Who: Samandriel & Lord Carrick When: Friday Evening, Week 8 Where: The Shopping District Why: To freak out the ancient vamp Warnings: Some strong language, light violence/intimidation, dub-con
Being human might've been new to Samandriel, but that didn't mean he couldn't tell when he was being treated like shit for no good reason. Art dealers had a pervasive reputation as being dicks to people they decided were beneath them regardless of their standing as Master or slave. Before, it hadn't been so much of an issue for the angel because he'd been an angel and nobody argued with them particularly an angel of imagination when it came to art. Now, however, he was very firmly planted on the other side of the social barrier, the dark red collar around his throat that offered him a strange feeling of security worked against him. Sure, the tank top and shorts probably weren't helping much either, but just because he dressed for comfort didn't mean he didn't know what he was talking about.
This particular gallery owner (or owner's representative) was a demon, and Samandriel only knew that because his eyes clicked threateningly black when the former angel made his point. Later, he might decide it was interesting that the black-eyed creep had seemingly seen none of the echoes of what he'd been, saw only 100% human when he was busy snarling. Regardless, he'd found himself thrust unceremoniously out the door, said door slammed in his face as he glared indignantly inside. "Shameless, pig-fucking cheat. Apollo curse you for your art fraud and Hermes ruin you for the lies you try to sell to others," he growled, Arcadian accented Ancient Greek rolling smoothly off his tongue in a curse he was certain nobody around would be able to call him out and perhaps beat him for it.