CLEA GIVENS
Psychic
Posts: 320
Age:
30
Occupation:
Bartender at the Grill
Status:
Interested In
Partner:
Damian
Played by:
ANGE
Last seen Nov 20, 2024 19:58:46 GMT
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Post by CLEA GIVENS on Aug 30, 2023 21:56:22 GMT
There was probably some sort of rule that demons didn’t eat – it hadn’t exactly been covered in the literature (that had been all about great evils and temptations and signing your soul away) – and so she’d guessed. Worst came to worst, she’d be eating something other than free meals at the Grill this week. The wine breathing on the counter would be appreciated at least, she’d seen him drinking alcohol often enough to know that there was a liquid portion to a demon diet at least.
Clea squinted into the pot, scooping up a few strands of the spaghetti to test. The kiss of the boiling water burned her fingertips but she juggled one of the strands into her mouth. Frowning thoughtfully she chewed, swallowed. Hmm, two more minutes and it’d be the perfect al dente (as if she’d really know what that was). There was a reason she’d never helped out in the kitchens of the bars and restaurants she’d worked at. Carry a few plates to tables when they were busy? Absolutely. She had some grace at least. Managing to cook a steak to the medium perfect rare? Ha. No!
Luckily for both of them tonight, a wannabe chef on TikTok did a semi-decent job of talking her through how to put together a simple meat sauce. She hadn’t even needed to try and dice up the carrots, celery and onion for the soffritto. That sounded exotic at least. The sauce had been bubbling on the stove for two hours now, the last glug of red wine vanishing into it. Clea dipped the wooden spoon back in, fizzing with pride as she stirred through it and saw the sauce gliding silkily back together in its wake. Gordon Ramsey might still have been out of her league, but at the very least she could probably give Guy Fieri a run for his money.
Shuffling across the kitchen in time with the music that buzzed out of the speaker on the counter, Clea grabbed the bowls down from the cupboard. If Damian was on time then she’d barely miss a beat in getting everything out. If. Maybe betting everything with the meal on his timekeeping had been a dicey move, but if she was anything, she was a gambler – and she trusted him. After everything that had happened with his sister, everything he’d protected her through, how could she not?
The lore – in every pantheon - said that demons were corrupt creatures, selfish, vain, only interested in sewing misery and pain. Damian had tried to warn her before that there were parts of him that she wasn’t seeing. She’d sworn that she was seeing enough and even now she’d stick to her guns on that. Evil men didn’t lay their own lives on the line for fragile little humans, they didn’t feel guilt for failing their sister, they didn’t try and sacrifice themselves when it came down to the moment when that sister had a weapon buried in their chest. Tonight wasn’t about trying to lay those guidelines the lore put down over what she knew of him, although a few questions were part of the bargain.
Thirty seconds before the clock ticked over to 8 the doorbell rang. Clea slung the towel over her shoulder and scampered to the door. She threw it open, a single look at him enough to have her smile broadening. ”Right on time. Hi. Come on in.” Her hand went to his elbow, hustling him in through the door, rising to brush her lips over his cheek before she made a beeline towards the kitchen. ”I’m not expert, but another thirty seconds and the pasta would have been over cooked. I’m really not an expert,” she doubled down on the admission, grinning back over her shoulder as she flicked off the burner under the pot of pasta water. ”Question 1 – do you eat? If not then I guess I could probably have gotten away with a microwave dinner for myself.” Or she could’ve reheated one of the cartons of take out from the fridge. Maybe that should’ve been a sign to turn over a new leaf here and make cooking dinner at least a weekly thing.
Tagged: DAMIAN * Word Count: 702 |
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DAMIAN
Demon
Posts: 52
Played by:
noe
Last seen Nov 19, 2024 19:53:23 GMT
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Post by DAMIAN on Oct 9, 2023 15:59:27 GMT
 ━ i know what i am when you're here ━
Damian checked his reflection one last time before he released a satisfied hum and soon enough, he was turning around and heading out of his house so he could go and see Clea. Every time he went to see her, there were warning signs of what could happen to her if he remained in her life and try as he might to keep his distance from her, he simply could not. There was something about her that pulled him to her and after revealing the truth to her, he felt as though his heart was a lot lighter now. He felt seen and it was not at all a bad feeling.
