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 Whispers in the Dark, | Amora |
Victor von Doom
 Posted: May 26 2012, 06:32 AM
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[Inaugural Post}

As he sat in the throne room of Doomstadt, Victor parted his hands, palms upturned; his scarred face held skywards, eyelids fluttering over glassy emeralds beneath a head of neatly groomed black hair. It started out as a murmur, called forth from the unseen; then grew and gathered, wound like string, until it erupted to a yell. His chanting descended upon the room like the din of battle. The robe draped from his shoulders swayed as his body rocked. It cascaded down and pooled by his knees on the cold platform above the floor he was so unaware of. The servants were banished to their quarters hours previously; this was not for their eyes.

What Victor wished to bring about had he kept hidden from the world and the people around him. the truth itself hidden even now behind mostly closed eyes. He almost seemed to be at peace, but in truth it, was something closer to chaos. The man had never been more aware that this magic that he practiced was nothing like his mother's magic. This was a muck darker mysticism, one in which the purpose was to invoke greater power for Victor and the ability to wield it properly. The rapid movements of Victor's lips seemed to be effortless, as if that was the only way they should ever move.

Prior to the ceremony, Victor had gathered the necessary items; 3 violet candles, 3 black candles, a glass of water, anise, cardamon and coriander incense, jasmine, lemon, rose, and sandalwood oils, cinnamon, frankincense, and myrrh and placed them on an alter made of Latverian oak. Readying himself, Victor breathed deeply and built a mystical ball of protective light around himself. While soaking in a ritual bath, he meditated on the entire ritual. The steps he was to take and what he wished to say to the proper deity or demon when he made contact. The being he would need to achieve greater power.

Victor entered the circle that he'd created using the necessary powders and lit the incense with the oil. He then lit the candles while voicing the incantation.

I am here to make contact with a wielder of infinite magicks,
and to acknowledge him or her.


Victor threw his head back as though speaking to the gods directly.

Here do I light the Lamp of Spirit.
May its light reach out across the barriers
from this dimension to the next.
May it make contact with he
who will bring about great change in me.

Here do I light the Lamp of Power.
May its light also reach out across the barriers
from this world to the next.
May it make contact with that your your dimension
and help spread the light,
illuminating the passageway between our worlds.


Victor spread his arms wider and had turned his attentions ever farther upwards, bared throat having become more visible than his face. His face had never looked younger, nor his being seemed older, then was at that moment.

Here do I light the Lamp of Magicks.
May its light also reach out across the barriers
from this dimension to the next.
May the light from these three lamps blend and grow,
dispelling all darkness and lighting the way
That my Spirit Guide may come to me
and speak with me here today.

Here do I build Truth.
As these candles burn throughout this ritual,
their power generates nothing but truth
In all that transpires between this world and the next.

Through these candles there is truth
In all communications that come to me.


Victor chanted and swayed like a child trying to bring rain, wishing it to pool in his hands and drink it from the skies. His squalling voice rose sharply and broke, being replaced by an electrified silence. He jerked forward like a marionette whose puppeteer had dropped its strings. Finally, Victor's powerful hands met the floor with a jarring slap, and he sank back to sit on his heels.
His eyes opened, un-bothered by the dark tendril of hair laying across his face. The ink colored hair that was normally so orderly was now discordant. The sorcerer took in a breath like it was his first, jaw slack, and looked up. He appeared empty but in need of no bastion.

