Dank dreariness misted the walls as usual, even in the upper floors. Confined to something of a lounge was where Argento had found herself for most of the evening. The few books she had a few idle, practically masterless servants gather were all but splayed out across the floor in piles and towers. She'd grown bored with the idle knowledge... again. The words themselves wiggling away from her eyes effortless attempts to follow until she ultimately gave up, tossing the last of what could keep her attention into a once-growing pile. She could feel the eyes of the servants, questioning yet still so subtle that if it were anyone else; they would have undoubtedly either ignored or never noticed. Alas, the Fallen had a particular little 'gift' that made it hard for her to ignore anyone even glancing her way.



She laid there on a plush couch, her head pillowed by a fine cushion of some velvety substance. One arm draped over her stomach while the other swung uselessly off the edge, her finger tracing the lines of the rugs beneath. Rough yes somehow soft, made for durability and finesse. Something the Masters took for granted no doubt, she certainly did; subconsciously trying to pick apart the fine fibers. It was no mystery, or even a hidden rumor; to her that she didn't look the part of nobility. Her calm demeanor hid nothing, much to the anxiety of those who were picked randomly to fulfill her occasional wish. The other Masters, at least those who didn't know her by personality alone; thought of her as little more than some whelp from the families. She'd even heard one call her a 'cast-out'. How laughable.



Yet such humors did not last long. They were always quickly overcome by the less-than-interesting silent screams for help, for salvation, regrets; every hour of the day. Morning to night she could hear the voices in her head whenever a desire to go prod and poke minds hit her. Those who weren't guarded were easy to find, to eavesdrop, to silently sigh at with the same repetitiveness. The girl's body turned, what bare skin could be seen at her thighs felt the chill in the air. Golden eyes shined despite the lack of light and another sigh heaved her body. Did she dare go search out another Fallen? Perhaps a game with the Punishers? Or maybe even some little task for the Servants..? If only more of them wished to learn rather than parade about like peacocks and mongrels, then perhaps then this wouldn't have been such a difficult decision..!



The girl shoved her pale face into the cushion, some strange echo of groans escaping her before she'd finally heard it. Dark whispers, filth-covered whining... Slaves. Argento didn't ever really interact with the lot, most were too forgone with the 'need' of their 'humane rights' back for her to get any interest out of them. Their lies, their deceitful, beggar nature was repulsing. Yet here she was hearing something to poke at the harp-strings of her mind. There was a notice, a silent prayer by those nasty little whispers. Another lamb to the slaughter. A fresh mind yet corrupt by the sadists that called the upper floors their home.



Curiosity sparked in the Fallen lord like an electric shock. In one swift movement, the body that wasn't built for physical action was on it's feet. The steel soles sounding past the thin rubber as easily as if she were walking on spikes against the wood. Quickly her minuscule form hop-scotched over the scattered books, down the halls, tapping loudly against both wood and stone until she found herself in that vile underground. The stone cold chilled her skin, not that she could feel it mind you; she merely knew it was there. The scent of iron, filth, and fear clung in the air so thickly, Argento didn't quite know if she should have felt excited or disgusted further. Even so, it would not deter her. Not while the other curious souls lingers above. For at least a little bit, she wanted to prod at a mind not yet broke. Find something harvest-able before the creature itself was laid barren. Quickly... quickly...



The slaves who could spot a Master on sight shied to the very back of their cages, those who didn't know better tried to grasp out for her, crying for mercy. Others sat like shadows, dead eyes merely watching or ignoring. Mainly, it was as one would have expected to find in the very pits of their little 'society'. Yet the lord searched on, golden eyes glowing brighter in all their inhuman glory the darker it got... scanning through the bars, trying to pinpoint a voice that had gone silent. Slumber? Death? No, not death; there would have been outcries of fear from the others. Not to mention none of those above the Servants had enough gentleness in them to not brutalize their victim so she would have definitely heard a murder.



