every time he attempted it, and the ritual to find someone, it never revealed his father's location. The ritual was done ever-so precisely and the spell itself was so ancient, that it predated any petty trinket that his father tried to use against Samael. It was also getting pretty difficult to find any dimwitted Satanists in this town that was willing to blindly sacrifice themselves for the ritual. Despite the fact that these Satanists were nothing more than a bunch of stupid twenty year olds that still lived in their parent's basements, writing crappy metal lyrics with silly subliminal messages that they thought were reaching out to their Dark Lord, but in Samael's ears, they were just saying, “Hello, I'm an idiot in full bloom of retardation. Please off me!”

Samael's hands were encrusted in human blood, as he tried in vain for the ritual to work, but getting nowhere. In anger, he kicked the cauldron into the blackess of the crypt, watching as it doused the terrified human that he had captured in boiling hot water. In full irritation, he telekinetically slammed their head against the stone wall, killing them. They had been screaming for most of the night, and Samael had finally managed to conjure a decent sound proof spell to keep her screams from being heard any further than the crypt, itself. He sighed to himself as he wondered if Reginald would ever be found, but inside, Samael was willing to give this chase for his father to eternity and beyond if it meant it. He held a ball of fire in his hand, and looked around the crypt. Tossing the fireball at the body of the dead body, he figured that now was the time to find a new location, if anywhere, and as he went to leave the crypt to burn down, he suddenly found himself walking from the crypt, and suddenly, he was in what appeared to be the inside of a master bedroom. The door to the crypt was gone, and he found his hands were no longer drenched in dried, human blood.

He suddenly heard a noise nearby, and curiously began to follow it, and ultimately explore more of his surroundings, as it may answer him as to why he was...wherever he was. And perhaps the person had a bad excuse to bring him there, and he could murder them for wasting his time. Samael went around another corner, and began to realize that he was inside some kind of manor, given it's old paintings, and never-ending hallways. Another fireball formed in his hands as he walked, in case the person that brought him here tried to attack him. Even in Hell, Samael learned to mind his surroundings, as not everything seemed to be what it was. The most peaceful setting the mind had to offer could have been one of Hell's many traps for a soul.

Finally, he made his way to a dining hall, where the noises stopped, and suddenly, there was silence. He stood for the longest time in silence as his eyes began to glow their demonic redness in anger, but suddenly, he turned and saw someone coming from a door, and better for it to be than....

“Mari...” He growled demonically, as the flames grew brighter, “Ready to tell me where Reginald is? Or am I going to have to finally say screw it and burn you to nothing more than a cinder?”

[Marina Anne Sinclaire]

The manor had been clamoring for her to come to it for quite some time. Slowly, every day she ventured further in and felt its comforting presence as it guided her almost magically to the dining room where Samael now stood. Pausing but a moment she entered the room where he stood and tried her best not to cower when he glared at her. Her brown dress was somber and the cape coat she wore seemed superfluous around him so she removed it and draped it over a chair lightly. Keeping herself somewhat occupied.

"Samael, that could take a moment or three. Please sit if it pleases you." she said gently as she folded her hands in front of herself, "Last week...." she got a painful look on her face that had horror, sorrow and agony etched throughout. "Well last week father...well he became completely unhinged. He kidnapped me and brought me to one of his homes he keeps to interrogate people. He was...not pleased.' Her face went white and she tried to push past her fear, "He raped and tortured me. I managed to get away and a friend found me and took me to the hospital. I'm afraid I was in surgery for about 12 hours and being healed for some time after that but..while the doctors were trying to save my life. My stepmother, the man that father wanted me to marry and a friend tracked down father and killed him. I don't know all the details. When he died I almost died with him because he latched onto my life force. To be honest I'm not sure how I survived. I woke up a few days later after they had his funeral."

She shook the whole time she said these words, "His will states that you and I are to share this house. That the parts he built on for me are mine to live in as I please and the parts that are original are yours. I made certain to not intrude on your space and the artifacts that father collected were to be handled by a Mr. Corvin Blake in the event you did not wish them. His will states that since I have a living brother that my care and well being fall to you." she passed a copy of the will that she had on hand for such a meeting, "Father said that if something should ever happen to him and you need the will validated that Mr. Blake was an honest man who would serve you well."

