Chapter 48 - Obvious Choice

  When he’d stepped out into the living-room of his apartment, Uril’raya had been disappointed to see it empty. Alex and the others had already left before he’d even woken up. He’d heard Alex say that they had somewhere to be before the sunrise bell, but he’d still hoped. The goat went through the motions of his morning routine, making himself presentable, desirable, tempting. He might have satisfied the letter of Gravitas’s request of him, but an incubus still has to eat and pay rent. At least for a demon like him, his ‘meals’ often paid him, rather than the other way around.

  Unlike some who ‘work the corners’, Uril doesn’t wait for the twilight hours to ply his trade. He has no shame in who he is, or what he does. Quite the opposite in fact. He revels in it. Every furtive glance his way, every lascivious leer, every spike in pulse from his notice, it’s all compliment and praise to him. And every time he sparks someone’s lust, he’s able to nibble just a bit of sustenance from the edges of their soul. The amount is so insignificant that the ‘damage’ is restored essentially immediately. And for him it’s more akin to catching a whiff of a delicious scent. Just enough to make him hungrier.

  Uril walks a route that his hooved feet could follow in his sleep. For the mornings, there’s a series of coffee-shops he enjoys dipping into. Usually each one will have at least one patron who’ll slip him a coin to warm a lap, let them cop a feel, or sometimes even set them up for a very ‘good-morning’. Though that last one cost a bit more than a single coin. This morning is no different.

  In one of his favorite little shops, Uril sits with a pretty woman. He’s sipping a coffee that she’d paid for while listening to her complain about her husband that stood her up for their morning breakfast-date.

  “He’s sweet, he really is, but the guy’s got the memory of a goldfish and an attention-span that could be measured in quarter-inches.” She complains while leaning against Uril’s shoulder. “Not the only thing about him that could be measured that way either.” She mumbles into her drink while her other hand wanders into Uril’s lap.

  The incubus smirks and leans back into her. “Come on, even with his ‘short-comings’,” Uril pauses to snicker, “You married him for a reason, and he treats you well.” He coos, but does nothing to deny her groping hand from finding what it’s after. “You just need a lil something to help fill the gaps.” He nearly purrs out with a wink. He knows she won’t go in for a ‘full-session’, she just needs the validation and to feel like a sexual creature again. But she’ll still pay a bit, and he’s happy to oblige.

  These little interactions are the stock and trade for Uril. Providing what others feel they’re lacking. And each time he nets a few coins and a little nibble to sustain himself. In Hell, a city like New Europa provides plenty of demand for the services he offers, and he’s far from the only demon in that market. However, Uril likes to imagine himself as a cut-above the others. He has standards, a personal code, and he enjoys thinking that they set him apart.

  Being an incubus or a succubus means being a predator of sorts. Sure the Animus can sustain them just fine, but unlike the mortal souls, demons often have other needs that Animus can’t fill. For Uril, that means feeding on the lusts and desires of others. Without it, his spirit would become sluggish and he’d lose the ability to access his magic and abilities. Even using basic intent-movement would become a challenge. Bundling profession and necessity together just seemed like the obvious choice.

  Leaving that coffee-shop, Uril’s coin-purse sits a little heavier and his spirit floats a little lighter. It would take several more ‘snacks’ like that to satisfy his needs, or at least one good ‘meal’. So he continues on his routine, humming happily to himself as his hooves click against the stonework street. It’s a good start to the day, and as the morning turns into afternoon Uril catches himself thinking that it would be all the better if he can catch Alex again before it ends.

  A couple districts over, Alex finds himself thinking much the same. Instead of taking a third package and making another run, Alex had decided to hang out with Jewel and learn more about the operations while helping her. The simple tasks of sweeping up, organizing satchels, and marking completed routes, gives his mind plenty of time to wander. And the trails his thoughts wander down often lead back to the flirtatious goat.

  The inattentive look in Alex’s eye clues Jewel in that something’s on the boy’s mind. “Hey, is me going off on you still bothering you?” She asks, a chagrined smile trying to tug at the corners of her lips.

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  Alex waves away the concern. “No, it’s fine. Just thinking about someone I met yesterday.” He says, uncertain how else to put words to the jumble of feelings and thoughts. “Really, let’s just put that mess behind us. No harm, no foul, right?” He chuckles.

