<span style="font-family: 'Arial'"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#cc99ff">The way he spoke to her was supposed to make her tremble, fearful. But for fuck's sake – he sounded so <i>arrogant </i>saying it that her nose wrinkled on her face and she fought the smirk that twitched her lips, then eventually stretched across her face. The snort followed, then her hand slapped across her own mouth to stifle the abrupt burst of snickering. Like twin amethysts, her eyes sparked at him with the amusement that she was only half heartedly attempting to contain.<br/>
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“I'm sorry, but you can tell you've been trapped inside your metaphysical prison for too long. Your people skills have gone <i>way </i>out the window--” Now she turned back around to face him, arms flapping once on either side of her as she turned full circle to observe their unlikely fate. “But there aren't any windows in here, so I'm assuming you were put in here because you are an <i>asshole. </i>And you sound ridiculous – I am death and chaos and <i>grrr rawwwrr </i>I'll rip you in two-- It must have also been a long time since you've gotten laid with an attitude like that.”<br/>
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It wasn't real. She was still convinced of that much, otherwise her tongue might not have wagged so freely in the face of the deity. Some of it was real, she knew; this was a metaphysical prison of the highest grade. She could feel that much for herself. But her physical self? Was not present in this room. She tried to ignore the panic that twisted her stomach into knots as her imagination began to wander down the road of just when her physical self was going to snap back into the real world and take her astral self back with it. As much as she made jokes, she didn't want to keep this man's company for any longer than she needed to.<br/>
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“Sorry, fella. I'm just a girl. College student in NYC. I just happened to take a night time stroll and must have gone <i>way </i>the hell off the beaten path to find this sorry abode of a bachelor pad. So how's this? You can have one corner of your prison and I'll occupy this spot by the fire for a while. If everything goes my way, I'll be out of your hair so you can mope in peace again before too long...”<br/>
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Her attention strayed from him to follow the shadows that played against the walls of the room. And while he made a show of his shadow puppets, the images did stir something deep in the pit of her being. She shuddered, watching his demise, as if she could feel it. Her arms came up, her hands sliding over her limbs as a chill pebbled her with goose bumps. <i>It's not real, </i>she reminded herself. And yet the odd violet stare still sparked with its witchfyre flame, giving her a glimpse of what he really was. This time the grin twisted into a scowl and she dragged her bottom lip between her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut, forcing the third eye that she was born with back down before she began to see the same haunted things he was. <br/>
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“I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised that you're batshit.” Only now she was inclined to believe that he was some sort of demi-god, at the very least. <i>Come on, wake the hell up</i>, she chanted at herself inwardly, her lids creaking back open to stare at him from beneath a fringe of lashes once more. “Does the God of Ultimate Destruction and Badassery at least have board games lying around for us to play?”</span></span>