'Where... where... Whe-Ah..!' Those glowing finally found it, a cage with a lone soul to occupy it's depths. She pressed against the bars, trying to examine what she could from where she was. Alive? Yes. A sigh of relief made its way out her nose. Undoubtedly the creature had chosen now of all times to slumber away, most didn't get that kind of peace once they entered the House. Especially not slaves. How peculiar indeed. But the Fallen was not about to leave the little soul to the peace of sleep, oh no; not while her own curiosity was burning so bright! So she tapped the bars, where there was a finger was now a dark claw clicking insistently at the metal. Scratching at the rust in that irritating sort of way.



"Awaken, little soul. Wake up." the lord commanded, very much intent on continuing with her annoyances until it obeyed. She would stop if it spoke, narrow her eyes and peer down into the darkness. Her tiny form was less than menacing compared to most of the giants in the House but there was still that aura of power about her if one still had the instincts to sense it.

The creature was... slow to say at best. Patience gratingly so if the Fallen lord had to be honest. She did stop her claw from grinding against the abused metal, her finger returning to be just that long before the new slave ever got to the bars. Yet still she watched like an owl on a mouse, eyes unnaturally unblinking with only a slimmer of narrowing when she could fully make out it's form.

Female, definitely once human, untouched by Abbadon still so far it seemed. She could smell no blood or illness as her form finally ambled itself into the light. Sluggish... from sleep? From the transition of the mortal realm to here? It was possible. Still this female human was slow, even after finally reaching the bars. Then it became very apparent, that severe difference in height. Argento had to strain her neck to look at the figure who avoided eye-contact so magnificently. Then it came, the first question albeit not one that the Duke of knowledge was waiting for. She stared silently upward, feeling the hazed mind, peeling into the instincts the female was laying bare before her. Unknowingly the Fallen would have guessed, after all; it wasn't like all the Fallen had abilities like her's. Or perhaps it would have been better to say that there was a bit more layered onto her skillset than the others with their basics. Either way, the act was like a hair of wool before a flame.

Argento narrowed her eyes further, her pupils closing inward like a cat's by the action. "I know. Ask me." The lord replied simply, her offer standing as simply as she stood casual. One blink and her golden eyes were back to their open state, unwavering as the shine bore into the girl's form. "Little one, your powers of deception will be very poor on the monsters hiding in the shadows." without warning, the shorter being reached upward; her hand clearly trying to reach toward that well-played smile. When it became clear that even on her tippy-toes that just wasn't going to work, the Fallen lord retracted her hand; settling herself onto the ground instead. That same hand tapped the cold stone, "Here. Sit. The one known as 'Argento' will teach you before the fangs rip your illusions to shreds."

A rare patience for something as lowly as a slave was displayed, drawing the curious eyes of the other cages. More so when they saw something that was definitely not supposed to be down there, sitting on the floor as though she'd been sitting on some high quality mat. Her legs tucked underneath her, that frame that was already small already looking even more dainty and tinier. Yet she held herself perfectly, the dirt and grime meaning nothing. The cold never felt. Not a single ounce of fear or even a sadistic smile to mark her a Master, only the stoic calm with that glow of curiosity about her. That was the unnatural grace of the Fallen 'Argento'.

Thankfully, or at least fortunately; the young soul had the sense to not only obey but accept the offer given previously. Silently, patiently; Argento waited for the creature to seat herself. The facade erupted, diminished to dust under the weight of the Fallen's eyes. Her mind's eye really. Truly fortune was smiling on the oblivious little one, if it had been one of the others, particularly the more combat-oriented of demons or Fallen; this child's mind would have been shattered before Argento could properly analyze such a confident-thinking self. Or at least it had been and partially still was, aside from the quivering. Though the Fallen did note that the slave still avoided her eyes even after moving to sit with her.

The style was far more suitable to one of lesser birth by the Fallen's standards but it was nothing more than a passing thought. Taking in more of the features, watching for weakness as predators often did whether they meant ill will yet or not. The soul's black hair was rather pretty to the being of wisdom, nearly as pretty as the questions that soon showered the lord in silent bliss. Standard yet important questions for one such as her. Still that innocence of obliviousness clung... did the one who captured her soul not tell her upon trapping it? Usually the ones who fetched often told them the basics if only to mock or watch the terror descend. To see the hopelessness manifest and fester. Alas, here they were; for the great duke herself- not that she minded. Questions were sparkling seeds and the lord did not see any need nor want to muddy them with lies or false hope or wicked intent.

