[Center][i]"This Earth right here is ripe with desire, dreams, hopes, lust, and a .1% that rules it all. It's the perfect place for envy and the desperation of those in search of influence, and money to cultivate. Along with that, many live in fear, and out of their prejudices, desire power to crush any threat. They'll take any advantage they can. That's where we come in. A few powerful devils were hanging around there that ruled for eons but I pushed them off the block for now. No telling when they’ll come back but I'm not the type to sit around and fear the inevitable retaliation, whatever that may be.” [/i]

Two demons locked eyes. Amber-colored versus lime. Both uniquely devious from one another, but cut from the same cloth. Both devils carried their own insidious agendas behind their poker faces, masters of their devilish trades. Ixxa, the succubus reigning over lust, and Parooz, the guile soul stealer. However, despite playing for the same team, neither was too fond of the other's style. 

Violet whips of Parooz's cigar emitted a settling plume of smoke obscuring his eyes, ending their stare-off. An obvious tell. 

[i]"You're thinking about [b]fucking[/b] killing me."[/i] Ixxa's face screamed unamused.

[i]"I didn't say that."[/i] An expected retort.

[i]"You're [b]FUCKING THINKING IT![/b]"[/i] Her voice could be heard out the hall even with all the live music flooding the bar.

Slit-eyed, Parooz skeptically examined the snow-haired succubus, figuring the cat was out of the bag.

[i]"Who told you that?”[/i]

Ixxa's poker face broke.

[i]"A little birdie."[/i]

In a fit of aggression, Parooz snatched his two-timing pistol out of his trousers in something resembling a stranglehold on its grip if that was even possible.

[i]"Tony, you low-caliber snitch."[/i]

Provoking the gun to speak, the mobster recklessly stared down the barrel. A shot rang off from the pistol, lodging itself in the center of his forehead.

The pink-skinned devil fell like a brick, rattling the room's polished silver Schonbek Sterling chandelier overhead. His ashen hair blended into the dusty shag carpet and with a loud thud, he alarmed tiny fleeing blood-orange critters specifically planted in the carpet to clean up waste. Ixxa clutched her 2.55 Chanel Flap, whose leather parted with long lashes as startled almond eyes leered at the faceplanted mafioso. Seeing this as an opportunity to escape, Ixxa pointed her nose up in her exit strut, but Paoroz flopped like a fish out of water, grasping at her heels just within his reach. Promptly lifting her foot ever so slightly, Ixxa stamped the heel of her red bottoms right through the dorsal side of his extended hand with such force it penetrated the oak floors.

[i]"You never change Sepias, but a lot has since you were gone. I think I’ll tough it out with Vileiro and see what he's got planned. Your plans are too dangerous for my liking. Not excited to find out which elder demon you’d like to make an enemy out of for your great return.”[/i]

Unphased, Parooz’s slowly raising head mumbled [i]“Funny you asked.”[/i]

With a bullet still lodged into his skull, his wide grin became apparent even though Ixxa couldn’t see his eyes. 

[i]“I need you to put me in contact with Queen Noppera-bō herself, Ysolde.”[/i]

Ysolde, the embodiment of terror and beauty entwined, exists as the apotheosis of the Noppera-bō within the intricate tapestry of existence. Her form, a paradoxical fusion of allure and dread, casts a captivating shadow across realms, yet she is rarely seen. Ixxa draws much of her seductive power from this entity, but even she knows not to dip too big of a cup. Her presence alone projected an intricate dance of elegance and foreboding malevolence. Far beyond mere appearance, Ysolde becomes a beguiling visage, an enchantress that beckons with an insidious charm that resonates with those who yearn for aesthetic ecstasy.

Her form, or lack thereof, transcends the constraints of mere physicality. Ysolde dons the enigmatic guise of an ephemeral enigma—a spectral figure bereft of facial features, eyes, or mouth. Instead, where her visage should be, lies all-encompassing emptiness, a void that absorbs all light and warmth. This formlessness, like the caress of a shadow, becomes an enigma that invites mortals to unravel its mystery, an intricate riddle that tugs at their deepest desires.

With power like that, it made sense why Sepias wanted to use her as a medium to siphon souls. Ixxa was already a masterful manipulator of beauty and fear, wielding an arcane tapestry that intertwines mortal yearning and apprehension. Yet, the demon before her wanted better. As terrifying as it was, the succubus was now intrigued by the proposition. An unholy partnership of Ysolde's beauty-infused malevolence merging with Parooz's dark ambition would result in a crescendo of chaos that echoed across countless realms. The devil in her came out. The main question she had, however, was that it was overkill. What was on Earth F67x that Parooz felt he had such a need to recruit such a powerful source? Maybe he was looking far beyond that planet alone. Either way, she knew not to dismiss his intuition.[/center]