Exhaling she cringed slightly trying to relax for the blow she was sure would come. Samael had proven he was violent and it was nothing surprising she just prayed he didn't kill her.

[Samael Sinclaire]

(OOC: Just wanted to point out that the last part of the post is the house doing it to Samael)

Naturally, he stood in place, locking eyes with his younger sister and gazing upon her, as he allowed her to speak her peace, while dying the flames down slightly. If anyone posed a small threat, it was her. Her threat came from one power that she held over him, but it was one that he had been preparing against for a while. But as she spoke of what happened to her at Reginald's hands, a sort of sympathy for her could have been felt, and while he thought about insisting that he would avenge her if she gave Reginald's location over to him, but that was when she said the last thing that he wanted to hear. That Reginald was dead. Suddenly, rage began to fill his mind as he heard those accursed words.

Telekinetically, Samael tossed the dining hall table across the room, and pushed Mari, and the chair that she was in, back against the wall as he shifted into his demonic form once more infront of her. “YOU ARE LYING TO ME!” He roared hotly in his demonic voice, “I AM GOING TO TEN FOLD EVERY TORMENT THAT REGINALD INFLICTED UPON YOU!!” He raised his taloned hand upwards, ready to slice her into ribbons before he realized that before he attacked, she mentioned Corvin's name, and suddenly, he recalled Corvin mentioning having dealings with his father before, and if his name were to ever come out of Reginald's mouth, or Mari's that they were probably telling the truth. Samael's telekinetic hold over Mari was loosened, and the demonic monstrosity turned, and to its confusion, noticed the table had magically been placed back to where it originally was. The monster raised both hands, high above its head and sent them crashing down on the solid oak table, crushing it into splinters.


“The bastard mocks me in death!? I WILL BURN THIS ENTIRE PLACE TO THE GROUND!!” he roared, as his body caught ablaze, but suddenly, the flames stopped and he shifted back into his human form. Anger and confusion crossed Samael as he felt the power of the house take hold, and sit him down.

“Mari?” He asked much more calmly, but with some aggression in his voice, “What kind of magic is this now?”

[Marina Anne Sinclaire]

When he slammed her chair into the wall she screamed and ducked her head, "Stop! Please!!!" she pleaded as she closed her eyes and cringed at the sound of furniture smashing. Shuddering in her chair the terrified woman sat there shaking for a moment. Her breath coming out in shaken sobs as she covered her face with her hands and rocked quietly.

His threat got her looking up, "No you can't! The house will hurt you if you try its not going to let you do that..." she said as she dabbed at her face and he was sat down like a recalcitrant child. Slowly composing herself she looked at him, "Its a combination of magics. My father had a spell cast on the house to keep it from being damaged by myself or my brothers. It wasn't so much me he was concerned about as the fact that with 12 other demon children he wanted to have a home to come home to. So the house repaired itself. It isn't impenetrable, but it will stop someone from trying to destroy it." she exhaled brokenly and shuddered from fear still. After dealing what she had this last week she was a bit easily overwhelmed.

"The second thing that happened is that the house is...protective of me. I think something happened but I'm not sure what. I just know that while I can be hurt severely here I've never been so hurt that I died. Its like the house or something in it just looks out for me. Father thought it was a form of cosmic karma because my brothers tried to kill me so much. I just figured the house liked me and wanted company." she grabbed a handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes, "I think it might be part of the contract. The will says that if you harm me you forfeit any and all rights to the house and it reverts back to me. My father may have lost his mind but he did realize that most of my brothers hated me."

She rubbed her temples, "I think he thought my job in the house...as twisted and sick as it sounds was as a sort of courtesan. He expected me to be the one to keep the family...entertained. Gross and horrible as that sounds he really couldn't see any other use for a non succubus girl child. I mean demons aren't exactly known for self control. They are more of a "Want. Take. Have." kind of people." she pointed out softly, "I realize you hate me but I am just as much a victim as you are in this so the best we can do is agree to a cease fire on the grounds. Not that I have the ability to hurt you, but you get the idea." She sat up and waited to hear what he had to say. The reality was she was terrified and wanted nothing more than to run back to her rooms and lock her part of the house off from him and his psychotic rages.