So she answered them after they had all been presented, calculating each reply with simple ease. It was odd that the same question was asked twice: 'who are you' but then, that was often a common factor when it came to a species as frightful as the human race. The straining courage to peek, the obvious effort to follow on that pitiful willpower... it was endearing to say the least. Maybe she would help her...

But first the answers in the proper order. Stoically calm as her face, her voice not belying either good nor ill will. "This is a house. Specifically known as 'The Wailing House'." She answered simply, not willing to add more on unless details were requested. The 'who' she left for the last, moving onto the second with more ease. "'Monsters' the humans whose souls linger toward the filth. 'Fangs' for the little nightmares their higher's call 'pets'.' Demons', you would call them. By definition, also monsters by human standards."

Then there was a moment of questioning from Argento herself, bright hair falling to a side as she tilted her head at the third question. "You are a slave, a fresh one; thus the cage. Did the one you made a contract with not tell you the terms? You have paid therefore you do not receive the benefit of a contractee any longer." A little more detail than necessary but it was satisfying by the Fallen's standards. She could feel the nervousness extend out, the blank mind fretting over the presence in front of her. The little pinches of her arm were not missed. Caught between a pleasing feeling of both the dominance and her little hobby, the fallen straightened herself once more. Feeling the other's eyes on her face yet still missing the glow of her own. Perhaps... yes, that would do well for an example at least.

The question of 'who' combined with 'what'. Human instinct to know what it was the predator sitting before them. The higher being who called several millennia nothing more than grains of sand. A more natural question than some would realize... and the Master was only to happy to answer. "I am the one who has named themselves 'Argento'. In this house, I am recognized as a 'Master'. Your wish for the deeper meaning... I suppose-" again without warning the fallen's delicate hands reached forward passed the bars, hoping to grasp the face nearly pressed against them. To bring her own face closer as the whisper escaped from behind hidden fangs, "it would be better to show you."

In a flutter of sound, a small shower of feathers spilled out into the air. Normal human couldn't often see the wings of the Fallen, yet that shouldn't have been the same for those forsaken to the house. Even if that were not true, Argento had her ways. Bewitching the eyes of the other to show those great black wings in the dark of the pits. An outline of blue to shape where shadow would color those normally pitch feathers. A vision of sight that last only a few moments before the blond recall them, the rustle sounding their return to her body before she'd sit back on her legs once more.

"Mankind has thought us 'demons', those with better terms call us 'devils'. I am a Fallen, it would be wise for you to remember that term. Many of the others do not like being referred to as something as lesser as a demon." Pale hands dusted her lap of feathers, those dark fragments melting into the shadows slowly, one after another. "Do you have more questions?" Two blinks and those golden eyes were on the human's form once more, still as casually stoic as ever if one were to ignore the hopefully glimmer shining her face.

The feeling of human skin was far warmer than that of any demon or Fallen.
At least there was the illusion of that being so despite these particular ones technically on that line of death, an alternate death really. Husks who sold their souls yet still contained life and emotion. It was quite fascinating in its own way... that must have been why her hand lingered for so long. Even after answering all those questions as factually as she did, her hand remained while her body shifted itself back into that comfortable position. The scent of fear was stronger now, not only from this particular soul but from those who had the gall to poke their curiosities in their direction as well. The feeling of the surprise warmed her fingers.

"If it were true, perhaps. Some like to be fawned on and cooed at like flashy bird of prey." The Fallen replied in turn, honestly. It was quite true too, given how proud so many of her brethren and their descendants prided themselves on their power. Her own were not so different depending on the individuals, truth b3e told she might have been flattered if not for that empty hollowness where there was supposed to be fascination.
Once again, those false words rang just that. Too easy to deflect if not outright ignored. She might have done just that if her interest hadn't still been latched onto this somehow still confidently curious little creature.

