Samil slipped through the doors of the nightclub, straightening his tie and looking around. Tonight he would relax, let himself unwind. Dealing with unruly demons and maniacs all week had left him quite stressed, and his favorite club always helped with that. He made his way to the bar, offering a smile to a few fairly attractive men and women as he walked. He took an empty seat and signaled the bartender, not saying anything. He knew exactly what drink he wanted. Spiced rum. A lot of it.
Ivy slid into a seat and slammed her head on the bar. "Rough week?" Her bartender friend Taylor chuckled, slipping her a whiskey which she downed in one. "That's an understatement. If I don't get something to the landlord by next Friday, I'm done." "Sorry sweetheart."
Samil glanced over at the dark haired girl, but quickly looked back at the crowd of dancers, swirling his drink. He wasn't here to get involved in anybody's financial issues. He was here to have fun, maybe take somebody home. He didn't care who, just as long as it was somebody who could keep things interesting.
"Ives do you think you should-?" "No Taylor. I'm not going back to Olympus. Not if I don't have to." "Come on! It couldn't have been that bad." "Seriously? Who was the pole dancer here? That's right, me."
Samil nearly choked on his drink when he overheard the woman's conversation. Her? A pole dancer? He thought, looking her over once more. I guess it… kind of makes sense. Decent body. Beautiful eyes. I wouldn't mind seeing her onstage. Or in my bed.
"Ivy I hate to recommend the unthinkable but…" Taylor trailed off. It took her a minute but Ivy got it. "Taylor! Are you insane?! I'm not taking a contract with one of those devil's henchmen!" "Ivy I know you don't want to but it might be your only option." "What would I give them anyway?" "The same thing I gave to mine. Body, soul, and mind. They want complete control over you." "That's kinky." "Ivy!" "What? It's true!"
(alrighty)
Samil couldn't help but add to the conversation he was hearing. He was a demon contractor himself, and he certainly didn't want to pass up the opportunity to have full control over such a beautiful human.
"It's not as bad as it seems," he said, looking over the girl. "They might ask for full control, but most demons won't make you do anything too bad. Humans are under contract are like our companions."
Taylor smiled at him, she knew he was a regular. "Hey Samil." "You know him?" "He's a regular." Ivy sighed quietly. "What are you saying? Are you one of those contractors?" She glanced him up and down. "I wouldn't be surprised if you said yes."
"I certainly am. And I'm willing to help me out if you give me something in return," he said, taking a sip of his drink.
"Well that depends on what you want back." She brushed her hair out of her eyes to look at him a bit more clearly.
"Like your friend said. Mind, body, and soul," he explained, moving closer to her. "You give that to me, and I'll fix any problems you might have."
"What's the catch?" She raised an eyebrow at him.
"There is no way to break the contract once you've made it," he said. "Once you've signed, your soul is bound to mine until the contract expires, and there's no way to break free."
"And how long does it take for it to expire?" She knew there had to be a part of this she would be able to instantly deny.
"That part is negotiable. Usually, I start with a week, just to see how tolerable you are. If you're not too bad and you're worth my time, we can make a new contract for a longer period."
She hated herself for considering it. But she was desperate. She sighed heavily. "Well…" "She'll take it." "Taylor!" "What? I know that look, you need it." "…I hate when you're right."
Samil smirked, setting his empty glass down for a refill. Finally, something interesting and fun to relieve my stress. "Perfect," he said, voice low and smooth. "Would you like to set up a contract now, or would you like to get to know me a bit first?"
"Let me get to know the man I'm about to sell my soul to first." She chuckled softly.
"Alright then. Ask me anything," he offered, grabbing his drink and taking a sip.
"What brings you here?" She smiled, sipping her whiskey.
He shrugged, leaning against the counter. "It's been a long week. My job is stressful as hell, no pun intended."
"Yeah, I feel that. A starving artist still has to eat, ya know?" She shrugged. "Long weeks are kind of my thing."
"You're an artist?" he asked, raising a brow. "You create things for a living?"