[Samael Sinclaire]

For the first time in a while, Samael got a smile out of watching his little sister beg for him to stop. Looking into her eyes, he felt the pleasure and the rage he felt combine into something deeper and darker than anything he had yet to feel before in the blackest pit of his heart. He could enjoy making her relive her most horrific experience, over and over again, allow her to body to heal and then force her to relive the nightmare all over again. Far more intense, and so much more real than what Reginald could have ever dreamed of. Samael did not boast...much, but he had a feeling that his father did not have even a fraction of the imagination that his son did. Being raised in the Pits of the Fifth Sphere of Hell taught you to channel your rage, and your frustrations. It made you a more vicious and horrifying demon than any other Sphere. And for a person like Samael, it was Home. “Stop! Please! Why are you doing this!?” Samael said mockingly, “You're no different than the other, cowering bitches that I have mangled before and after I got here, but I think you're going to be my most exquisite masterpiece. I've never further broken someone who has already been broken before. At least, not on Earth anyways. And I think by the end of it, you're going to learn new things about yourself that you never thought possible.”

But once she warned him about the house, and the conditions of which he was to uphold, now that he inherited this part of the house, he surprisingly did not become further enraged. Somehow, it was as if his anger fuse was suddenly blown, and the only negative feeling that he could muster, was a minor case of irritation. Suddenly, he rolled his eyes and looked up at the ceiling. “Good one, God.” He said in a mockingly monotone voice, knowing that while his father may have put the spells up, it would only be possible by Fate, and ultimately through God's will, that it would have been possible for him to be unable to harm Mari.

“Yeah, but I don't hate you Mari,” Samael said in full honesty, “I just want to lovingly and violently put your life through more Hell than you could ever, possibly imagine. But I guess since you have a Flaming Chicken,” referring to Michael, “Dr. Quinn, Medicine woman's uber sensitive brother, referring to Logan, “and a playboy best friend, who needs subtitles to understand him half the time, referring to Cruise, “and now a freaking house with a soft spot for you to guard you, I suppose that I will have no other choice but to play nice...for now.” Suddenly, the hold that he felt on the house suddenly faded and Samael slowly rose up, looking up and down at the house, as he wondered if the house felt pain at all, and how amusing it would be if he just sat the place on fire and watched it rebuild itself.

When she pointed out what a demon's personality was, he raised an eyebrow and looked at her oddly. “I resemble that remark...” he said dryly, daring her to laugh. “And if Reginald was to put you in my care, then he was far more twisted than I thought.” Irritatedly, he sighed and thought to himself, “If this part of my house is truly mine to control, then see to it that your little friends, and that Seraph, stays well away from my domain. You never said that I cannot harm them, and if they provoke me, I will peel the meat from their bones.”

[Marina Anne Sinclaire]

There comes a point when threats of torture actually loose their meaning and now that she wasn't at risk of dying from a broken back she looked at Samael, "Really? Is that the best you can come up with? You don't know this house if you think its going to let you do any of that. It will turn you inside out into a quivering ball of flesh and then flash freeze you before tossing you out so you shatter to a million pieces. You may wish to do those things Samael and I pray for your sake you never try." she rose up, probably the first time in a while and approached him, her hands behind her back as she smiled up at him, "Soul healing doesn't count as harm. So yeah you can spindle and mutilate me but you'll just trigger my gift if you do so like you did the last time. I mean its an instinctive reaction to torture. The only reason it didn't hit you now is I knew the house would protect me." she deliberately turned her back on him to regard a painting on the wall.

"I rather think it is a good joke myself." she said solemnly. Looking at him out of the corner of her eye. Before going back to her painting gazing.


"Take a number, Samael. You're the last one to the party. I suppose I should have let the house toss your ass out on the street and whip you like a dog but that seems so unsportsmanlike with you being such an unmitigated prick and all. You didn't have anything when you came here and you only got what Daddy handed you. If I were you I'd stop trying to terrify me. You already do. Goal accomplished now knock off the over dramatic hype of how you're going to hurt me before the house decides to just toss you out out of spite."