Victor replaced the censer and gazed, unblinking, into the clear glass of water trying not to picture anything. He kept his mind blank, so whatever was to come would appear of its own free will. Eventually a face appeared. Victor smiled confidently and nodded his head toward the figure that soon coalesced behind the face revealing someone answering his call. "Are you my Spirit Guide?" Victor stood slowly, and gathered his robe around his body as he cont5inued to look towards the figure. "Are you the being able to grant me more power? Or have I wasted my time entirely?
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*Enchantress
 Posted: Jun 3 2012, 02:55 AM
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Cf: your kiss is COSMIC, every move is MAGIC
    One of the important things Amora learned during her travels was that she should keep her friends close and her enemies closer. She could not overlook a person who might later become an enemy with the right display of power and training behind them. Amora was aware of the existence of mutants, but she didn’t feel threatened by them, she didn’t feel threatened by most people. The difference there was she hadn’t met one with enough power in their scope to rattle her cage. Fellow Asgardians didn’t worry her either; the ones she did concern herself with were magical practitioners. Not even a being with such hostility, a beast known as The Hulk, one broadcast on the news, one bringing terror to some of those in Midgard didn’t worry her. It wasn’t her ego talking-however high that was-but the skill behind her training that allowed her to know full well fear wasn’t a thing to worry about. She was not stupid enough to consider nobody a thread, she had eyed up some and kept her watch on them, woven her life into theirs to ensure later on she might have a better chance as siding with them than fighting against them. Amora had no intention to help someone learn more and use it against her later; she had enough experience doing that to her own mentors and being betrayed by Karnilla and tossed aside.

    Wanda Maximoff, that was one such being who she had located, had picked up on the magical side of her, that demonic empowered part of her that warped her abilities, changed her into a magic user. Keeping her distance for the most part she did meet up with her during her travels to the Midgard, she had befriended her as part of her future plan. Should that mutant, that magic user advance I skill and become a risk later on she would have befriended her, she would not have a fight on her hands. Amora thought ahead, she did not want to help someone progress, not if they would be a risk to her later, but she wanted to keep them onside. It was about survival, Amora took it upon herself to ensure she was in as little danger as she could be. It had been the same with Loki, finding him alive, tracking him down and befriending him, showing him support to get him on side too. He knew Wanda, she didn’t even need to read his mind to know he knew her, she’d sensed Wanda’s magic use in New York City, and she’d sensed Loki’s use moments later. There was no such thing as coincidence where magic was concerned and she did poke his mind and pluck up the image of that young woman to confirm her belief he’d played clean up on her chaos.

    It was neither Loki nor Wanda she was dealing with at this moment, a moment when she had been watching people moving about in New York. Amora had sat in a museum watching a group of people admiring the history, something she had a firsthand experience with. She wasn’t sitting there for her amusement with the historical items; she was studying one of the people there, a group touring the facility, one of the teachers. A professor at a college giving a lecture on history, one who she was poking into the mind of, reading his thoughts which told her he had an ability. Her mind jumped about in his own, surfed through the thoughts and memories to see if he knew other threats in this world, ones far superior to his own cheap parlor trick. Apparently he knew nobody else, he was alone in his ability, but Amora was not alone as she sat on her bench. Her legs were crossed, a pair of black pants covered them and she had a pair of black heeled boots tucked over the ends. She had a purple top on, lace straps over her shoulder that met behind her neck forming a cross pattern down her back. A black strip passed over her chest and some silver markings over her torso. Amora had seen the outfit on a celebrity on this television object and copied the illusion over herself to walk about in public. The winds picked up around her as she sat, the leaves tickled her cheek as they blew past her and some soft words echoed in the breeze, carried into the wind.

    May the light from these three lamps blend and grow, dispelling all darkness and lighting the way That my Spirit Guide may come to me and speak with me here today.

    Her brow arched, her lips curved as she tilted her head a moment hearing the echoing voice through the winds, a voice trying to summon somebody. It called to her, it gave her the chance to follow it or banish it away. After a couple of minutes to consider it she got up from the bench and peeked around checking nobody was looking before her body vanished leaving the winds and little glistening particles twisting around the former location she stood in. Following the pathway of the voice she accepted the call; she followed it to its residing spot in front of a male on the floor, candles, incense, all the signs of a Wiccan or Pagan ritual. Amora had been around enough to see these; she’d done some of those types of rituals herself for certain magical tricks. The male had been calling on the four elements, he’d been chanting and calling for someone to speak to and here she stood, in front of him looking over the scene. Amora had hardly been called a Spirit Guide before, though she had done some guiding to those around her, technically it could label her as a Spirit Guide. “You might say that” she looked him over, her arms to the side, she did not fold them, that was a defensive sign and she didn’t feel the need to be defensive. “Is that your desire?” she paused. “What would you give for the aid of my enchanting might…Victor?” she pulled his name from his mind, a quick poke never hurt anybody.

