There was nothing in this conversation that Abaddon could constitute as friendly even though little physical menaces were not apparent. The obsidian brute could feel the burning within him as he felt through the tension between him and this blood-red fae, wondering when he was able to be the one that handed out the sharp tongue. The games that she played with him were like the two dancing tango and this he enjoyed, but more often than not he preferred to the one wearing the trousers. A little coarse smile ripped through his darkened velveteens as he imagined the tables turned. The ideas ran through his mind and thus he paid little attention to what was going on around him, even his pools giving that little glazed expression as he imagined all these horrendous things. To Abaddon, however, it felt like paradise.

But that did little to deter his aquaintance from continuing in her baying for his blood as she continued to play the game. This snapped him out of his trance. The glazing over his fiery pools subsided and his lobes pricked in the direction of her words, the surprise written over his skull at her lastest sentence,
"You think me intelligent? Do I take this as a compliment?" The dark humour in his tone was enough to show that she was not going to hurt him by words, and he reciprocated the favour by replying with an equal amount of humorous tone, "Perhaps you too are more intelligent than your looks let on." He wondered just how pissed off this creature would be by his comment on her looks, after all, isn't that all females cared about?

The distance between them had not reduced whatsoever but Abaddon didn't feel like he minded. He did not want to be too close to the dame, even if she was sort of attractive. Abaddon had eyes for nothing (well, at least that he knew of) but the chaos that his heart sought. And for this the distance was not a problem for him, yet he did decide that his pillars needed stretching and thus went about moving them in different directions with the feathers flicking up as he did so to be rid of the cramp that was starting to become apparent. She continued to speak and he simply had no care for what she wanted to talk about, which in this case was her trying to take his position. What position? Abaddon's tone grew dark as he grew tired of the fae trying to be more than she evidently was, "I have no desire to draw blood today, and I need no position." His words were abrupt and rather strenuous in saying.

His previous words on the matter of gods and kings seemed to chip that armour of the darkened fae, her words evidently giving the impression that she was now more interested in hearing what she had to say rather than addressing the problems she had with them. He had imagined her to bully her way into defying his words, but instead showing submission. He let his shoulders slightly relax before continuing to speak, with his pools still resting on her charcoal tassles as he spoke, "I carry the Gods of my people, the ones that you seek under the heated ground. The devils," he paused for the dramatical effect, knowing that only his little demon happily succumbed to their powers and knowing that the rest of Helovia's good and graceful abhorred the thought of demons, "We assist one another, they saved me and in turn I continue to give them my gratitude and my soul." His words were like a bite into the chest, the tone sinister as it grew towards the finale of the sentence. Just how the fae would react to the fact that she was in the presence of a demon-worshipper was only slightly predictable. And she continued her weakened boughts of fighting against him. He had little humour when it came to attractions and he answered her in the same enthusiasm he had for being here with her, "I like the feminine type of course, men do little for me." His short blunt words gave her little to play with, he thought. He just wanted to be away from the interaction of everything.

[OOC: Sorry it seems so stunted! My muse isn't flowing well today :c ]

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