"Trust me. This part of the house doesn't have wifi no one with any sense would bother with it. At least not anyone that's been born in the last 20 years." she snorted as she grabbed her coat and tried to put it on. Her hands shook it was true but the sobbing and freaking out were done for now. She'd hit that Sinclaire core of steel and Sam's threats literally wouldn't go any deeper. It was just that he was triggering her old behavior of stand up to a demon or they kill you. The threats were too grand and too old fashioned in their wording and in so doing lost their effectiveness to terrify quite so much.

[Samael Sinclaire]

Samael was silent for a moment, as she allowed her to say her witty little comebacks. He stone faced her the entire way, and once she was done, he looked her dead in the eyes and smiled. But unlike any devious, wicked, psychotic, or insidious grin that he had given her before, this one was...normal. It was a warm, friendly, absolutely normal smile, and for anyone that knew Samael, it was the most horrifying thing in all of the world, despite how casual and not-out-of-the-ordinary it truly and genuinely was. “Well, little sister,” he said calmly, and almost cheerfully, “you're absolutely right about that. But let me give you a little bit of a fact about me and how I am taking in what you have just told me.” He held out his hand and telekinetically pulled her in her chair closer towards him, and this time, it was not speedy, but gentle. Very gently, as if he was trying to make sure that she did not fall out. When she was finally close enough, that she was face-to-face to him, he pulled her in and gave her a light kiss on the cheek.


“Perhaps this house could do all of what you said,” he continued, “in fact, after what I just experienced, I would bet that it would be able to do just that! But the thing about me is, while this house would probably see to it that it makes me relive my entire life when I grew up in Hell, what both you and it,” his eyes shifted all around the house to make sure it felt included before looking back to Mari, “and you have failed to realize, is the fact that I am a lot faster than I look. I'm talking really fast. I would honestly have no problem, what-so-ever grabbing you by the throat, and ripping your skin right off of your body like it was a coat, or telekinetically pluck the teeth from your mouth an have them rip their way all throughout your body like those bouncing bullets you see in cartoons, before this house had so much as a chance to kill me. I don't doubt that it would either, and perhaps your little ability to jump start my soul would kick in, but ultimately what I am getting at is, while I know that there is a steep and direly grave consequence to harming you...”

He slowly tilted his head forward, and ever-so-softly, he whispered into her ear with such a delicate and tender voice, “It would be totally worth it to feel so good for that split microsecond between your death and my death.” Samael stood up and politely, he helped his sister up as well, “But I am not going to, because right now, I'm in the mood to see what Daddy-O stocked in the fridge before he died. I've worked up quite an appetite.” And in a disturbingly final gesture, he hugged his sister tightly.

“I think it is so great that we're going to get to spend so much quality time together now! So many activities we get to do together, now that the parents are out of the house.” Samael started walking around his part of the mansion, leaving Mari to ponder what he had just said until he came back.

[Marina Anne Sinclaire]

Mari recoiled at the contact, her recent experiences making even pleasant tactile touch barely tolerated. Michael got a pass because of what he was but Sam got her trying to squirm away instinctively. She shifted and tried to get some distance between them. The closeness triggering a bit of claustrophobia for her.

"The difference between you and I is you want to hurt me. I just want to get away from you." she said softly as she bit her lip and felt her disability kick in with her mind overwrought the way it was. Her right hand twitched and she grimaced in agony as her body started to spasm and tense up.She did her best to slowly exhale as he spoke to try and relax herself as she felt her back muscles flex and twitch in pain. She bowed her head and closed her eyes as she tried to focus on his words.

She stumbled as her legs buckled under her. Leaning against him not because she wanted to but because she was so scared she could not get her body to work properly at first. She grit her teeth in pain and exhaled softly. She was so terrified even her speech was affected by her disability. It rarely happened but when it did she had to stop and breathe. Holding up a hand in acknowledgement of his words she sighed.

"I..." the word was said haltingly as she tried to fight past the brain lock, "Unders-st-tand." it wasn't said with a fear filled tone so much as the tone that those with a speech impairment might have. As soon as she was free of him she fled in shame. Her face red and tears falling. She fled for the door and got her hand on the door knob.