[ There, let me know if you need tweaking at the ending ]

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Victor von Doom
 Posted: Jun 5 2012, 07:32 PM
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Doomstadt, the stronghold of Victor Von Doom and the Capitol Building of the Nation of Latveria. It stood strong and proud, despite having been rebuilt repeatedly due to attacks by invading armies, demons and the occasional mishap of science and/or sorcery. The mountains around it, the very lands, were green and lush, like something from a story book tale. But it was not in the lavish countryside that Victor chose to stage his mystical ceremony. Nor was it in the dark dungeons of Doomstadt. The chosen location was in Victor's own private meditation chamber. The room was mostly bare save for the altar and dozens of books containing various incantations and spells. Camouflaged on a shelf amongst several bottles and vials filled with colorful liquids and spices was a single wooden box. “What would you give for the aid of my enchanting might…Victor?”

The air became hot in the cloistered chamber of Victor's meditation room, the necessary incense clotting the air. Obviously in tune with all of the intricacies of an invocation, Victor ignored the pungency of the incense as a wisp of its smoke wafted through the air. Victor gently lifted the box from the shelf with both hands. It had been carved from a dark, heavy wood, and was tied shut with a pink-purple length of cloth, which Victor undid as he went to sit on a large wooden chair near a simple marble table in the middle of the room. A single circular ceiling window let in a column of moonlight just wide enough to encircle Victor where he sat. The woman before him seemed to wish to remain in the shadows. Victor sighed quietly in response as he contemplated the woman's query.

Out of the box Victor retrieve a deck of Tarot cards, thick, scalloped rectangles of pasteboard, stenciled and painted by hand. Victor focused as he settled the ancient Tarot Deck splaying the thick, oily cards on the thin, sable cloth covering the solid, claw-foot table at which he sat. There was an occasional spark from the tallow candles lit about the room, the sizzle of incense smuggled in from the four corners of the altar near the scrying circle. Victor shuffled the deck, almost oblivious the presence of the being in the shadows, only glancing at her briefly as he drew the first card. THE CHARIOT was written across the bottom of the card. Above that was a woman of divine appearance wearing plain blue robes and sitting with her hands in her lap. “Well, obviously,” Victor said to himself. He'd interpreted the card as one of secrets, more specifically, secrets being kept by the being that had answered his summons.

Victor reached for another card as he replied to the woman. "While I doubt that earthly treasures would be of interest...I have that in abundance. However.. I think perhaps a better question is...how can I help you?" His eyes darted over the cards spread before him, Victor moved his hand to the next draw, his nimble fingers tapping the intricate imagery on the back before flipping the Tarot. Victor stared at the card, a beautiful, silver-haired woman seated on a tarnished, golden throne garish and huge. Dark forms writhed in supplication before her as she raised a gilded staff skyward, flames crackling at its tip. The EMPRESS… [color-green]“Of course,”[/color] Victor nodded with a smile placing the card. The man known as Doom bowed his head slightly, as if in agreement, then said, "I've delved deeply into dark magics, forbidden ones... I've dealt with demons, devils and all manner of supernatural species. I am Doom, "Empress". It is in my very nature to dream larger... To seek farther... To grasp more than other men... And, correspondingly so, the Consequences are equally as great. I know, and accept this. So...perhaps you could use the services of such a man, in return."

This post has been edited by Victor von Doom: Jun 15 2012, 12:12 PM
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*Enchantress
 Posted: Jun 21 2012, 03:06 AM
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    People could do the darkest things when left unobserved, that moment a person turned their back and the knife went in. Amora was not leaving herself open to surprises, now when it came to the magical world that she dominated in, a world she wished to continue sitting upon looking down at the lesser beings as they tried their hardest. She answered the call, willingly brought herself here out of curiosity to see who the wielder of the magic was, the figure kneeling there surrounded by the ritualistic methods of channelling he magic. There was no intention to dive in and welcome the figure, or to rudely ignore it either, a fine balance had her ask what he desired as she kept herself at a distance. Nobody was getting the chance to trick this Enchantress and do to her what she’d done to others. He was playing with his cards, trying to find some divine answers, something she didn’t dabble in, she made her own fate, and it didn’t matter if the cards said anything to her. Amora wanted power, enough to rival Odin and knock him off his pedestal, to throw him afar so that she was the superior one, he was the one torn from his home and tossed aside.

