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Starved - Rook x Venuris (WTHHero/Degusaurusrex)

He did have some control over magic, that much was obvious as she watched the doors open and allow them entry. Venuris wasn't sure how that made her feel, but she knew that was glad to get out of the rain. Even if she'd enjoyed the fresh air and simply being outside, she didn't have nearly enough clothing on to compensate for standing in the rain indefinitely.

The box she held in arms was set with the others he placed down, and she shifted out of the way to create a fair distance between them as he locked the house up and began to speak. He'd gotten her comfortable clothing? The look on her face was a mixture of skepticism and suspicion as she turned her eyes to the bags, analyzing the distance between them and him.

It didn't seem to matter once he'd wandered off into another room, and she took the opportunity to race to the bags and dig through them. With no knowledge of what he was doing in the other room or how long he would be, she had a very limited amount of time that she could use to change into something else.

Even with the chains gone her movements were clumsy, and the coat ended up on the floor as she struggled to work her limbs into pants and a shirt without catching her tail or horns on anything. It was difficult but not impossible, and once she'd managed to get dressed she took several steps away from the couch and began to look around the room.
 
The room was almost suspiciously common. Books lined the shelf ranging from fiction to self-help. Many of the books looked worn and read. The kitchen could seen partially from the living room and featured hanging pots, pans, and cooking utensils and a nearby door hung halfway open leading to a small bathroom on the opposite end. Outside there was a yard; However, it didn't appear it was used much. There looked like there was some attempt made at gardening. Stairs lead up opposite to the bathroom towards the second floor.

Rook opened the fridge looking at the bottom shelf and grabbed the plastic tub of blood. He curled his lip in disgust, but, shook his head and put it out of his mind. He walked back into the living room and set the small tub back on the coffee table. He had studied the notes of her blood consumption extensively.

He didn't have the energy at the moment to deal with her if she got out of hand and somewhere in his gut he felt a strong sympathetic tug at giving her less than she needed.

He took a few breaths to clear his mind and then walked back into the living room
 
She'd taken the time to look around the room some and analyze what she could see. Kitchen, check. Bathroom, check. Bedroom, check. Then there was the matter of the stairs, but she couldn't see up them to determine what was there. Would she be tossed into a room on this floor, or have to brave another set of stares at his unspoken demand?

The container made a soft noise as it was set down on the table and she turned her head, staring at it from where she'd stopped near the front door. She only needed a small sniff at the air to tell what it was, and even though it was clearly cold and probably as thick as sap, it was still blood and she still needed it.

"Why?" The speed at which she moved to snatch it up surprised even her, and Venuris retreated to her spot near the front door and plopped down with the container. "Is this where you pull out the needles and start poking me after I finish this?" While she didn't waste time draining this container of blood, she was a lot less noisy and graceless about it than she had at the other estate, setting it down on the ground beside her as she finished and licked her lips.
 
Rook watched her as she drank the blood. He raised an eyebrow and said nothing at this. For whatever reason, this bothered him. Still, the atrocities that he had witnessed his grandfather commit to him and others outshined the discomfort of this by miles.

"Everyone has to eat," he replied to her question as if it was the stupidest question he had ever heard. His green eyes softened from their normally constant glare and even seemed to dim slightly.

He walked into the bathroom and without explanation he began to draw a bath. He reached under the sink and grabbed a small lavender sphere and threw that into the tub and turned the water more towards hot. "I'm not going to torture you, rape you, or experiment on you. I told you once already that I do not share my grandfather's habits." A scent of lavender and something sweet started to fill the air. "You should bathe. I don't know if that's a habit of your kind, but, if it is, I imagine it might improve your mood."

He walked back towards the kitchen. "I'm hungry. I'm going to cook. Keep an eye on the bath would you?" Rook didn't appear to be a man accustomed to explaining himself and it seemed more often than not that he simply expected to be understood.
 
That was it? His explanation was that everyone needed to eat? It seemed like such a ridiculous answer, that he wasn't sitting there with an expectation that she would be ready for one experiment or another now that she was further away from death's door. It didn't seem like he was going to give any longer explanation to it either, leaving the room and disappearing into the bathroom before she heard the sound of water running.

Her tail snapped around behind her back as he spoke what was apparently some sort of reassurance, but she only watched him with a guarded expression and flinched slightly. Clearly he knew full well what his grandfather had been up to all these years, although she hadn't figured out if he was bothered by the actions or not. After all, the only reason he was even housing her was because he clearly had no choice, but that didn't explain why he was going to the effort of putting something sweet smelling into the bath. Did she truly smell that bad?