No one knew the years of speech therapy she'd undergone. Not because she lisped or even stammered but because words just would not come out at times. Doctors said it was a bit of a brain glitch that happened when there was too much going on in her mind but she'd worked on it tirelessly. Losing her words terrified her and Sam had done that. Her steps echoed through the house as she fled for her rooms to get away from him.

[Corvin Blake]

Corvin appeared from a shadowy area underneath a staircase in the Manor. He had expected Samael's arrival, and now that his new partner had himself a decent headquarters, rather than a dank, little crypt, they could truly begin their quest to bring Samael to full power, and bring this world to its knees. Around noon, Corvin was having lunch with a promising client, who wanted to purchase a statue of the Egyptian God, Osiris, which was said to grant immortality if prayed to daily. Corvin wished to sell it to him for fifty thousand USD, but the man was a fool to attempt to haggle with Corvin. As he tried to negotiate, Corvin politely stood up and wished the man a good day. Not that he was too terribly worried that he lost a customer. If the man desired immortality, then he would pay the price. Especially since he did not have much longer to live due to a cancerous brain tumor.

But his main interest, was in Samael, and him learning of the conditions of the house. Corvin realized that Reginald would probably expect Samael to kill Mari, so the house could claim the demon for all of eternity, but when he began to walk towards the old part of the Manor. When a young woman began to run out towards him, he stopped in his tracks and looked at her approaching carefully. Not looking where she was going, she bumped into Corvin. Immediately, he realized that it was none other than Marina Sinclaire, and she had quite possibly had just had a run in with Samael. If she was living, he must have took the news of Reginald's death pretty well, or he just spent a good amount of time picking at her brain. Psychotic half demon....

“Easy there young miss,” he replied in his thick, Scottish accent, “you okay?” He pulled a silk handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her to wipe away the tears, “What happened in there? Are you able to speak? Listen, just breathe and take your time okay? I'm not going to hurt you, my name is Mr. Corvin Blake and I am a friend of your father's. I was to make sure that both yourself and your brother had everything in order. If you'll just take those deep breaths and settle yourself, the better you'll be.” He smiled softly and placed his brief case down on the ground as he looked at her.

[Marina Anne Sinclaire]

(OOC I used Google Translate)

Mari jerked up suddenly as she sensed an unfamiliar presence in the house, bumping into him and taking a few steps back as she tried to catch herself. Gasping at him she bit her lip and eyed him warily, a moment. Her father had warned her never to talk to strangers and he'd never introduced her to his friend Mr. Blake. He seemed almost reluctant to speak of him and as she stepped back she saw he was a warlock, She exhaled a moment, shuddering to collect herself before she tentatively took the handkerchief, afraid there was something on it but not wanting him to take offense. "Tá sé an pléisiúr bualadh leat, an tUasal Blake. Is é mo ainm Marina. Maith dom toisc nár aithin tú níos luaithe. Ní raibh mé ag súil leat. Tá súil agam nach bhfuil tú ag fanacht fada?" she said softly in gaelic. Her father had raised her to speak it almost automatically the moment she heard the accent out of respect for their heritage. Given that she was so distraught it made sense that it came to her first before English.

She stepped back and curtsied dabbing her eyes lightly before passing the handkerchief back to him. "Le do thoil, teacht isteach agus suíochán a bheith acu. Níl mé cinnte go bhfuil mo dheartháir i giúmar hospitible i láthair na huaire agus tá sé seo ar a chuid den bhaile." she said as she glanced about warily as she feared what Samael might say to her next. "He was going to get lunch." she finally said in English as her words came back to her. He is angry with me. I am afraid I cannot stay but please, feel free to go further into his part of the home. I have every confidence that you shall not offend him unlike myself." she admitted as she stood back and curtsied to him, a look of complete disquiet on her face as she tried to decide what to do next.

She wanted to leave. The situation frightened her greatly and she just wanted to be able to curl up in her own rooms and shut the world out. She smoothed her brown dress and was grateful that she wasn't wearing makeup because she wouldn't look horrible.