    Cards were not power, they were not like power, pure channelled magic through her body as she could do, launching it at those around her to make them fall to their knees. “I need not treasures, not of this Earthly kind” she shook her head. They meant nothing to her, she didn’t need them, if she wanted something she could conjure it up or take it without a problem. A home, a car, these mortal things were not something she needed; she lived where she wanted, she teleported where she needed. There was no need for such primitive forms for the enchantress, primitive for her, yet ironic considering she was raised in a realm where travel was done by horses and lights by candles and flame. It was not primitive, it was glorious, and cars were trivial things she did not need, nobody needed a car really, there were other methods for Asgardians to travel, especially those gifted in magic. “The Empress?…Close enough” she smiled and stepped closer with her hands on her hips waiting for this offer he would make to her. The card was not quite her, but it was close enough out of these mortal toys to link to a figure more reflective of her, close enough to show importance and beauty.

    He listed out his direction, the path into magic he had dipped into, darkness, some of the forbidden, though forbidden to him may not be to her and probably weren’t. There was a lot that differed with these mortal methods to her own, potential she had to learn over the years that could be tapped into. He wanted to grow, he wanted to learn and improve himself, to gain more power and skills like most with the grasp just out of reach. In return for what seemed like answers, a path for him to be put on to gain such skills he was offering his service in return. One might call this type of person an apprentice, learning off a higher power, she had been an apprentice to many and now she was an apprentice to nobody, she was her own master and rightly so. “Would you not take what you gained and then use it against the one who granted such knowledge?” a rightly asked question. He might use it against her and of course he’d say no, anybody would say no, but she wasn’t going to listen to a vocal answer, she was spying into the depth of the male to find the answer he would hide from her.

    Directness had its benefits; a person may say one thing but mean another, so she wasn’t listening to his voice but the inner words he was not going to say. An introduction would be a valuable thing, she would not refer to herself as Empress, and though it was a flattering title she had her name and rather liked its definition. The name that attached to it was more a lovely little description, something she was referred to over years that stuck, something best describing her natural and magical skills, the focus she put onto using people around her. Not just magically, even from a young age she had things about her, quirks that seemed to wrap men around her finger, a gift she put to better use with age. “I am The Enchantress...Amora, and I am not of this realm.”
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Victor von Doom
 Posted: Jun 25 2012, 09:24 PM
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“Would you not take what you gained and then use it against the one who granted such knowledge?” Victor waked confidently up to the Asgardian, unabashedly making direct eye contact, her eyes reminiscent of liquid emerald. "Strange question, coming from a mistress of magic, no? Were it that easy, I would have no need of your services," Victor replied slyly. Over the course of the last decade, von Doom sought and mastered various disciplines both scientific and occult. the key component to the mastery of these regimens anchored by the strength of Victor's mind. His willpower alone being the focal point. Utilizing this ability has kept Victor's mind virtually impenetrable by outside forces. Von Doom instantly detected the sense of Amora's attempts to probe his psyche in search of some sense of truth within the man. while usually in contempt of such invasion, Victor allowed the immortal to seek what information she deemed necessary. Victor walked over to the North wall of his study, and wove a simple spell causing a window to appear allowing them to see the countryside of Latveria. As the light began to pour into the study breaking the darkness that had held them up until that point, victor mwas finally able to see how beautiful Amora actually was. Her defined Nordic features belied an arrogance that seemed to ooze from her very being.

She was statuesque, standing as as tall as Victor himself. She could easily have passed for a model if she had been encountered in a different environment, but she was definitely dressed in the stately garb of a goddess. Victor turned, stood at the "window" overlooking his kingdom, and began to explain his cause. "This realm is on the threshold of utter chaos and has been for as long as I can remember; social, political, economic and environmental issues that affect us all. Poverty, rampant crime, racism these are the true evils of the world. And I am prepared to save the misguided imbeciles of this world from their own fate...by any means necessary." Turning back to face Amora, Victor once again looked her in the eyes, emphasizing his sincerity, "And I trust that following your invasive probing of my psyche that you will not find my words the mere hollow utterings of a liar."