He was all too happy to accept Clea's invite to spend time together because, honestly, how could he say no when he was so unbearably whipped for her that he was all too happy to jump into saying 'yes' even before she could finish the sentence and that's how he found himself making his way over to her place. He could honestly just appear in front of her door, it would be easier that way, but instead he chose to walk up to her place. It made the whole ordeal feel a lot more human and he would rather not flaunt the fact that he was a demon because it was nothing worth bragging about. If anything, it'd serve as a reminder to Clea just how different they were. He doesn't want that. He wants to change, for her.
Because of her.
At last, Damian came to a stop in front of her door and soon enough, he was knocking on the door, announcing his arrival. The door soon opened and his smile was immediate as he looked at Clea. “Oh, I am?” Damian seemed pleased with that announcement. “Hi, love.” Damian greeted not long after, the same pleased smile still resting on his lips as Clea guided him in, his hand resting on the small of her back as he walked into her place. He leaned down a little more for her to be able to properly kiss his cheek when he felt her lips brush against his cheek in a gesture that was far too sweet for someone like him, but he ate it up.
He followed her into the kitchen, the same fond smile still locked on his lips. “Not an expert, you say?” Damian teased when she repeated that she was not an expert. “In that case, I am delighted that I came before such a disastrous thing could happen. Can't let all your hard-work go to waste now, can I?” Damian looked at what she had on the stove with a curious look on his face. Not to mention the smell really drew him in. “I don't know what you're talking about, sweetheart, it smells absolutely divine in here.” Should he be saying that as a demon? Oh, well.
“I don't need to eat, but, trust that I will absolutely devour what you've made for me.” Damian assured her in a soft voice. “Also, you ought to make it a habit to eat well at least once a week. You must take care of yourself.” Damian chastised, though his voice remained soft and his expression just as tender.
CLEA GIVENS |
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CLEA GIVENS
Psychic
Posts: 320
Age:
30
Occupation:
Bartender at the Grill
Status:
Interested In
Partner:
Damian
Played by:
ANGE
Last seen Nov 20, 2024 19:58:46 GMT
|
Post by CLEA GIVENS on Oct 22, 2023 14:20:33 GMT
It wasn’t like she hadn’t known how human supernatural creatures (for want of a less wince inducing word) could be – hello, psychic with freaky ass prophetic dreams and the ability to send objects flying through the air right here – but trying to reconcile a demon with the man she’d come to know hadn’t been easy. Clea had told herself dozens of times that there was some other side to Damian that he’d tried to warn her about, but each time she’d come back around to the person who’d saved her from his sister’s fangs, who’d gently applied bandaids to those wounds and had tried to convince her to stay out of the fight when he’d finally gone to confront the sister he thought he’d failed. Those were the signs of someone corrupted beyond redemption, not the way the demon who’d killed her sister had been.
That was where her gut had knotted up as she’d read through every bit of lore she’d been able to dig out of her collection or find afresh. Her family had been shattered by someone of his kind, a creature that had revelled in tormenting her sister and her friends. They’d tried to put themselves together afterwards and had given her away to make sure that her life didn’t end up shadowed in the same way. Instead she’d found herself in the dusk like situation with Damian – the gloom overpainted with those streaks of colour that had you forgetting that there was anything dark beneath.
Like she was determined to keep overpainting the dark side of everything, she’d blasted through those pesky questions about what was true about demons and what wasn’t and had cooked, had left the bottle of wine (well, the first of them) breathing on the table that was already set. While everything was at its peak of perfection Damian had shown up at the door, with his usually apt sense of timing – whenever she’d needed him he’d been right there.
Clea’s lips remained curved in an echo of his as he smiled back at her. She nodded gesturing back over her shoulder towards the kitchen before she’d drawn him into the house. ”I tried to time everything down to the minute to make sure it was ready when you got here … and whadda ya know, it turns out I’m psychic.” Winking at him, she moved ahead, feeling the steady warmth of his hand at the small of her back. Wanting to sink into it, she rose on her toes, kissing his cheek in greeting.
