Malvvosia admired the massive web she had spun, its shimmering glory giving her a feeling of pride. While it was not the prettiest she had ever spun, it was by all accounts, the largest she had ever made. Using the burnt remains of the forest she spun a web that stretched from one end of the forest to the other, going several meters deep to ensure maximum trapability. It had taken several hours, but the result was a new wall, made up of countless threads, yet as strong as steel and coated in a sticky substance that burned like acid—almost—anything that touched it. 

With the work complete, Malvvosia returned to her more prefered form, slender limbs, massive raggedy wings, and an actual mouth. The transformation took several minutes, much longer than it took to revert to her true form, as it was not easy to fit so much demon into so slender a body. The transformation was completed, however, and with a careless push of her clawed feet, Mal found herself soaring through the air and back into the city proper, the rubble beneath her crushed by her take-off. Using her wings like a parachute, she landed gently on a rooftop near the building where the missions were distributed. 

She spent a short while contemplating whether to return for more work, or if she should just piss off for a short time, and listen to some music while people watching. She had only just begun to contemplate getting her claws on some udon, during her people watching session, when she noticed a familiar figure sitting outside the building she was currently perched upon. It was difficult to tell exactly what she was doing from so far away—Mal guessed drawing—but it was clear who the fair half-demon was, and, more importantly, she was alone. Seeing a chance at having another stimulating conversation—and hopefully less annoying with the she-bitch M.I.A—Mal decided to pay the little demon-fay a fisit. 

With a considerably more controlled display of her strength this time, Malvvosia pushed off from the building she stood upon and glided down towards her target. Once again using her wings to slow her descent, Mal gently floated to the ground, touching down softly on the tips of her extended claw-toes. A cascade of raggedy black feathers rained down all around, twirling wistfully as they slowly fell to the ground. 

“Good evening, Demon-Fay. Your mission was successful was it?” 


[hr]

Cassandra had chosen to sketch the skyline during the downtime between the missions, having chosen a well lit spot with an excellent view, were she to be the judge. She had, however, taken a bit of time to change clothes, having borrowed her mother’s wardrobe. The result was just a new shirt, one open in the back to make way for her newly acquired wings, should she desire to utilize them again. 

However, her peaceful time of just sketching with coal, was interrupted by the descent of a somewhat familiar figure. Malvvosia, the raven-clad demoness with an ego to match her mother’s. 

She looked up at the greeting, closing her sketchbook and stuffing it into her bag with deft movements. 

“[i]Bonsoir,[/i] Malvvosia,” she said, placing her now empty hands in her lap. “Can I help you?” 

The demoness gave her wings a mighty flap, dislodging more ratty feathers and kicking up those on the ground. “Help?” She questioned, though did not wait for a response. “I can’t say I require assistance in any way, no.” It was difficult to tell where any of the demoness’ four eyes were looking as they were nothing but solid red, however the way her head was subtly turned towards her backpack, gave Cassandra a good idea of what exactly was occupying her attention. 

“Then it is not to request directions towards my mother, so that the two of you might settle whose ego is bigger, that you are here for?” She asked, one corner of her mouth quirking upwards, for the moment ignoring the inquisitive stare towards her backpack. 

“Your mother? Hells no. I am here for the demon-fay.” As if not already obvious to whom she was referring, Malvossia lifted a hand to point at Cassandra. “The far more interesting of the pair,” she tacked on. 

[i]”Moi?”[/i] She inquired, hand to her chest. They had conversed briefly during the previous day—Or was it still the same day? It had felt long enough for two—but beyond that the demoness in front of her had taken up no space in her thoughts, and she had assumed it was mutual. 

To be named the [i]’interesting one’[/i], however, was a curious thing, and certainly dispelled any notion that she had simply been forgotten by Malvvosia. She clicked her tongue, tilting her head thoughtfully as she looked up to meet the four-eyed gaze. “Why?” She asked. 