"Bath." It was the only word that she repeated as she abandoned the container and slunk toward the room, sniffing cautiously at the air as she went in and watched the water filling the tub. Was that.. Lavender?
 
Rook momentarily thought to comment that she smelled terrible but kept it to himself. It wasn't her fault after all. He left her alone in the bathroom to take a bath if she wished to do so and set himself to cooking. He rolled up his sleeves and watched her briefly from the kitchen. He could see her smelling the bath water and smiled a bit.

Did she like lavender?

She wasn't any different than a person as far as he could tell aside from the obvious features of her demonic origins. Despite Rupert's warnings about her nature, she seemed...sad. Rook felt sympathy for her despite himself. He felt sorry for her and what she had gone through. He didn't care for it.

He chopped potatoes, seasoned steak, prepared asparagus. Cooking was a point of relaxation for him. It wasn't something he had done growing up. There was always staff for that. He had occasionally cooked with his mother before--

He put thoughts of his mother and her disappearance aside. It would only bring him to boiling rage which wasn't useful at the moment. Without thinking of why he was doing it he cooked enough food for her as well and after thirty minutes of cooking he brought plates out to the coffee table. He sat on the floor; sure, she would oppose his sitting next to her on the couch. He waited for her to return from the bath and spoke quietly to her, "eat if you like. You don't have to do so."
 
It was lavender, and she found herself just staring at the water until she realized she was going to need to shut it off before it overflowed. She fumbled with the handles for a minute before she managed to get the water shut off, hesitantly dipping her hand into the water before determining that it was safe.

Disrobing just as quickly as she had dressed herself in the other room, she slipped into the bath with a sigh of relief. The heat felt wonderful against her battered body, and she sank down in the water with no care for if her hair got wet. It could be handled another time, and the entire length of it was going to need brushed out to get rid of the tangles anyway.

Even over the smell of the lavender she could smell feel, her nose twitching constantly as she tried to relax in the bath. The immense hunger she felt managed to disrupt her relaxation somewhat, and she turned her attention to cleaning herself the best she could before figuring out how to drain the tub. With that done she vacated the bath and found a towel, drying herself off and dressing again before rubbing at the damp ends of her hair. She had managed to keep most of it dry, but the last several inches of it now smelled like the bath she had just emptied.

To her surprise, he was sitting on the floor instead of the couch, and there were two servings of food instead of just one. To make everything even more confusing, he offered her to eat as well! She stared at him with a stunned expression before slinking across the room and taking a seat, sniffing at the food before taking a small bite.

"There's meat." She sounded confused by it as she took a bite, chewing it slowly and turning her attention back to him for a moment. "I haven't eaten meat in.." She paused and tried to remember before speaking again. "...A long time."
 
"I can't imagine that mother fucker cared much at all to allow you to eat," he said casually, probably not aware of just how much venom sneaked its way into his voice as he started to eat. He did a fine job with the steak, tender, and not cooked too long. He made a soft noise of relief. He had gone too long without eating with everything that had happened. Rook ate quietly. His eyes occasionally darted towards her. He didn't know why but he did seem to care that she enjoyed the food. A point of pride, cooking was a skill that took him too long to learn.

He watched her carefully for other reasons. He could see the effects of trauma on her. The way she seemed to hesitate momentarily before every action as if expecting some kind of punishment. Rook himself had gone through years of therapy carefully avoiding indicating any of the hidden world to anyone and keeping a lot of the dark secrets of his upbringing to himself. It had taken time for him to recover to even a small degree. He knew he would never be normal and if it wasn't for his one purpose with life, he wasn't sure he would be well at all.

"If you have preferences for food, let me know, I can cook a range of different ways," he said, halfway through the meal and continued to eat. There was still so much tension in the air. Rook had been alone for a long time and having someone so on edge, even more on edge than himself, around was a difficult adjustment to make.

"The spare room hasn't been set up yet. You can have the bed. It's upstairs and at the end of the hall. The sheets are clean and the blankets as well. I'll sleep down here. I'm going to insist you don't try to murder me in my sleep or get into some other kind of nefarious activity."

He was going to have to get used to having her around for whatever reason, but he had no desire to subjugate anyone. He needed to keep her in order to start accumulating power. Enough to end it. He was, however, somewhat sure, there was some plan of his grandfather's he and it had something to do with her. He would need to get to studying.
 