Back on her feet, in the middle of a room that thankfully didn’t look like a bomb had hit it (not now, anyway), Clea snorted. She cast a wary look at the still steaming pot of pasta. ”Not in the least – there’s a reason why I’m at the Grill so much.” There was a whole bunch of those outside the fact that she was paid to be there most of the time. He hand rose to settle on Damian’s chest in gratitude for the assurances – the ones that probably meant he’d have eaten it even if it turned out to be fit for nothing but the garbage. ”Flatterer,” she murmured, unable to keep the smile from her lips though.
”The lore didn’t say one way or another, so I took a chance,” she admitted. She went to reach for the pot to strain the water out and dish up, but she was immediately had her hands up. ”I do,” Clea promised before she looked chagrined. ”It’s just food other people have cooked well, it’s easier on the kitchen that way.” And on her cleaning up whatever disaster zone she created afterwards. ”I figured I couldn’t go wrong with the wine at least. There’s a bottle of red on the table if you want to pour … or white in the fridge. How have you been?” Concern filled her eyes for a moment as she stole a glance at him. Clea picked up the pot then, hustling over the sink with it to drain the pasta. She shook the colander slightly before dumping the spaghetti into the pan of simmering sauce to stir it all in. It was tooting her own horn, but it did smell great as she then carefully served it up into bowls and carried it to the table.
Tagged: DAMIAN * Word Count: 725 |
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DAMIAN
Demon
Posts: 52
Played by:
noe
Last seen Nov 19, 2024 19:53:23 GMT
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Post by DAMIAN on May 4, 2024 12:31:30 GMT
━ i know what i am when you're here ━
Damian felt a soft smile tug at the corner of his lips when he realized just how much thought Clea had put into this. It was single-handedly one of the sweetest things anyone had done for him in a long, long time. He let out a chuckle when she called herself a psychic for being able to time everything down to the minute that he got here. “Well, you are truly one of a kind, Clea.” Damian said with a gentleness to the tone of his voice as he watched her with obvious fondness in his eyes.
“Ah, is that so?” Damian trailed off with a soft hum following and when her hand came to rest on his chest, he looked down at the hand with a gentle smile resting on his lips before he moved his hand to rest it atop hers. “I’m only speaking the truth, sweetheart. Demons don’t lie, after all.” Damian frowned slightly when he realized that it was far from the truth. “Nevermind, we absolutely do. I don’t, though. Not to you.” Damian said with a gentle smile still resting on his lips.
“Of course it did not. I’ve always hated the idea of there being a lore about us. What are we? A slow cooker and this is our manual?” Damian wrinkled his nose in distaste before shaking his head. “Next time, you can just ask me, sweetheart. I’ll be truthful and a lot less vague than the lore.” Damian assured her, still feeling like he selfishly didn’t want to let go of Clea’s hand, but he didn’t want to hinder her, so he let go. “Hm. Alright. I will let you off just this once. Just, ensure that the food has nutritional values. You humans are so fragile and I’d hate for you to fall sick.” Damian admitted with a nod of his head following.
“Red, always.” Damian left for a moment to pour them both a glass before he lifted his head at Clea’s question. His expression softened at her concern. “I’ve been quite alright, little one. I promise. Things have been rather hectic down there, but as long as they’re not asking questions as to why I’m not actively trying to ruin people’s lives, I should be alright for a while longer.” He made his way back to the kitchen just to watch her work with a lovestruck expression on his face. He was truly gone for her, wasn’t he? “What about you? How have you been?” Damian followed Clea to the dining table. He carefully scooted the chair backward for her to have a seat, making a gesture for her to sit down since he didn’t want her to worry too much about anything else and to just eat the food she had so meticulously prepared for them. “I’ve never quite known what Heaven smells like, but I think this smell is pretty close. I’m starving.” Damian said as he moved to his own chair not long after. He pushed the utensils close to Clea so she could eat and moved the wine glass close to her as well before he started eating, humming in delight. “Would it be too much to ask for you to live in with me and have you prepare such delightful meals for me every day? I feel like that would be Heaven for me.”