“You’re cute, but I’m afraid you can’t quite pull off coy.” Malvvosia looked around, clearly trying to find something. After a moment she huffed and plopped herself down on the ground, crossing her legs and letting her wings rest limply behind her. “Why? What an interesting question. Like asking a scientist why they find interest in a supernova. You are quite unlike anything I have ever met. Demons are, well, like your mother and I, and half demons tend to be…” She paused, each of the four eyes blinking in succession, before she finally answered.  “Well, like that white haired one who struts around with a god complex. Don’t get me started on angels, or do, actually. Might prove an interesting conversation.” The demoness smilled a—compared to the usual chesthire like grin—surprisingly normal smile. 

Cassandra shook her head, too vigorously she decided when she had to tuck hair behind her ears again. “I would rather not. If you are anything like Susannah, discussing angels will not end well.” She sighed, leaning forward, arms resting on her knees. “But yes, I suppose that I am somewhat different from the usual half-demons you find. I attribute it to being raised focusing on me as a person, not what I am or what powers I possess. Say what you will about her, but my mother is good at raising children well.” 

“Perhaps for the best. I have very little control over how I feel about angels, so even a well meaning and constructive conversation will end with me in a rage. We don’t all have the luxury of being the kind of person we wish to be.” Malvvosia remained silent for a moment after that. “So, what were you drawing?” She said abruptly, not giving Cassandra time to process her earlier words.

Something in her tone, however, reminded Cassandra of envy, and in the silence that followed contemplated pointing it out, but ultimately decided against it. If the—by her own admission— mere mention of angels would send her into a rage, then she did not want to have to fend off the demon for wounding her pride. She instead looked to her bag, looking back and forth between it and the demoness. 

“The sky, the horizon, and whatever else I see behind you,” she offered, motioning in the general direction of forward. Again she met the four-eyed gaze, calmly straightening and leaning back against the bench. “Is drawing that peculiar to you?”

“If a pure human is doing it? No, not at all.” Malvvosia turned her head completely around to regard the view Cassandra had indicate. “It is rather lovely. You picked a good spot.” The demoness awkwardly bent one of her arms backwards, her shoulder twisting and deforming to allow the maneuver, and plucked a specific feather from one of her wings which she then threw aside. “Why were you so keen to keep your work hidden? The usual apprehension of an artist when it comes to showing their work? Or something more?” The demoness returned her arm to a more normal state of being and turned her head just enough to look at Cassandra with the two eyes on the left side of her face. “Pourquoi? S'il vous plaît.” The white slit of a smile split Malvvosia’s face in two, once more making it unclear if the top of her head was even attached to the rest of her body at that point. 

‘A pure Human’? The phrasing did not sit particularly well with Cassandra for several reasons, not the least of which because of several insinuations it made. Her lips pressed into a thin line, several sentences rushing through her mind, trying to pick the most diplomatic and pedagogical. In some ways Malvvosia was a child, at least of the mind, and it was prudent to keep that in mind when talking to her. 

Deciding that even an imperfect approach was sufficient when talking to the demon, Cassandra said, “You assume there are differences between me and humans, in terms of how we think,” she said slowly. “I have significantly more power than any one human, but beyond that I see no difference.” She elected to ignore the inquiries about her drawings for a time yet, focusing instead on this one topic. “I was raised by a human, among humans, and have spent my entire life knowing only my mother—and scant few others—who is of demonic heritage. It is inevitable that I would be like the humans I live alongside.” 

Malvvosia’s smile faded away. “You say inevitable, I say miracle. To see your human side untainted by the demon half is nothing short of… awesome. And I use that word in the traditional sense. We’re talking on a cosmic scale here.” The demon’s head contorted back to looking at the view.  “Demons, Angels, whichever, we’re nothing more than a taint on this world. Just look what our meddling has caused, what it has done to the humans. They would be better off if we did not exist at all. But you, you’re proof that there is hope for our kind existing in more...well, in a more; Sprinkle in some human, bake among humans a few years. Poof. Something worth existing.” 

“It is a choice to assimilate,” Cassandra said simply. “Even the oldest dog in the world can learn new tricks, and if you so desire you can fit in. It doesn’t matter how monstrous you may appear, or how fey.” She paused, then withdrew her sketchbook from her bag, and held it out to Malvvosia, opened at the most recent page with the half-finished drawing. “Why do you think I drew that?” She asked. 