[Corvin Blake]

Corvin tilted his head to the side for a moment and smiled. She had the native tongue, just like her own father. “Níl gá le leithscéal a ghabháil daor, Ba chóir dom a bheith ar an duine leithscéal a ghabháil léiríonn suas gan choinne agus díreach ag teacht chomh tobann,” he said softly to her in the most gentlemen of ways, “Aon ghá le Tá mé cinnte go mbeidh sé i giúmar níos fearr nuair a thiocfaidh mé I.”

As she spoke of Samael getting lunch, he smiled again and said, “He was probably just grouchy. I'm sure he'll be in a better mood after a good meal, and if he steps out of line, then I have a trick or two that will put him in his place.” Softly, Corvin placed a hand on her shoulder and a look of concern crossed his face as he sighed softly in patience, “Come on, I will go with you, and you won't be alone. Two heads are better than one.” Corvin picked up his brief case and opened it up and handed Mari a cross-shaped crystal vial, filled with a liquid. “The cross is filled with a two thousand year old Holy Water that was blessed from the River Jordan, and some people think it was blessed by the Carpenter of Carpenters, himself. Should burn a nice, big hole through your brother if he tries to bite.” Closing his brief case back up, he held out his hand and quietly waited for Mari.

[Marina Anne Sinclaire]

"You have nothing to apologize for." she said simply as she looked over at him. Her father said that Corvin was ancient and that she should tread carefully. She folded her hands in front of herself instinctively and bowed her head respectfully, "It is how you said, my brother is not at his best."

"Oh no, I couldn't take such a thing. Its better for me to just go. I don't wish to create more problems." she was not feeling comfortable enough to take gifts or even be in the same room as Samael any more. "Forgive me, Mr. Blake. I'm feeling overly tired and should probably retire for a bit before my temper gets the better of me." she was being honest. She resented her brother walzing around like he owned the place and threatening her. She wanted nothing to do with him for at least a day or so.

[Corvin Blake]

“Nope, I refuse to take it back,” he said humbly, holding his hand outwards, “consider it a gift, and my condolences towards your father's passing. He was a dear friend, and a close client of mine, and I am sure that he would feel that you were better off with it.” He smiled politely at her, and closed her hand tightly around the trinket that he had given her.

Corvin looked into her eyes again with concern as she absolutely refused to be in the same room as her own brother. “He must have said something terrible, in order for you to be so afraid of him, but I am afraid that I must insist that you come along, despite it all,” he said softly, trying not to sound threatening in the least bit, and more reluctant to insist, “I have to have both of you sign a sort of form of release, so that the state will know that both of you understand the terms and conditions of the mansion, albeit, none of the mystical parts about it, but those will be included in the agreement, but only visible to certain eyes. It's the only way that Reginald's last will and testament can be bound permanently to both of you.” Corvin then turned and lead the way to where she had said that Samael was last located in the manor.

In truth, Corvin was a little uneasy around Samael, himself. The man was an absolute wild card, and only answered to himself. Samael had no rules, no codes that he followed. He was purely and utterly chaotic, and it was a sort of relief that Corvin knew of Samael just enough to know that he was willing to be assisted, if it benefited him, and in his case with Corvin helping him, then it did. As they walked into the dining room, and saw nobody there, he heard Samael walking around somewhere, and turned to face Mari. “Wait here, I will go and fetch him.”

Corvin walked across the room, and entered the kitchen area, where Samael was located. As Corvin opened the door and closed it behind him, he turned just soon enough to duck out of reflex, as a large kitchen knife was thrown in his direction. If he had not ducked, it still would not have hit him, as it had landed just a few inches above where his head should have been. Corvin grunted a little irritably and looked at Samael, and stepped forward, snapping his fingers to sound proof the room from any, possible prying ears. “Don't you think you could use a little, bloody subtlety?” He asked irritably to Samael, who was picking up another kitchen knife to throw back at the door, as the other knife removed itself from the door, and back to the knife holder, as the door fixed itself.

“This is an opportunity, Samael,” Corvin remarked, “and getting pissy with your sister about your father's death, and tormenting her is not going to fix things.”