CLEA GIVENS |
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CLEA GIVENS
Psychic
Posts: 320
Age:
30
Occupation:
Bartender at the Grill
Status:
Interested In
Partner:
Damian
Played by:
ANGE
Last seen Nov 20, 2024 19:58:46 GMT
|
Post by CLEA GIVENS on May 16, 2024 18:10:40 GMT
Much to her parents’ frustration, Clea had always been determined to do things her own way. Sometimes she’d regretted charging ahead the way she had, but in the end, she’d always felt like she’d benefitted more from that boldness than she’d lost. Pushing the boundaries, she’d come to America and found her sister. Pushing them again, she’d found Damian and had refused to step away or stay back when it perhaps would’ve been safer too. Who wanted a boring, safe life when you could have this? When she could have a man who called her one of a kind that way.
”I’m not the only one,” she told him, reaching to settle her hand over his for a moment. ”I’ve never met anybody like you.” There’d been people who gave compliments as often as they breathed, but never with the same sincerity, or with that same look in their eyes. When he looked at her that way, how could she believe that he was supposedly a bad man. A demon.
Making a low sound in her throat, Clea nodded. She rolled her eyes, the sound breaking off with a rueful chuckle. ”We’ll call it one of my biggest faults,” she joked lightly. ”It’s always just been easier, since I’m there to work anyway.” And it had given her the chance to go straight from work to the library with no stops in between. The feel of Damian’s hand on hers had her drawing in a breath. Her gaze dropped to it for a moment before she looked up, watching the words drip from his still smiling lips. ”I was going to call you a liar then,” she murmured. ”I’m glad I’m special enough that you don’t. I want you to know you can always tell me the truth, about anything.” In his sister’s room he’d been painfully honest with her, showing her what he’d hidden from her and instead of running from it, that truth had just drawn her in further.
Demons were supposed to be corrupted souls. The good burned out of them down in Hell through an eternity of torture. She’d worked her way through Dante first, hoping that he’d sprinkled his Inferno with a ton of poetic license. Her brows drew together as she watched Damian shake his head. ”I think a manual would be a little less intimidating,” she said lightly. ”So much of it was ... disturbing.” Of course, it was Hell and it absolutely should’ve put people off of the idea of sinning and going there. Clea patted his chest lightly as she drew away, already missing the feel of his hand on hers. ”You might regret telling me that. I’ve got a thousand questions.” Some of which she probably didn’t want to know the answers to.
If anybody wanted proof that the lore was bullshit, they only had to hear this conversation. The care Damian showed towards her wasn’t the sort that could be faked, his words rang with an honesty that had warmth spreading through her chest. ”I promise. You don’t have to worry, I haven’t been sick in years.” Her parents had fussed any time she had the sniffles as a kid, probably imagining that something awful was on its way. As an adult she was one of those annoying people who always seemed to manage to avoid whatever ick was going around.
It had been hard to imagine how things actually worked downstairs, but hearing that it hadn’t changed was a relief. Damian’s presence in her life could be a danger if any hunters came sniffing around, she hadn’t imagined how it would’ve been on the other side of that. One corner of her mouth lifted as she slowly swirled the pasta with the sauce. ”You could always tell them you’re playing a long con with me. Suckering me in for some big pay off later.” Anything to keep him safe.
She set the bowls down on the table, then smiled sweetly at Damian as he drew her seat out for her. ”You’re so sweet,” she assured him as she settled in. ”My ego’s not gonna fit through the door by the time you’ve finished eating.” Clea was beaming as she picked up her spoon and fork and began winding pasta up onto it. ”I’ve been well. Splitting all my time between the library and the Grill still. It keeps me out of trouble, I guess.” Especially when the dreams that struck without warning had a tendency to drag her into it. Humming lightly, Clea studied his face as she ate her first mouthful – he was barely exaggerating. ”You want me to move in? What do I get if I do end up your own personal chef?” Her brows rose, a teasing smile touching her lips. Heaven was pretty close, it certainly wouldn’t be a hardship for her to see him every day.
Tagged: DAMIAN * Word Count: 813 |
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hope to see you in the discord! 
