NEW SLAVES [FEAT. MINERVA]

The kingpin’s slow strides came to a conclusion in front of a locked glass room, as did his smirking silence. Releasing a chuckle into the air, he liberated a hand from his pocket and graced his palm on the glass room. The material spiritual rippled as if it were a pond, and the waves spread through the entirety of the door. “Why would a pack of wolves eat an elk?” He proposed, forwarding his eyesight towards her with an unorthodox lack of emotion from his grinning lips. His lower limbs lifted, and his very form disappeared into the rippling door.

The room itself would betray what an exterior perspective would see, the dimension leading to the small, yet undoubtedly cozy and elegant conference room. By the time the young pureblood and the secretary entered the room, Ashton would have had his bottom plumped on the wider couch, feet propped up on the table and crossed with relaxation layering his anatomy multiple times over. Spread across the table was an assortment of mints and candies stationed in a wide, Greek bowl, along with multiple magazines of varying topics.

Check.

But no word in those magazines would answer the plethora of questions that were swimming in Minerva’s head. The nameless secretary positioned herself near the wall, as idle as any solider being accosted by a drill sergeant. Ashton, however, gestured his hand towards the neighboring seats that practically called for one to rejoice in their endless comfort. His devious smile remained a constant, while the still of his lips would not.

“This has everything to do with you, Minerva Alanis.”

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The curvature of the soul reaper’s lips took a dynamic influence, and yet another deep chuckle seemed to drift out of his throat. Her inability to understand and decipher simple analogies was cute, in a way. The more mental tenderness she exhibited, the greater profit she became. Prospects like her were a regularity to be praised. And they required a deft touch and a tactful tongue to become most fruitful, a peak that Ashton would see her reach, if only to further his own goals. Ashton’s golden eyes beamed upon the seated female like a red dot, and a delicious mesh of harmony and affection radiated off his lazed pupils.

“You would be surprised how much money you’d get from saving lives.” The details of which would not escape his smile, for they would not only digress from the goal but invoke unease within both of the women occupying the room. “You, sweetheart, are here because you’re going to be given the chance to learn about your real culture and help me keep you and other Echt families safe.” While his words were sweet, the commanding edge that lingered in his syllables could have daunted the fiercest knight.

While the male’s fingers lethargically rose and waved to dismiss the idle and rather flushed secretary, his eyes would fail to leave the young woman before him. They were going to be given the upmost privacy as they got to know each other. His primary arm reached forward and grasped a thin, black television remote before resting a singular inquiry in the air betwixt them.

Check.

“Have you ever heard of the Le'Valiér incident?”

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“You only know what your mother has told you, Minerva. But I…know too much.” As his emotionless syllables navigated into the young pureblood’s ears, his devilish smile would gradually begin to fade away, as did his eye contact. With a click of the device in his fingertips, the luxurious flat screen television to their left would whizz on and commence playing footage. On the motion picture display, the two would see a three-minute recording of the Alanis parents walking out of a grocery store hand-in-hand in love, with a few bags of items. As the footage would go on, they would both witness a collective of Quincy fire a multitude holy arrows at the couple from a rooftop, and eventuate to a gruesome injury of their legs.

As the video continued to play, the redhead would open his lips and foreshadow the event, “This conflict started with an Echt family, the Le'Valiér. They see the Gemischt as a plague to the Quincy, and they plan to wipe every single one of them out.” Ashton’s head shook in disgrace as his eyelids dimmed, taking a momentarily drought of silence. The video, however, would display the offending group of Quincy tie up Minerva’s innocent parents, and carry them off the scene before any bystanders could take notice. “Of course, the Vatican won’t stand for this unnecessary violence against their own kin.” Ashton’s eyes angled from the T.V. from the female before him, a sympathy lurking in the depths of his optics as he examined the emotions she may or may not have exhibited.

Check...

“They’re going to blame all of their murders on you and your family. You would have been dead if I didn’t come to get you.” The camera recording on the screen would playback endlessly, leaving the plentitude of her inquiries to sprout interpretations.

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Checkmate.

Every single molecule of vulnerability the recording invoked in her person was delicious, especially the marginal amount of liquid amassing within her eyelids. The care she wielded for her family had already been exposed before she even came in contact with the kingpin, but the sensitive emotions she exhibited was nothing less than exquisite. But it was all the same an unnecessary detail that would not go displayed in his visage. While butterflies of excitement broke from their cocoon within his stomach, his eyes retained their sympathetic look. He understood her pain, and he was here to help her, but an outburst would not be tolerated.

