The confessional before you is ornate and well maintained, ebony colored wood embellished with the visage of two angels. A jet black curtain separates the confessional from the rest of the Church, offering a surprising degree of privacy to any eavesdroppers nearby. Unlike the rest of Krakow, the inside is dimly lit by a small light bulb securely attached to the ceiling which emits a faint red light. While the atmosphere isn't exactly cozy, it is private.
A smooth voice calls out to you once you've sat down, familiar enough to identify the speaker despite the partition between you.
"Welcome welcome. I take it something is on your mind?"We're in a museum now, Harry.
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dominioned) wrote2019-12-03 07:17 pm
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Once or twice.
[...because of that.]
But I decided not to even try, after seeing some of your power and competence. I hate to admit it, but you must be the best assistant I ever had. And also you could punch my head off if you wanted. Both those make trying that on you...unwise.
Also, I order you to never tell anyone I said you were the best assistant I ever had.
[Besides, would it even have a chance to work on supernatural creatures? Hardly, she supposes. They don't even work on mere animals!]
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It might have been an interesting experience for both of us. Such a thing would not have any effect on me of course, but this body is capable of taking physical damage—do you know what it feels like to ingest several magazines of machine gun bullets? [ Of course she doesn't, but he feels the need to ham anyway. ]
I would never do such a thing, my lady. Tenderizing must be done with care, else it result in chewy meat. [ She can't see his smile but she can certainly hear it. ]
...as you wish, but I hardly imagine someone will ask me that.
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Thanks for the descriptive response, I wanted to imagine that particular mental image! What would I do without you.
[Not imagine that, in the first place, which she'd have prefered. The Lady stands up from her seat. Hardly anyone will ask him that, huh? That so?]
That's what you think, but they're still thinking we're married. I'm starting to hold a grudge because of that, Rembrandt, you fool. Lucrezia never forgets her grudges.
[She talked more than she expected. She had planned to complain a bit, give the order about the lamp posts, and make her exit, but instead she got distracted. Well at least it wasn't boring, she can concede that much.
Without even bothering to give a 'see you later', she steps out of the confessional. Byyyye, Rembrandt]
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Even for a demon that is a lofty statement. [ Demons will do anything for a price but marriage is not something that's asked of them often. Probably. ]
However, I will answer your call anywhere of course, even to your bed. [ Yeah he's only talking like this because it gets under her skin, he's not capable of romantic feelings even if he is more than capable in bed. And of course that's the last thing he says before she stalks off. Perfectly fine, he can monologue by himself. ]
For a not so tiny master, she is almost as petulant as he was. How fitting.
[ Perhaps he'll sit here and think in days past for a little while. Or at least until Iago comes to shittalk with him about her, which he'll happily oblige. ]