ahelluvahigh

[ahelluvahigh]

Daawww. Look how cute and happy and stupid they are. Good for them.

EGGS? EGGSSSSS. the egg bois heard eggs.... it's not about them, but honestly, they feel included. <3

[ahelluvahigh]

The dash: Political upheaval.

The dash: Lol Vox's ass

The dash: Eggs?

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"You know how he gets, baby doll. If we don't pay attention to him, he short-circuits."

"We all know your ass is better."

she can't believe the dash is talking about vox's ass when the vee's best ass is over here.... but alright .

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"Phel?"

Delphine called out as she hopped off of her glider. The announcement had her reeling-- as it seemed to have left many others, and while she could have turned to her parents in the hopes of gaining a better understanding... her immediate reaction to the news was to get as far away from her home as possible.

No sooner had that broadcast ended than had she boarded her glider and rode the wind far from the ninth circle. Where was she headed?

She didn't even know until she had gotten there.

If there was anyone who would understand her sense of uncertainty when it came to such a massive shift in the way Hell was run... it was Duedephelon. He was... probably reeling as much as she was.

It wasn't until she began treading through the halls and heard the sound of shattering glass that she realized... uncertainty was likely downplaying what Duedephelon was feeling.

He was lost. The fact that he was a Goetia seemed to be the one thing he could hang onto as a sense of self, and that... might have been taken away from him.

The Marquess breaks into a run, following the sound-- stopping abruptly when she came to the heap on the floor.

"No, nono-- do not do this to me. Don't you dare--"

She slides into the small crater caused by that sheer outburst of power and kneels down beside the fallen Goetia. He's... quite literally shattered. She can freeze him-- that will keep him from cracking more, but will that break him more internally? If she freezes him, will his heart stop?

"Duedephelon--" she reaches out to touch his shoulder only to quickly withdrawal her hand. If she touches him and he breaks more...

Okay. Breathe. Close your eyes. Regain composure.

"Duedephelon... I need you to... I need you to say something."

Quite the commanding tone considering she could easily crack and fall into icy shards right beside him.

"The implications are immense. I shall need to write this down, but I doubt much will change for a generation already shifting to debutantes and social politics. Though I wonder how the other kings will handle their dissolution. The addressing of current grievances feels like a placation to mask the fact that Hell will not be ruled by an entire noble class but by one man's imperial edict. We must not forget that- the rules are about to change and I suspect not entirely for the better."

Duedephelon took a deep breath and shook his head. "Our titles, our stations, our ambitions, and our power all put to heel in one proclamation. Where does that leave the rest of us? What does being Ars Geotia even mean anymore? What are we? Who are we?"

"Who am I anymore? Who...?"

He turned to the harsh whispers of the sanctum of his castle. Now without purpose beyond the fact of its existence. "I am again as lost as I was the day I awoke... Why should I continue? Toward what aims? What am I without all of this? What? What? What? What? What? What? What? What? What? What? What? What? What? What? What? What? What? What? What!? What!? What!? What!? What!? What!?"

He started to shake as his voice echoed in the existential confusion. Cracks started to form along his feathers.

"What is next? What is left? Why seek the rest? What happens next? Who am I now? WHO!? WHO!? WHO!? WHO!? WHO!? WHO!? WHO!?"

A convulsion.

The sound of shattered glass.

Cracks forming, pieces spraying.

A loud break on the stone floor of the castle as its master collapses on the floor in a broken heap. One eye was fractured like a broken marble and in several other places were breaks and chips like a glass statue had been toppled to the ground.

Questions swirled in his mind while he lay there motionless.

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"Does this impact our stations in any way?"

"No."

"Then cheers to us!"

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"Heh... sorry. Want me t' make it up to ya?" He asks as he rises from the sofa and reaches for his car keys. Whenever there's a big announcement, most big-wigs try to get the fuck out of dodge, and that... leaves their mansions vulnerable to looting.

"Ah well, for the best I suppose. I wasn't going to get my shot at the king any time soon, anyway."