Shamelessly, the Fallen kept her palm against that warmth even after the next series of questions reached out.
Her skin feeling for the physical reactions, measuring the temperature how she could, listening for the pulse as was her own personal little custom. Apologies fell on deaf ears, the subject herself merely tilting her head once more in that quizzical sense. Why any creature thought to apologize for ignorance was beyond her, a muddled mind baring the same results was all the same to the Duke. So such things were waved off mentally with no reassurances or scoldings to follow. Besides they had a more important question in need of answering didn't they? Albeit, for Argento; it was a very odd question. "You mine?" the Fallen echoed, righting her posture only to find herself pressing her unoccupied shoulder against the bars. Her legs still curled but much looser now, far more casual and uncaring than before. "Yes. I have not branded you as my own nor do I remember anyone telling me I have a new slave from abandonment. Normally your Master would be the same as the one who created the contract, in this case the one who has your soul. They should have given you their name or at least marked your body in some way. The brand should have remained if they deemed to keep you."

Her words were indifferent, stating facts like before. Never mind that she might have just stated for the poor slave that she may have very well been abandoned. Left to rot in the depths of the lowest foodchain to the mercy of those who could abuse... and would. It was no secret that not even the servants tried to ally with the slaves, the weaklings themselves did not do so with each other. At least, they were always quick to betray one and other as far Argento knew, especially in the face of a Punisher or Master. Still it was an innocent enough thought, once again; a normal question. Assumptions would make for that.

And as far as Argento was aware, or cared for that matter; the little soul had the right idea of her purpose in the house. "Yes. As a slave you will not receive the protection a Doll or Servant may be gifted. Most if not all those above you, outside Servants; will undoubtedly command you until someone brands you as their's. Though, that hardly changes unless you rise to a Servant or Doll." Was that enough detail? She'd need to delve into the ranks sooner rather than later too it would seem. It wasn't a complicated hierarchy like the one between the Fallen's nobility. Thankfully she most likely wouldn't have the need to delve into something like that for a human. Not unless they asked of course, but back on track; she had much more important things to think about. Such things that her next question were aimed for with a rather pretty accuracy.

"There is. Going down to up you have your position: 'Slave', then up- Servant, Doll, Punisher, Master, and finally the lord of the house. Every Fallen here is a Master, nothing less. There are some demons but they are very few in number." As she created the list, her finger moved to trace in the air; slipping away from the warmth of that cheek finally. An active illusion of light created words written in a very fine cursive with each 'title'. The light lingered, remaining as long as the lord willed it to be. Such was her magic, that light able to be seen by all. There was the question of 'if the other could read it' but... Argento didn't bother to ask. Not when she felt that little hopeful flame. Was that really hope? Eh, close enough. Generalization was such a grand thing now wasn't it?

Still the Fallen blinked slowly, making out the unspoken word. A finger moved to her chin in thought, those golden eyes wandering off as her mind calculated. "As you are? No. The highest you could reach, or want to; is Doll or Punisher. There are requirements for both, as you would assume." Her body leaned further against the bars, the soft velvet of her created skin never changing color no matter how much she exposed herself to the cold. Once again she began to write in the air next to the created list. A little diagram of examples, oddly neat for being in the air. "You seek a way... I suppose the most direct first path would be a Doll. A prized possession. You would merely need to find a master who would treasure you for not even a Punisher can abuse a Doll. Other masters will not tamper with you either... maybe. It depends on our own little standings. A Punisher requires a certain mindset and honest loyalty which-" she turned to look at the dark haired girl; "would be difficult for you from what I've seen. Still they are what you expect of guard dogs. Tell them to fetch and they will. Those lower than them will cower in their presence or challenge them, it matters not to us really. A dog who can't keep this spot is less than useless."