"Only to keep me alive." She shrugged and took another bite, although she took her time chewing and swallowing it. As good as the meat was, her stomach was unused to such foods, and to having them in such a quantity and it was not happily cooperating with her.

"I like meat." It was the only response she offered to his comment partway through the meal. She had slowed down on eating only a minute or two in, allowing her body time to adjust to the food as she picked absently at the other items he had put on the plate. She wasn't even sure what was of them was, and the look on her face said she didn't like the vegetable very much.

"A bed?" She abruptly stopped eating to stare at him, the fork clattering on the plate as she nearly choked. "Blankets?" She'd never been granted a proper bed before to sleep in, and certainly not one with good, warm blankets.

"You and I both know I can't murder you at all." She left it at that and returned to eating, although she only managed a few more bites before she pushed the plate away.

"Do I have to eat it all?"
 
He scoffed a bit at the comment about her not being able to kill him. He shook his head very slowly and put his pointer finger and thumb on the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. "Oh, that's quite a relief," he said, sarcastically. He looked over at her and gestured. "But I'm sure your capable of all manner of ways to cause me difficulty, and I would rather you didn't."

"Yes, a bed and blankets. I'll arrange for you to have your own eventually," he commented easily, "and there are plenty of ways to cook meat, so I'll keep that in mind."

He stood, taking his plate and hers and walked them both to the kitchen. "Normally, I would suggest eating all of it, but I imagine your stomach isn't used to it. I'm not really sure how most of it fits into your diet anyway." He began to clean the dishes working through the task methodically. What else should he cover with her? He was certain she would have questions and suspicions.

"I'm growing tired. Is there anything you would like to know before I go to sleep?"
 
Her own bed and blankets. Oh, he definitely wanted something from her if he was offering such luxuries. This wasn't simply a case of not being like his grandfather, there was something else at work and she wasn't sure what.

When he announced that she wouldn't be forced to finish the food she sighed silently in relief, fidgeting with the sweat pants she'd been given and watching his disappear into the kitchen. She'd been given a bath, clothes, a meal, and he wasn't even insisting that she make herself useful by cleaning up. Was she dreaming, or hallucinating?

"Are you ever going to let me go?"
 
Now that was a difficult question for Rook to answer. He continued to clean the in the kitchen. The seconds ticked by uncomfortably for a few moments before he started to speak. "I don't know. It's not my desire to keep you here. I have no interest in subjugation. I don't care for having a hired staff let alone a slave whatever his or her origins." He seemed to be thinking more. He walked towards the fridge and grabbed the broom and dustpan.

More time went by before he decided to continue. "I only have one goal left in life. Only one I care to pursue. That's the unequivocal destruction of The Order of the Yellow Rose. My family's crimes can't continue to go unpunished. I have no idea how to do that other than to amass enough to power to ensure the murder of every family member and key figure involved. I have no idea how long that will take."

Rook put the broom and dustpan away and closed his eyes taking a deep breath. He hadn't really said this out loud before. "For whatever reason, it was my grandfather's desire to have me keep you bound to the mortal plane. I imagine that this is not a good thing and fits into a master plan to get me to join "the dark side" or whatever. I have no idea that you were not brainwashed to some degree and are just toying with me so that you can manipulate me later." Rook shrugged and poured himself a glass of water.

"By any means, once I've acquired enough power to murder everyone involved in The Order, and destroy my grandfather's legacy, I plan on ending my life as even though they deserve what I plan to do, I doubt very much I will want to carry the burden of guilt, at which point, you'll be released from your binding."

Rook drank half the glass of water. "Anything else?" He said, coldly, as he poured water into a second glass for her.
 
For several moments Venuris was sure he was ignoring her, and when he spoke it wasn't with the answer she wanted. A slave, that was exactly what she was, even if her duties had changed. Was it truly any better to escape one hell for another? She waited, silently, as he moved around cleaning and began speaking again, latching onto his every word in the hope that something in them would give her a chance at freedom someday.

"You think I want to be here?" Brainwashed and toying with him, as if she would waste the little energy that she had on that! She would sooner rip out her own heart than have allowed another mortal to bind her to him, and now she was stuck in this filthy world indefinitely.

"No." There was no point in further questions, and she avoided his eyes when he returned and offered her a glass of water. "No, your slave has nothing more to waste your time with tonight." Perhaps it was a bit petty, but he'd been throwing petty phrases around at her throughout the night, so she didn't feel especially guilty for the tone of her voice. Her eyes stayed away from him as she vacated the couch, going straight for the stairs in search of the bedroom he'd mentioned, lest he change his mind.
 