“Choice...how novel…” Malvvosia’s head snapped back to forward, she then reached out with an arm that seemed to stretch, and grabbed hold of the book to inspect what she was being shown. “I assume you drew it because you liked the view and don’t own a camera.”

“You are not wrong.” She held up her hand, index finger extended, to stop any gloating. She would not put it past the she-demon. “But not right either. I did it because [i]I[/i] wanted to. Me, Cassandra, Little Fairy, or whatever else I might be called.” She reached out and took back the book, and returned it to her bag. “You said you found it peculiar that I, as not a pure human, was drawing. But I don’t do it because of my human side, but because of what [i]I[/i], as a person, want.” She offered her a slightly uneven smile. “What I am is unimportant. I draw because I like to do so.” 

“You do it because you have the choice to.” Malvvosia stood and rather aggressively flapped her wings, kicking up dirt and feathers, Cassandra’s gaze following as she rose. “What creatures like I have can barely be considered choice. You mocked me before for my slaying of false kings, questioned my right to judge. Choosing whom I kill and why is as much choice as I have in the matter. I was born to exact the revenge of thousands of scorned demons, their rage targeted at angles, god, everything. It is only by following the rules I created for myself that I am able to resist the call of that rage at all. Even my own choices are a cage. Other demons and angels are no better, their choices made by a basic instinct buried deep within. You think your mother is as she is because she chose to be? She was born as she is, and she is merely lucky that she has more say in how she lives her life than some of us. Do not mock others for not possessing the gifts you have.” 

Cassandra could not keep her brows from rising, in a mix of both surprise and irritation. It made sense to her, that all thinking beings were as sapient as herself, and so possessed the ability to choose, but here was Malvvosia claiming otherwise, and yet she was constantly contradicting herself. 

She rose as well, though she still stood nearly a metre shorter than the demoness, and looked up to meet her eyes, resolute in the face of what would have others cowering. “[i]Vraiment?[/i]” She asked. “You have no choice, but only a cage?” She frankly did not believe that to be the case, as she had mentioned ample examples of making a clear decision. Nevertheless, there was at least one thing she could smooth out. “If what I said when we first met offended you, then you have my apologies, I speak only of what I see, however.” She paused, clicking her tongue, another thought coming to mind. ”And forgive me if I speak boldly, but you know nothing of my mother. You say she is lucky, I say she worked to get where she is. She seized opportunities and wrestled with her nature.” She walked past Malvvosia, towards the railing that lead to a sheer drop down to the water below. 

“But I think there has been a misunderstanding,” she said, throwing a look over her shoulder. A silent invitation to join her for the view. She looked back towards the setting sun. “My mother will forever be a demon, I will forever be a half-demon. All those I love, I will outlive. I left my family so I would not have to bury my children, as I did my husband. These are facts that we can’t change. But,” she again looked at Malvvosia, this time turning to face her fully, “I was not talking about the ‘What’, but the ‘Who’. You are not a slave to your instincts, and neither am I nor is mother. You’ve yourself given examples of choices you have made, so treat them like a cage of your own making if you wish, but you [i]have[/i] made decisions that go contrary to your instincts—which is simple, mindless rage, if I interpret your words correctly.” She offered her a sincere, if small, smile. “So you see? You do have choice.” 

The other demoness seemed to calm, folding her wings behind her back as she walked over to the railing to have a look at the view. “A nice thought,” she began, “A small consolation perhaps, but I can assure you it is a far cry from true freedom. What I do is akin to taking medication; if I so desire I can stop taking it, but I must then face the unwanted consequences. What kind of a choice is that.” It was not a question.