“Bakudō # 1. Sai.” The name of the binding technique escaped his lips in a swift, yet ultimately unemotional manner, and the very second untamed emotion generated a rise in posture from the woman, his forefinger and middle finger were lifted from the remote and poised in her direction. While his control of demon arts was lackluster, the spiritual technique should have undoubtedly halted her movement before she had a chance to pounce. It was a shame; really, he was just about to recommend she taste one of the chocolates assimilated within the bowl.

“I’m sorry, Minerva.” He paused the camera recording, dropping the remote while he focused the entirety of his attention upon the distressed young lady before him. “The Le'Valiér family has them.” He softly paraphrased his reiteration, taking another pause. “However, we do have a lead on their location.” He left the simple, powerful seed in the bowels of her membrane before allowing her the pleasure of speech. Her despair was an accumulating fog that palpably invaded the atmosphere of the room, and Ashton rejoiced in it; it was marvelous. But it was most profitable she remained ignorant of that fact.

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The mere fact that he regulated her movement sent pangs of sadism through the soul reaper’s anatomy. His guest, however, suffered of the antithesis. She was no different from anyone in the case that she detested the thought of being unable to act, being powerless to the higher schemes in life; to the protection of her family. The speculation that the whims of his grin could have rectified that misfortune tingled his bones even more, and he consciously found him prohibiting his visage the pleasure of displaying his comforts. Though, she would find some semblance of amnesty in his movements.

Removing his feet from the table, the Shinigami began to appropriate his back to a leaned posture as he tested the length of his wingspan on the back of the couch. She would soon find herself relinquished entirety from any control his binding technique had on her, his grin dissipating while his eyebrow twitched upward in indication of confusion. “It’s not that simple, Minerva.” The leading figure’s head shook as further elucidation to his turbulence. “What makes you think I’m just going to take you on this operation?” He left his emphasis to be interpreted by her mind, what emotion was made manifest was of little care to him.

Whether or not he would be the catalyst for her family’s justice was still a factor to be deciphered.

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The cryptic soul reaper’s eyes thoroughly investigated the emotions that flooded through the young girl, and her newfound ability to mentally circumvent them and articulate clearly. He allowed for the female before him to wholly expose the contents of his mind before continuing himself, chaining a demeaning chuckle from leaving the jail of his throat. The man rose to his feet, leaving his hands comfortably within his pockets as his broad voice shattered the silence that began to flood the room.

“You and I both know that you’re a liability right now, Minerva.” Curiously, his mouth spoke words colder than the atmosphere of the highest mountain, while his eyes conveyed that they comprehended her stress to the tee. It was his duty to assist the innocent, and diminish the multiple dimensions of corruption. The philosophy that lived by was ironic and hypocritical at his core, but it was a constant nonetheless. “I can’t jus—” As fast as his lips opened, both of their ears would notice a halt in his speech, a forceful wave of contemplation washing away his eye contact with her.

Through his unexpected introspection, Ashton found himself pacing to the right while his eyes examined the exquisite piece of Greek art. The spirit’s hand escaped his pockets and curled around his masculine jaw, the soothing motion dissipating the bulk of his perplexity as the seconds went on. “I usually don’t do this so quickly.” With Ashton’s back turned to the pureblood woman, he began to muse audibly, casting his eyes to over his left shoulder after a momentary pause. “Are you willing to change your life in order to save your family, and protect every other Quincy alive?”

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An additional ominous layer swarmed its way onto Ashton’s marginally dimming eyelids, a bout of silence drifting between the two as he stared at her; through her with inexplicable purpose. The hand that contemplatively curled about his chin took its bow, his arms crossing about his chest as he angled his body towards the young woman. A warm solemnness would regulate the pitch of his syllables the moment he opened his mouth, and by extension, his entire visage. “You will join my organization and offer me your loyalty, and in turn I’ll give you the ability to save your parents today, as well as protect them and every single Quincy.”

The man’s chin rose as he looked upon her, the blank line of his lips expanding continuously to explain the magnitude of his imminent offer. “Your job will be simple as my agent, but your life will never be the same.” His feet took a singular pace towards her, allowing bits of his newfangled seriousness to fade into the professional afterlife; a semblance of a smile curving the edges of his lips. Her following answer would either bring enlightenment and purpose to her average life or a ruthless depression that would haunt her for the rest of her existence and beyond.

“Do you accept my offer, Minerva Alanis?”

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