Rook rolled his eyes at her reaction to his statements. That's what she's going to latch on to as far as the conversation went?! She was probably more human than he was after all. As she began to head towards the stairs he said "I don't see you as my slave, despite that fact that you are bound to me. If I could release you, and still have an opportunity to stop my family's crimes, I would." He waited for a brief moment and added, "what I want and what you might want is secondary to riding the world of this organization and its evil."

He didn't have anything more to add and didn't try to stop her from leaving the room. His temples were already aching in frustration as the rage that put vast effort into keeping bottled up threatened to escape. It wasn't really directed at her, but his family and all the atrocities they were guilty for as well as those inflicted on her.

The night was not a restful one.

He slept for a few hours on the couch and then woke unable to sleep any longer.

He began to work through the night instead. He went to the closet pulling out a corkboard with the pictures of members he was aware of and notes on their weaknesses and whereabouts. By the morning, the living room was full of fold-out tables filled with notes, open books, various notes and jottings. Rook's eyes were heavy and black bags framed his green eyes making them seem brighter. He was sure he looked like hell.

Rook was uncertain what the morning would bring to further interactions with Venuris, but it was clear her presence wasn't going to be an easy thing to manage.
 
Her life meant nothing in the grand scheme of things, so long as she was useful in his quest. That much had been made abundantly clear to her, and it was just another reason that she remembered why she hated humans so much. She didn't care that it was supposedly for the greater good of the world. They were always willing to sacrifice others for the sake of their quests, so often making claims like that just to cover up their own greed and malice as they slaughtered their own kind. Yet they called her kind the monsters, how ironic.

The bedroom door was closed immediately after she entered, and she opted to skip exploring the room in favor of using the bed. The furniture, as well as the rest of the room, smelled like him, but there was nothing she could do about that. All she could do was climb up and under the covers, marveling in just how soft everything felt against her skin.

It should have made it easier to sleep, but it didn't. She found herself tossing and turning throughout the night, so unused to the comfort of a real bed that her mind didn't know what to do. The last few times she'd been in any real bed in this world, well, those were times she'd rather not think about.

When morning finally came she lay staring at the ceiling, listening to the sounds of Rook moving around downstairs. His constant movements throughout the night had been another reason it had been hard for her to sleep, but she hadn't dared to open the door and make an actual complaint to him. The thought of having the bed taken away for her complaints had been a horrifying thought, and had been enough to keep her in there for the entire night.

When at last she couldn't stand it any longer, Venuris dragged herself out of the bed and tiptoed down the stairs, stopping just before she reached the bottom and peering into the living room. What the hell had he been doing there all night? She took in the disaster the room had become before braving the last stairs, slinking around the room carefully and into the bathroom for a moment before she returned to simply watch him from across the room.
 
Throughout the night, Rook had wrestled somewhere in the back of his mind with the presence of Venuris.

When he had set himself to the task of ending this the way that he decided to do it, he hadn't had it in mind to have another entity under his care for which he had been responsible. Relationships had ended. He struggled to connect intimately with anyone. Over the course of his life away from his family he had realized that it was already too late for him to have a life that reached normal or happiness. Rook was simply too broken already to have anything to do with a normal life and so there was this. Perhaps it was the only thing keeping him alive or perhaps not. He wasn't sure he knew anymore.

The moral center of his soul made it clear to him that keeping her here was going to be an endless source of guilt, but he was used to guilt. The only thing he wanted now was revenge for what his life had been, and the damage done to his soul. Still, dragging someone else into this wasn't something he had accounted for, but why would he give it all up now? For what?

It was perhaps for this reason that Rook didn't know what to say at first when he noticed Venuris sneak through the living room and then out from the bathroom like a frightened stray cat. It was cute on some level and troubling on another. She was another victim of his family's and another reminder of his guilt.

Rook was looking at one picture in particular on the corkboard, a weak link, in the power structure. His left hand was covered in ink smears and there were various bottles of ink and fountain pens scattered in the room. He made a soft coughing noise under his breath. "Venuris, there is one more tub of," he paused, "sustenance in the fridge. If you'd rather have breakfast than stare at me, I think I'd prefer that."
 