“And I could choose not to eat.” Cassandra shrugged, giving Malvvosia a sidelong glance. “Just because one option is not a favourable one, does not mean it’s not a choice.” She stretched one arm out in front of her, watching her skin turn violet, green, blue, black, and back to its sun-kissed hue. “Should I desire, I could go around doing that everywhere I went, but other humans would think me frightening, and police and military would likely try to take me in.” She paused, waiting a few seconds for the words to settle in. “The point of choice, I believe, is not to get all the good things, but to be able to make mistakes and—pardon the phrase—’fuck up’, as it were. I think I understand where you are coming from, however, and while it does seem that you might be more limited than I, in what options we have, but you’re not without.” She fell silent, then, and after a bit of deliberation, opened her bag again and pulled out her sketchbook and one of her coal pencils. 

“Take this,” she said, holding out a page ripped from the book, and the pencil. “If you feel up for it, draw something you like.” She aimed a mischievous smile, so often seen on her mother’s lips, at Malvvosia. “Go on. You can even keep the pencil.” 

Malvvosia accepted both silently, both objects turning to black smoke and absorbing into her body the moment they touched her finger tips. “A kind gift, I shall endeavour to give it a try at some point. Should I feel satisfied with the result I may even share it with you.” The taller demon ruffled her wings, dislodging more feathers. “This conversation became somewhat more serious than I had expected it to.” 

Without warning, the demoness stepped back from the railing and began to shrink not just in height, but overall size as well. Cassandra eyed her curiously as it happened, from the way her torso shortened to how it narrowed as well. Only when a inches separated their heights, in favour of Malvvosia, did she stop shrinking. 

However she was not done, as her wings began to shrivel; the feathers retracting into the flesh and the bones within contorting and twisting until they were little more than stubs that disappeared into Malvvosia’s back, leaving a smooth surface behind. Her limbs followed, with oversized arms and legs coming more in line with humanoid proportions, shortening, leaving behind dainty hands with painted nails. The rest of her continued the same trend, one set of eyes closing, leaving behind a smooth forehead, and blackened skin lightening, freckles dotting her cheeks and nose, blonde hair cascading down her back. 


Cassandra’s eyes widened further as the already human-looking demon in front of her plumbed up, losing her anaemic and anorexic look in favour of a healthy figure not much different from her own. Around her the smoke parted, giving full view of Malvvosia’s body—eliciting a blush from Cassandra—before rushing towards her, adhering to her skin, and forming a set of clothes, that, while appearing well made, were at least twenty years out of date by Cassandra’s estimate. Not unlike the punk-style that were popular some decades ago, a style which did not suit her, as she looked not a day over twenty, and far too conventionally attractive for it to work. 

She brought neither of those things to attention, simply fighting back the image of a naked Malvvosia, when the demoness spoke, bringing her gaze up to the—now—young woman’s, Cassandra’s eyebrows rising at what she saw. 

“Perhaps I shall venture into the city proper, mingle with the humans.”  While Malvvosia’s eyes, unnaturally bright and orange, and a pupil shaped like a goat’s, were unnatural and distracting enough on their own, it was perhaps her voice, that drew the most attention. 

“You did rather well,” Cassandra said slowly, nodding slowly, “but two things I would like to point out, is your eyes, which you admitted when we met you had trouble with. But your voice is… I had expected something light and with a lovely cadence, but you sound like someone thirty years your senior… By looks, that is.” 

“Why thank you. Unlike most demon’s I have a great difficulty changing myself. The process by which I do this is...elaborate.” The humanoid demon stretched dramatically, orientating her body in different positions to work different joints. “As for your issues, I am afraid there is little I can do. If you knew what I had to do to make my eyes look even this normal, you would cringe. And my voice… I am forced to make my vocal cords by hand, so to speak. To get a voice like you describe would require a level of delicate precision that I am, shamefully, incapable of.” Malvvosia followed her comments up by unceremoniously grabbing the bra she had apparently manifested for herself, through her clothing, and adjusted it in an attempt to hike her ample bosom a little higher. 

Cassandra coughed into her fist, pointedly not looking at Malvvosia’s hands and what they were preoccupied with. “Be that as it may, you need simply change the shape of your vocal cords. Their size in your case, I would think.” She put a hand to her own throat, humming with closed eyes for a few seconds, going through a range of pitches; from as deep to as high as she could make it without changing her own cords, then slowly deeped the pitch, this time making slight alterations to herself. When she opened her eyes again, she said with her voice the same as before, “I think I got it. Try to make them just a little longer. You can clearly make changes by the centimetre,” at this she motioned towards Malvvosia’s hands and fingers, “so making your vocal cords maybe half a centimetre smaller should give you a voice more in line with your… appearance, let’s say.” 

