Young Writers Society

Up until that point, Tep had been slowly working through the natural magic stores (and they hadn't made a dent thus far, which surprised them; they might just end up returning uninvited if they went too long without feeding). However, they sensed they were being addressed, and the magic stores weren't going anywhere soon. Tep turned to the newcomer, sticking out a hand.

"Hi, nice to-" they said, before pausing as certain things registered. First, the question they asked. Second, the fact that she seemed capable of seeing them.

Interesting.

The dark shape moved closer, examining her even as she examined it. Its physical vessel was forgotten for the moment.

"I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you," it said, its voice coming out as a deep hum. "My kind doesn't have a name. Marionettes is a placeholder, if that helps. You can call the vessel Tep, if you wish."

Tep smiled; it seemed to be one of the only actions that didn't require the use of one of the various arms.

The ghostly being curled around her, looking almost curious as it spoke, "Now, what are you? I haven't seen anything like you before."

Her eyes followed the thing as it circled her. Her hands didn't move from the odd-souled individual's shoulders. The soul twisted around them, warm in that hazy, buzzing kind of way that souls sometimes were, but this one was different. More so, somehow.

She didn't answer the thing's question, just watched it. One of her arms reached out toward it, attempting to get a feel for what the thing's soul felt like. It looked like it should be cold and prickly, like ice that couldn't quite manage to form.

For the brief moment that she touched it, it felt strangely warm. However, the moment she managed to touch it, it went ice cold before moving swiftly out of reach, its eyes narrowed. There was a low hum emanating from it, an attempt at intimidation.

"I do not like being touched," it growled.

Her arm retracted and her eyes returned to the oddly formless soul that had initially caught her attention. The arm holding her spellbook lowered and moved off to the side to be joined by another of her arms. She flipped the spellbook open to show it to be full of brail and raised drawing of sigils. Her fingers ran over the words as she tried to figure out a reason for the soul that bussed around her hands to be so strange as it was.

Puck had been too busy marveling the newcomer's appearance - and how it apparently wasn't a guise like his own - to realize that the question had been his to answer. Arthur clearing his throat was a good indicator of that; he didn't know how he had survived before his boyfriend came into his life, because Arthur was seemingly the master of social cues.

"I'm a demon," Puck said, a mischievous twinkle to his eyes as they switched from their current color to a dark, dark red. He then decided that the red was a little too cliche, and changed his guise a little more by making them a swirling array of colors. It was a rainbow, though much more chaotic than rainbows were ever meant to be.

"He's a spirit," Arthur helpfully interjected.

"Pres," Puck whined, "you're ruining it."

"There's actual demons here," Arthur pointed out. "You don't want people getting confused."

Puck mulled over this comment for a moment before reluctantly nodding in agreement. Arthur did have a point, even if Puck did like playing up the demon part when he could. "I'm a marid," he clarified. "The highest tier of spirit - you can tell, can't you?"

It wasn't meant to be a brag, even if it might have sounded like that - something told him that the girl could pick up on his aura to some extent. She had pointed him out, just like she had pointed out the guy who was hovering near the puppet thing. Arthur hadn't noticed that one yet; he was too occupied with other things to.

She swirled the soul around her hand, marveling at how it looked, how it felt. It was powerful. More powerful than most anything she'd felt before. She moved her hands, confirming what she'd thought before by feeling up, his neck, to his face, "Human," she said curiously, "You choose to look human." She was sure of it. The spellbook beside her implied it, between the spells and meaningless jargon, nothing with such a powerful soul as this could look that way naturally.

"I did," Puck replied without missing a beat, seemingly unfazed by her touch. He straightened a little. "Human is pretty popular where I'm from, and this guise does have the added bonus of matching with my boyfriend."

She tilted her head, her hands still resting on either side of his face, "You choose to look powerless?" She closed the spellbook and raised it out of reach once again. Her newly freed hands pressed into the ground on either side of her and lifted her up so she could look down on the soul from above.

It was lovely, really. She moved her hands from his face and circled him, or tried to. The stool beside him got in her way, and she ended up just taking a seat. She tugged at his soul, separating it from the vessel, just at the corner. It got warmer, showing its power in protest. Facinating...

((My computer died, so sorry about being behind.)) Rowenna turned looked directly at them. "I am Dracula's daughter. His one and only child." She watched, waiting to see the reaction, as well as noticing everything ese. This was turning out to be quite a party.

While Arthur gaped at Rowenna after her reveal, Puck kept his focus on the demon (?) that was apparently very into using her hands. "I guess you can say it that way," he admitted. "But anything's going to look a little powerless compared to what I look like beneath the surface."

Arthur momentarily broke out of his awe to give Puck a look that clearly said otherwise, but Puck shot him one back that desperately pleaded with him not to ruin the moment.

She tilted her head and tugged at the soul again, barely acknowledging Rowena in her fascination with the thing. "Can I have it?" she asked, carefully pulling it away from its vessel. Oh, the things she could do with a soul like that. A soul that powerful. A small smile crept across her lips at the thought.

He blinked.

"...Have it?" he asked. He shifted uncomfortably. Something about his essence felt off, but he couldn't really figure out what the something was. "What do you-"

"What are you doing?" Arthur interrupted. He had the angry leader look on his face right now - that was a rare one in a situation like this. Despite the look on his face, he calmly walked over to her and placed his hand on one of her arms.

One of her other arms grabbed Arthur, holding him firmly where he was, but she didn't otherwise acknowledge him. She released the soul, letting it snap back into the vessel. She folded her hands in her lap - the two she would still have if she was human - and stared at the odd soul, "Can I have it?" she asked again.

Rowenna watched this, frowning. "There are probably more nourishing souls out there." She said softly. She suspected that Arthur had questions for her, given his reaction. "Can you let them go for now and argue over souls later?" She asked. "We are at a party and I, for one, don't want to anger our host and hostess, who are powerful themselves, and they have very powerful allies who are also in attendance."

Now Bettie liked Annie. She was voracious, uncompromising, had an exotic taste in souls. All the best qualities a girl could have. But she was beginning to stay the centre of attention for just a little too long. Honestly, didn't these people know anything about demons?

Bettie chuckled softly. "He's not in danger," she said. "Here's a gal with principles."

Bettie raised her glass, downed it, and then slowly switched the crossing of her legs, in the most distracting way possible.

"If she wasn't, she wouldn't have asked first."