  “Alright, as long as it isn’t my fault that you’ve been picking up the same satchel to check over and over.” She teases, prompting Alex to look down and then blush with a snort as he realizes she’s right.

  He sets the bag down and purposely takes a step to the side so that it’s not right in front of him anymore. “Guess my mind’s been wandering more than I thought.” The blush coloring his cheeks doesn’t get any softer with the admission.

  Jewel leans on the broom she’d been using. “Tell ya what, it’s like Dale said, a slower day. The rest of the routes are gonna be gone as soon as a few of the others get back, and there’s really not much else that needs doing in here. Go ahead and kick off, and tomorrow we’ll see what you can do with a whole day to run.” She says, giving Alex a smirk. “It’s not like your mind’s here anyway.” She teases.

  Alex quirks his brows and looks over. “You sure?” He asks, and Jewel nods. “Thanks. I really appreciate you teaching me today.” He says, stepping over to shake her hand again. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Yup, be here by sunrise bell, as always.” She reminds him, and that’s all the goodbye he needs. Jewel watches him go, chuckling to herself as she sees him and his companions blink away with another intent-movement. “That…” she muses, “is never going to be not weird.”

  The first day on the job hadn’t gone as smoothly as Alex would have liked. It hadn’t gone badly either. Once they’re moving, he voices his thoughts to the others. “Is what I do really that surprising?” He asks, echoing the similar question he’d asked before.

  Hara speaks up first, surprising him a bit. “Hara think Alex is just Alex.” She says, her telepathic voice carrying the rock-solid certainty that only someone like her can hold. All the same, her simplistic reassurance buoys Alex’s confidence.

  Corvus takes a bit longer, only responding after a couple additional jumps. “Any Faded soul would be capable of it, if only they did not allow their spirit to atrophy from the fear of burning their lifespans.” He answers from his position, flying above Alex’s shoulder. “While your overuse of those capabilities did deplete your soul far faster, what you achieved would have been impossible otherwise. You would have reached your end before even arriving in Last to Burn’s territory.”

  Alex lets that sink in for a moment, focusing on the rhythm of step, focus, blur, step. “And me using them more is what? Making my spirit stronger?” He asks, working his way back in the general direction of Uril’s apartment. He hadn’t consciously made the decision, it’s just the way he’d gone when he left. And once he thought about it, he was already moving.

  “Just so.” Corvus answers. “Think of your spirit like an inflated balloon. The more times it empties and refills, the more it stretches.” He explains.

  However, the mental image conjured by that has Alex struggling to keep his focus on maintaining the conjoined intent-movement. The idea of Corvus trying to blow up a balloon with his beak is just too much. Once he regains his composure, Alex picks up the thread again. “And people with Animus never strain their spirit because the Animus provides a different source.” He reasons out, getting confirmation from the crow.

  “Precicely.” Corvus shifts his position so that he can look at Alex’s face while flying. “Most who become Faded adamantly reject using up their time, those who keep Animus never have the cause to train the capability. Your circumstances put you into a prime condition to exercise that capacity.”

  Alex snickers softly. “My circumstances, and a shady bird pushing me.” He says good-naturedly, earning a chuckle from The Guide in turn.

  “Touché.” Corvus responds.

  Hara follows the explanations as best she can. The concepts are a bit difficult for her, but she does grasp the idea of needing to struggle helping to make someone stronger. It’s the basic nature of survival. “Alex have strong soul now. Hara help Alex get even more strong.” She says, determination and joy mixing in her mental voice.

  “For sure.” Alex says, giving her a pat on the head between jumps. Block by block, the city rushes past in a blur. Alex slows the pace as they near the district where Uril lives. Alex doesn’t want to just wait at Uril’s apartment, fearing that would be too presumptuous. Uril hadn’t mentioned him being welcome to come back, so Alex decides to just linger nearby in the hopes of running into the goat again.

  Settling into just walking, Alex looks around, noticing a few familiar buildings. Feeling that he’s in the right area, Alex just joins the flow of foot-traffic, letting the movement of the other pedestrians carry him along.

  For better or worse, Alex doesn’t have to wait long to be noticed. But not by the person he’s hoping for.