Could he not bring himself to call it blood? Now that was interesting. Despite the fact that he'd made it clear he was disgusted by her diet requiring it, she hadn't expected him to avoid calling it what it was, altogether. Was he squeamish? No, someone hellbent on tearing apart and murdering their family couldn't very well be squeamish, it was too much of a contradiction, unless he intended on using her to do all of the dirty work.

On one hand, it was a revolting thought. On the other, the thought of tearing anyone who had been a part in her torment limb from limb was very appealing. Regardless of whichever of those were true, there was still the matter of the blood in the fridge. The very cold, thick blood with the consistency of sludge.

She made a noise and muttered under her breath before disappeared from the room, staring hesitantly at the fridge before opening it and peering inside. What had the container from the previous night looked like? Ah, there it was. She grabbed the container and closed the fridge again, struggling with the lid for a moment before she managed to get it off and drink the cold liquid as fast as she possibly could.

It was accompanied by slight gagging and sputtering, but she managed to keep everything down before she looked around for somewhere to set the container. Did she just.. Throw it out?

"What do I do with it?"
 
"Wash it," Rook said, absently, still staring at the picture. His eyes were narrowing as he wrestled with what he might have to do. There was some truth to what his family thought about him. He was soft. Two sides of himself were at odds internally battling. He had no desire to murder anyone, but this woman, a member of the cult, the list of her crimes in the service of gaining power were long and atrocious. If anyone deserved to die...

"I'd rather not be sending more plastic into the oceans if I can help it. The tubs can be reused, I feel bad enough about the plastic bag from earlier," Rook said, and then added "If you don't feel like washing it, I will. Just put it in the sink, I don't know. Figure it out."

He sighed heavily and flexed his fingers. He picked up a pen in his left hand and concentrated making it hover, spinning slowly over his hand, and stared down at it. Another minor spell. A trifle. Only worked on small objects. Next to useless maybe. Magic was connected to the essence of his soul. He curiously pondered if using magic to murder would end up slowly corrupting him. Rook sighed and dropped it to a nearby fold-out table and walked into the kitchen pouring himself some coffee.

"How did you move about in the mortal world and keep yourself from being seen before you were captured?" He asked and filled his coffee mug.
 
"Wash it?" She stared at the container and then the sink before slowly walking to it. "With what?" Water wasn't going to take the stench or stain of the blood out, what did he want her to do? It seemed she was saved by him telling her to do whatever she pleased with it, however, and she set it carefully in the sink and fiddled with the tap to turn the water on. When the water came spitting out so suddenly she made a noise and slammed her hand down on the tap to shut it off, stepping back and eyeing it as though it might reach out and bite her at any moment.

"What?" Venuris jumped at the sound of his voice. She hadn't heard him come into the kitchen, too busy staring at the sink as if it was an evil entity to be feared. "I made myself look like one of you." She turned to him with a frown, edging across the room to further the distance between them as she answered.

"I looked like one of you, and sometimes I used portals." How did he think she'd gotten there in the first place?
 
He stared at her and her interactions with the sink. One of his eyebrows slowly climbed upward on his forehead at her discomfort. He sipped coffee, set the mug down, and moved towards the sink. He grabbed the bar and lifted it. "This turns the water on," he said slowly, and then turned it towards the left "this is for hot water," and then turned it towards the right "this is for cold water," he lifted the bar higher "as the bar goes up the speed at which the water comes out increases."

He turned on the water and grabbed the dish soap from the sink. He squeezed the liquid into the tub and grabbed a dish brush and began to wash it. "Use dish soap to get out terrible smells. I'm not really fond of the smell of...blood." He set the tub in the dish rack and then washed the lid setting it with the other tub. At some point in the night had washed the other dish.

He opted not to make a comment about her lack of knowledge. She didn't seem familiar with modern appliances. For whatever reason, his urge to treat her with disdain was fading. She was something like a stray cat. His sympathy was overtaking his discomfort more and more. "It's okay, don't worry about it. You'll get used to the way it works," he said instead. "And before you get uppity, I have no intention of forcing you to wash all the dishes or be a maid or something."
 
Why were there so many things that had to be done just to wash something? She watched him curiously from across the room but made no effort to move closer, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest. Her tail had been swaying gently behind her back during the process he was describing to her, but when he finished up with that particular clarification it went still.

She wasn't sure which part was stranger to her, the fact that he was telling her not to worry about it, or the fact that he felt it necessary to reassure he she wouldn't be a maid. She had absolutely no intention of becoming his maid, so if that was one less battle that she had to fight, that was even better.