With a wave of his hand, Victor dismissed his previous conjuration, causing the magically made window to seal itself shut. victor had his convictions and fully believed that he was destined to save the world and its fools from itself. finally, the Enchantress spoke. “I am The Enchantress...Amora, and I am not of this realm.” Victor smirked at the obvious, but kept his comments civil and without sarcasm. "Why, of course you are...Amora was it? That is precisely why I summoned you. There is very little here on Earth concerning the mystic arts, that I can't get on my own. Admittedly there a few arcane magical tomes and grimoires that I covet..., " Victor sauntered regally towards a bookshelf hand clasped behind his back and perused his collection diligently, finally choosing one in particular. Upon pulling the book down slightly, a mechanism clicked causing a sliding panel to fall down in front of the bookshelf with a document attached which was held in place by a panel of glass. the document itself was obviously of ancient origin, as evidenced by its weathered appearance and yellowed coloring. Victor smiled proudly at his display. " For example, a page from the Book of Cagliostro. It is only a matter of time before it, and the rest are in my possession."

Victor paused dramatically as he replaced the book to its former position, allowing the panel to go back into place. "However, it is the otherworldly teachings that I truly require to complete my mastery. My rationale is a simple one. I have foreseen the future, Enchantress. Beyond the meager trappings that are inevitably going to plague the people of this realm, a war is brewing. A war beyond what the earth has seen thus far" Victor proclaimed. "And while the defensive and offensive measures that I have out in place for my beloved Latveria are most formidable. I will not see Latveria on the losing end of a battle of apocalyptic heights. This planet is doomed...unless someone with the strength and raw power to contest it comes forth. I am the intervention. My destiny is to usher in a New world order, even if by force of hand."
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*Enchantress
 Posted: Jul 13 2012, 02:07 AM
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[ see…. I got to it lol sorry for wait ily ]
    What a person could do now and what they might do with future knowledge and skill was something altogether different. He needed a tutor now otherwise he’d be capable of that which he needed, yet once he had his skills he might decide he no longer needed her and toss her aside like a rag-doll. Amora didn’t repeat that though she thought it seeing as how she had partially done it herself but not out of desire to overthrow her tutor, but the response to the negativity thrown towards her. It had not been nice to feel rejected, told that certain things about her character were no longer acceptable and she had to change or go-preferably go. Amora was cast aside enough in her life to refuse to stand up for herself again and so she had, startling her mentor with how she was no longer the easy pretty prey to toss aside quite so easily again. It gave her a confidence boost, she knew what she was capable of and how she’d stood her ground against a right badass magic user and not lost the battle. That was something that she needed, a confidence so she knew exactly what she was capable of and what she wasn’t, a push in the right direction.

    The intelligence and experience behind her told her one thing-she wouldn’t fully train a single person so that nobody would overthrow her. Handing them the knife to stab her with was ironic and rude, a trap she’d not fall into. She kept her eyes narrowed as she took in how he spoke and what he said about this realm and the people inside it. Conjurations were but a platform for her and she didn’t give it much of a glance or lose her focus on the man and his mind-just the upper reaches. He knew it, he said as much but she would never apologize for doing such a thing, apologizing was beneath her and she’d not feel sorry for probing to check on his status. It wasn’t like she was diving deep within his consciousness and pulling out vital and personal memories or altering his mind. “Many speak their words but do not share the meaning behind them. I would not be so naïve to accept one’s words so easily” she shook her head. That was the closest a person would get to explaining why she did it and not really verging on an apology.