The pulse was slowing, comfort bleaching the fear and ignoring the bleak situation. Did this creature truly understand? The fear was still there... mixed with what couldn't have been 'admiration'. That soft glow, something she felt from the demons within her legions. From her children who sought to protect rather than overthrow. This, put plainly; was very odd to the monster in human skin. There was a brief moment when a flicker of emotion, the hint of bewilderment widened her eyes only for them to shut completely. A physical force to focus on peeling that apart. Why- was it her honesty? The legitimate answers the lord was giving? Her content with little more than answering simple things? The human didn't feel broken, her mind was cold yes; but in that calculating way many of the souls who wandered those halls were. Still, it was odd to feel such a thing from a slave. It was... unique.

It certainly made her own heavier heartbeat flicker with interest.

Until she remembered this was a new soul, one whose first interaction was with a Fallen who cared not for pointless bloodshed. By force and some help from the increasing meekness, Argento was able to calm herself. Well, in a sense of the word. Nothing physically changed aside from that one little slip. Her face returned to its cold calm, her hands kept motionlessly in her laps, she didn't even shift while still leaning against those increasingly uncomfortable bars. She already knew, mostly from dealing with humans over the several millennia; that there was a sense of self-preservation acting. Thus the fear, the straight-forward, or mostly so; questions. Yet if her ears had been more mobile, they would have flicked when she heard what the little one decided to settle on calling her. Quick learner. The Fallen blinked slowly as if replacing a nod, whether the other would notice or not did not matter to her.

Her patience was not stretched much to her relief when the other continued. If she'd been waiting for a correction or rebuke, the silence alone most likely answered properly. This time however, the Duke could not hide her surprise when learning those 'little details'. Who in the world wou- well, no point to that question now was there? The obvious answer was sitting on the other side of those bars after all. For the first time through this whole conversation, there was a chuff of a sound. The noble quickly leaning forward to cover her face with both hands. Her shoulders shaking with an effort of some kind, a heaved breath bringing back her composure. Slowly her head turned, unable to lean back again for fear of that bout kicking at her lungs again. It was the second part of those words that helped the master regain her calm... momentarily, for at least a little longer.

'Longer' being about half-a-minute before the girl had to whip her face out of view again. The audible snort was not something she could hide, again; those shaking shoulders were surely just a part of the imagination. Yes, surely! Now if only her voice could have mimicked that same point of view. But of course not... "You... You ended it? Prematurely? A seal that lasts ten years... Authenticated by Sitri of all-" There was a girlish sound, like some mixture of a giggle being muffled and a small cry at the pain currently forming in her ribs. It took her more than a few moments to regain some hint of composure again. By that time there were little tears in her eyes, quickly wiped away by the sleeve of her jacket. Actual cherry colored her cheeks from the effort... her occasional snorts thereafter marking her inability to let go of that thought. Still, the Fallen did make an effort.

She cleared her throat a few times. "This explains... so much... heh..." Another heavy breath and cleared throat, "Sitri must have been... so indignant..." Yeah this wasn't working. Once again the Fallen's shaking form had to bury her face in her hands, legs brought up to further try and help the ridiculousness playing out in her head. "That demon must have been... so livid..." Her muffled words carried past the barriers along with another series of snorts. This was both a foreign yet expected sight for those who knew her, any type of mis-dealings with her fellow Fallen were often met this way. Never mind the demon, it was the fact that she knew what an improperly raised soul was like for a Prince of all things. Just the thought was enough to nearly send the girl rolling onto her side like some giggling school-girl... At least she looked the part.

The human's nonchalant words later definitely did not help the matter. With what little decorum she could muster while still in that eternally-feeling episode, the lord summoned enough strength to seat herself properly in front of the bars once more. The tears on her face and the redness in her cheeks showing how much effort it was taking to not keel over. Once again, her throat cleared and she wiped the drops from her eyes. "Ah- Hm, yes." Another choked attempt to keep her giggles to herself. "For giving me that, I will give you both advice and opportunity. Advice: Slow and steady does not win the race. It makes you incompetent and a ready meal for those waiting. Opportunity: If you wish it, I will answer any question you may have without regard to either of our stations. Will you take it?" Her words had somehow, for the most part; gone back to neutral... minus the snort here and there at the end of every other sentence. At least she'd managed to suppress the smile into nothing but her usual face, that was an accomplishment.