[Samael Sinclaire]

Samael went into the kitchen and closes the door behind him as Mari ran the other way, a smile crossed his face as he felt a sort of sick pleasure in watching her break so easily. Some would call it abuse of the most extreme degree, but Samael thought of it as simple sibling rivalry. But there was something in the back of his head now, that was making him think. He knew that her little soul enhancing power had to have activated in order for him to be thinking so much, and it angered him every time it came to the surface. Like an annoying cold that you thought was gone, but it always creeps back in due time. Sadly enough, this was not like some people, who were merely possessed by demons. Samael and his soul were both one, individual being, but the body, which was the demon, wanted to be free of it, and be able to use the full extent of its power, and that was what Samael, himself wanted. He hated the emotions that came with this curse, the compassion, the guilt, the fear, all of it. It was a weakness that infected him, and promised to tear away at him, unless he got rid of it.

The more he focused on the rage, however, the less it managed to creep into his head. But how could he be free of it now? Be free of his human blood, and take revenge on Lilith? Reginald was dead, and the ritual was now null and void, since he could not return to Hell to kill his mother. Even if he committed suicide, it would only send his human soul to Hell, and not Samael in his entirety, and with all of the bodies he wracked up on Earth, he would definitely fry. He was in all sense of the term, fucked. Somehow, he had a feeling that Lilith also knew this as well. The sheer sense of the thought that she had won, and was now the Lady of the Fifth Sphere infuriated him further.

You have literally broken your sister further than your father could, and all you can think about is your own, selfish ambitions? a voice inside of his head told him, which was quite possibly his subconscious. “SHUT UP!” He shouted, taking a kitchen knife out of the holder and tossing it at the door, watching it dig into the wood. But just as suddenly as it went in, it came back out again. Samael picked up a bigger knife, and as he went to prepare to toss it as well, Corvin came into the room, and ducked as the knife hit the door.

Samael chuckled at Corvin's remark and said, “I am a Vengeance Demon, Corvin. Subtlety is not one of our strong points. Perhaps it is of demons of the Second Sphere of Hell, but demons of the Fifth Sphere are known for their violence and their desire to carve the skin off the skulls of those that do not come through to their promises.” Samael walked from behind the counter, and slowly began to approach Corvin in a sort of menacing, predatory manner. As Corvin began to speak again, Samael stopped in front of him and looked him dead in the eyes. “Normally, this is where I would be asking what opportunity would this serve, but count yourself lucky, that my sister has a thing about raising my soul to the surface when she can. We will come back to this discussion at a later time. I am to guess that you're here about this manor, and probably have papers to sign?”

It was something that Samael picked up on about Corvin. He was a warlock, but he was also in the business of always signing contracts with people, signing papers, doing deals and business with others. He was a sort of cut throat that Samael never understood. However, this place was probably ever-so slightly better than the crypt.

As Samael walked past Corvin and felt the warlock follow, he returned to the dining room, and noticed Mari had returned. He turned and looked at Corvin, who was taking out the paperwork and thought. Silver tongued devil...

[Marina Anne Sinclaire]

Mari followed along behind Corvin because she had no choice but to do otherwise. She didn't know him well at all and to be honest her father compaired him to a car salesman to the damned. If he could get away with screwing you over and benifiting from it he would. But she really didn't expect much else from him. He was a warlock and it was just part of his nature just as it was Sam's nature to break people. She was just heartily sick of all of this and couldn't wait to head to her quarters for some much needed exercise. It helped calm her down and had benifits besides. And so, waiting for the two to arrive she pushed her glasses up on her nose.

When they finally did move into the dining room she regarded both of them silently. "I really don't know why I have to even be here. You could just as easily come to the office and gone over the terms, Mr. Blake. Antagonizing my brother is the last thing any of us wants." she said quietly as she regarded the ancient deal maker speculatively. "After all, you have been dealing with Samael long enough to know his habits and brush them aside which leads me to believe this contract isn't in my best interest." she rose and quietly pushed her chair in. "Rule number one. Never enter into a contract with a demon, even if they aren't the one offering it because it never ends well."

She made no motion to leave, she was just stating her opinion. She did not want to be here but there was nothing in her words that was rude so much as factual, "I'd bring in another representative for my interest but he'd probably cause more problems than he'd solve." she added.