[ahelluvahigh]

"'m gonna go with yes." Does he understand enough about the situation to explain it? No. Does he care? Also no. It sounds like Lucifer gave a lot of power to a guy that kisses his ass. Just like every other person in a position of power ever has.

"Oh no...anyway."

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Chair... couch... something. It's not becoming of her to pace around. If she sits, she'll appear more put together. At least she thinks she will. When she sits down and realizes that she's folded her arms across her chest... she isn't so sure there's anything she can do to look composed. Why was she learning about this at the same time as everyone else?

Why didn't he tell her what was happening?

"... But it was his idea to give you-- well... Gritt-- then you a title. To bridge the gap between..." It was Paimon's idea, and she wanted to show unwavering support. She jumped at the chance to help Patch because she thought it was furthering Paimon's ideals.

The gentle pitter-patter of a small jewel hitting the floor causes her to look down. Shit. Was she crying?

"...Thank you for being honest with me." She says as she brushes the back of her hand underneath her eye.

"... look, Paimon has the royal family and Hell's function at his best interest, but his methods are the problem usually. He almost tore Gritt and Alastor apart, which Alastor believes to be intentional." Patch said, "I worry that sometimes he'll make choices that he knows will get people hurt. Even people he cares about, for the sake of what he sees is the ideal hell for everything to run smoothly."

"I don't know him personally, so maybe I'm reading him wrong. And I know he's your partner. I don't know what he's like off the clock... but I do know he doesn't think much of people like me."

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"Who would'a thought the king's royal dick sucker would be given a shit ton of power."

"Oh no...anyway."

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"Maybe?" She hadn't realized she'd begun pacing until Patch's singular word caused her to stop. "What're you thinking?" Patch reported to Lucifer. He could see this more clearly than she could. If she didn't fixate on the fact that Paimon was surely doing this for the betterment of Hell... then she had to think about the job her father lived for was just torn out from under him. If she saw this from any other perspective than Paimon's own...

--She didn't want to.

"My father's always seen Paimon as the true king of the Goetia, and... supposedly, so have the majority of the houses. So... I doubt this will change much. It's just put to paper now. An... official rule rather than an unspoken one" Where that put them-- where that put everyone else...?

"There must be something on the horizon... something he can see that we can't."

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"My father's always seen Paimon as the true king of the Goetia, and... supposedly, so have the majority of the houses. So... I doubt this will change much. It's just put to paper now. An... official rule rather than an unspoken one" Where that put them-- where that put everyone else...?

"There must be something on the horizon... something he can see that we can't."

"Samesies. Best we keep an eye on it, but keep on working on our current goals." He knew Lucifer was well meaning for his Kingdom... but Paimon came across as someone who wasn't afraid to cross lines.

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"They stopped airing regular programming for this?"

" ugh, no one's cared about monarchies since 1997. where's the real entertainment? "

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"I'm... not... sure what to make of that."

He's not sure what to make of Paimon's announcement. It sounds good on paper... but also gives Paimon much more control than he used to.

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"It is nearly December," she says as she leans down to rest her cheek against the top of his head. "But that's not all that's bothering you, surely." She knows him better than that. It is a good excuse for the desire to huddle under a blanket, but it's not the only reason they're under the blanket-of-pouting.

Just gonna sulk while covering himself with a huge blanket. It's cold in here.

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"I never would have guessed." The marquis muses as he conjures a bottle of gin from his cellar. He's a wine man himself, but considering how hostile the imp seemed to be at... Santa Claus of all people, Andrealphus felt the need to come up with something stronger.

"What's on your mind?" He asks as he offers the assassin a glass. "You're usually so much more composed."

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Strikers anger subsided and he'd take a deep breath before looking over at Andrealphus.

"Yeah... could do with one right about now."

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keeperofquestions: "If you were wondering why there are fresh spikes on the walls of my castle, this is why."

"A wise choice."

[ahelluvahigh]

"Do you know what Lord Paimon plans on addressing tonight?"

"No. I'm certain it's something he's keeping close to the vest, lest someone come forward with information before he's ready."

"That's... ominous."