She turned to face the horizon again, tracking the movement of gentle waves with her eyes, meanwhile contemplating the fact that Malvvosia and Susannah were similar in certain aspects of their preferences. 

Once again there was but a brief moment of silence before it was destroyed by a high pitched screech that fluctuated and surfed through a variety of tones. It was quite clear Malvvosia was attempting to follow Cassandra’s example and fix her voice. Where Cassandra’s vocal display was elegant and impressive, Malvossia’s was reminiscent of the sounds a cat and a viper would make if they were placed in a sack together and kicked down a flight of stairs. A particular vocal concoction seemed to amuse the demoness as she stopped to laugh at —and with— it for a moment, invoking the kinds of feelings only a satanic clown could. When the auditory horror stopped, and her voice returned to something that did not induce migraines, she went to test it. “Hello… hellllloooooooo… words, words, words. Malvvosia, Slayer of false kings! Yes I suppose this is much better.” The new voice, though still a bit deeper than one might expect, was leagues better than what she started with. 

Malvvosia moved to stand beside Cassandra, getting close enough they almost touched. “Well! Thank you for your advice young demon-fay. It seems to have made quite the difference.”

Cassandra removed her hands from her ears, and dared to look back up at Malvvosia. “You did well,” she said, hoping the false cheer in her voice masked the lingering headache from whatever sound it was Malvvosia had made. It took a few moments for the ringing and pain in her head to disappear, but once it did she continued with much more genuine cheer. [i]“Bon travail[/i]. The only challenge now is your eyes. I would advise you practice. Learn how the human body is built, and shape yourself in accordance with it.” She looked up at her out the corner of her eye. “That is how mother may look as she does, even when she is akin to a perfect marble statue like you compared her to. However perfect or impossible she appears, it’s still just human features she puts together. Like a puzzle.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind. For now, I am pleased enough with the voice change.” Malvvosia tapped a gentle tune out using her nails on the railing. “So… you mentioned you have children.”

While perhaps the uncouth and improper reaction, Cassandra was instantly on guard. Very few demons thought of children as anything more than playthings or tools, she had been told, and that was in the case of their own. When it came to the children of others? She chose her words carefully, keeping an eye on Malvvosia as she spoke. “I do. Why so curious all of a sudden?” 

“Most demon’s treat children like pawns,” the demoness paused a moment, which gave Cassandra enough time to register her words and mentally prepare for whatever else was to come. She added, “Maybe even a rook sometimes.” Malvvosia continued to tap out the gentle tune, her other hand joining in, changing the song slightly. What started as something akin to a gentle lullaby turned into a somber sad song. “But you have already proven to be different. So I am curious to see what you think of your children. Perhaps even learn a bit about them.”

“I would prefer not to talk about them to someone who does not know them,” she said. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t cautious. Her words had very much confirmed that her own mother had told her, and it gave her no confidence that the demoness would not do something to her family should she discover too much about them. She was unfazed by the shapeshifting and supernatural displays of power, but she could say no such thing about her children and their families. She had been lived knowing she was something special, something powerful, but her children had not and she wanted to keep it that way. “I hope you understand,” she added after a while. “They believe themselves to be nothing but humans, and I don’t want anyone or anything to change that.” 

The somber tapping slowed to a stop. “Oh.” The demoness fidgeted uncomfortably for a moment before resuming her tune. “I understand.” 

Cassandra offered her a smile. She still hadn’t let her guard down, but at this point Malvvosia looked like the image of a young, dejected woman. It was hard not to feel some sympathy, even though she was secure in her decision. “Thank you. Now, about that drawing you wanted to make?” 

Malvvosia’s smile returned, stretching unnaturally large for her human appearance. “Yes, I could use some pointers.”