"You have brush?" Well that wasn't the most descriptive question in the world. Did she mean a hairbrush, or a toothbrush? Technically she needed both of them, her hair was tangled and her mouth felt absolutely disgusting after all of the cold blood.
 
Rook's hair was short and brown and grey. He hadn't been in need of a brush for a long time. He used a comb occasionally, but never really bothered to do much with his hair. Or did she mean a toothbrush? There were a hundred things he hadn't thought of in terms of having her under his care a brush and extra toothbrush being among them. It was beginning to dawn on him that he was quite bad at this.

He sighed and grabbed the coffee mug walking back towards the living room. It was an inconvenience, but he certainly didn't want to leave her without what she needed for at least some comfort. It was bad enough that she was being held here against her will. "We have to go shopping and we need more blood from the butcher's anyway. I understand from my grandfather's notes that your powers for illusion are somewhat limited depending on how much blood you've had and..." He paused, "that fresh blood means more power?"

He reached into one of the small drawers in the coffee table and removed a blade. He walked back into the kitchen and grabbed one of the tubs from the drying rack. He rolled up his sleeve and made some calculations about just how much blood to give her in order for her to be able to shapeshift. He didn't really care for this, but Rook, at the end of the day was a man who could do what he needed to do. He pressed the blade into his wrist, carefully setting aside a first aid kit, and with a wince, allowed his blood to begin to fill the tub. "It's clean, I haven't been, uh, intimate in years--" he said, coughed, was he blushing?! He clenched his jaw and just allowed the blood to drip from his wrist until the tub seemed full enough.
 
"You want me to go around other people?" She narrowed her eyes at him. "That is correct, that I require far more power to uphold any type of illusion or change my body. Illusions are easier, but they do still require a fair amount of concentration." Far more than what she currently had on hand, and the chances of having enough blood too--

She hissed loudly at the sight of the blade, watching him press it into his flesh and bring that bright red to the surface. He was going to give her fresh blood? She was captivated, her lips parted as she inhaled the smell and watched every drop that fell into the tub.

"What?" She hadn't been paying attention to what he'd been saying, too busy staring at the blood pooling in the tub. Surely this was a test. "You are doing this because you demand I go shopping with you, that's what this is?"
 
Rook ignored the pain from the open wound though his face tightened as his blood slowly drained. He looked over at her out of the corner of his eyes and watched her demeanor change completely. Her lips pulled back, and he could see her sharp fangs behind her lips. He could see the slits in her eyes dilate as she seemed almost transfixed to the fresh blood in the tub. This did not serve to endear her to him more. He swallowed and then wrapped his wrist in gauze and taped it down rolling his sleeve back down.

He would some point in the future look back on this exchange. his feelings were odd. There was a strange kind of intimacy and fear here that he didn't forget. He stood and brought the tub to her. "I don't wish to test the upper limits of the distance of the binding. It will be easier if you can come with me, besides, I won't know everything you might need."

He held the tub out to her, his eyes watching her closely, his eyes might have seemed brighter in that moment for whatever reason. "Take it," he said, feeling awkward and conflicted about the exchange, but it seemed to be the simplest solution.
 
"I cannot hold another form forever. It takes a lot of work." She hesitated for a moment before reaching out, snatching the tub from him and then stepping back again before sniffing it. "This will not last forever." There was always something so enticing about human blood, and she'd never been able to put her finger on it. While any blood would do in a pinch, the animals in this world didn't harbor nearly enough power or energy to sustain a demon for lengthy periods. Humans, on the other hand.. Well, there was just something about their blood that made her body sing as she drained the tub and set it on the counter.

"Magic." She'd forgotten about the little magic he'd used to open the door on their arrival the previous night, but she could taste it now, feel it flowing through her body as she sucked in a deep breath and grabbed onto the counter. Of course there would be magic in him, he was the grandson of that bastard, and the reminder of that made her nauseated as she shook her head and huffed.

"This will work for now." The sooner they left, the sooner they could finish and she wouldn't have to overdo it again. "Very well, I will make myself appear as one of you for now." It had been so long since she'd done it that she couldn't remember how to concentrate on it at first, and the change was slow but there.

The redness of her skin began to fade away until it appeared as though she merely had something like a tan, and the horns atop her head receded until they disappeared completely beneath her hair. The once slitted pupils contorted and then squished themselves into orbs as amber turned to hazel, and after a long moment of muttering her tail disappeared from sight too.

"Satisfied?"
 
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