    She did it; she didn’t deny it or apologize for it. She probed because people could not be trusted on face value and she wasn’t stupid enough to just accept what a person told her when she knew people lied-she was an example of that. Introducing herself was the next stage of this little conversation. He might not know which realm she was from but knew she wasn’t Earthly born because he wasn’t looking for that sort of person. “Then I should covet them with caution, there are those who would no doubt wish to re-acquire them” her left brow twitched up looking as he examined his bookshelf and brought a sliding panel down to reveal one such hidden object of his cherishing. She stepped closer to look over it, there was no concern for her safety, she wasn’t a woman of fear of her life when she could heal over from injuries mortals could try to inflict upon her. “Foolish mortals losing their own scriptures...” she chuckled at the thought of how careless the former owner would have been to lose such a valuable Earth treasure.

    Speaking of war just had her laugh, the amount of times there had been wars around this world and that of others. War was not new to her and she only laughed because of how he said it was brewing…it had been that way for centuries. Earthly wars did not compare to those seen of Jotunheim and Asgard, so if these wars were of the mortal kind they were trivial in comparison. “I have lived through many that would make mortal affairs look like child’s play” she sighed and stretched her arms out to the side. “So you wish to protect this realm or control it?” not that it mattered to her but he sounded fond of this Latveria but at the same time expressed a desire for control for the other parts of the realm. Amora did not ask about the war he claimed to have seen, she didn’t need to because if she wanted to know more she would find it out so there was no point having him say more than he had to. Stepping in front of him she smirked and trailed her index finger tip over his shoulder. "I might be able to teach you a few things"
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Victor von Doom
 Posted: Jul 16 2012, 10:12 PM
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As though seemingly oblivious to her presence, Victor walked towards corner of the room and dropped his robe as he opened a wooden wardrobe.The solitary mahogany cabinet was delicately aged and of obvious handmade construction. The hinges creaked wearily in the silence of the room creating an almost comforting end to the quiet and solitude of the atmosphere. Even in the semi-seclusion provided by the lack of light in the chamber, years of rigid physical conditioning was evident in the powerful sinewy musculature of Victor's body. As he stood unabashedly nude facing away from Amora, the little ambiance afforded to the room something made of what appeared to be a metallic substance glinted over his shoulder within the wardrobe. Victor removed each component what turned out to be a suit of Titanium armor carefully as he placed each piece on. The armor when he had completely assembled it, covered every part of his body. The connecting points of each individual armor part were fully visible, giving it a mechanical yet functional appearance, although it appeared very medieval in design. He also clothed himself with a piece of green fabric as a tunic on top of the armor. This tunic was held in place by a thick, brown leather belt with a yellow stopper piece. The majestic look was enhanced by a large, dark green cape, complete with a hood and two yellow, round cape-holder pieces. Due to the armor Victor's height rose imposingly over Amora to six feet seven inches. He turned and strode confidently towards her as he gathered up the excess length of his cape and tossed it over his left arm.

"I might be able to teach you a few things" His eyes moved over her figure as if he were considering just how serious her proposal was. The provocative connotations of her suggestion paired was paired magnetically with the flirtatious nature of her mannerisms and the glint in her eyes. Victor defiantly leaned in so closely to Amora, that he could feel the warmth of her skin against his cheek. Placing his lips dangerously close to her ear, Victor sent a breeze, a whisper of power across her skin as he called her name quietly. ""Amora...", the whispery bravado in voice still retaining its masculine tone. "You have a brazen quality about you that is almost intoxicating," he said said with a distinct bravado in him timbre.

Although unaware of their presence on Earth, Victor had been made well aware of Asgardian mythology. The stories and legends of the fabled Gods and Goddesses had been spun as bedtime stories since his childhood. As a practitioner of the Mystic Arts, he had made himself well versed in their proficiency of Asgardian Magic from the lore that preceded them including that of Karnilla Queen of Norns, and of course, Amora the Enchantress. The necessity of greater power and the ability to wield it was no mere frivolity or wantoness. Still, power is an aphrodisiac. There was no denying it and Victor von Doom was more than aware that he was susceptible to it as fit his needs. But it had to be real power. " I require your...services, yes. However, I have little patience for small talk, Amora," Victor revealed seductively. "“But if you are agreeable to adding something more tangible than your allure to this arrangement, I think something could be worked out between us" Victor pulled away demonstratively but remained within mere inches of her face as he peered deeply into her eyes. "Thus, the question returns to you...for this favor, what is it that you want?”
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