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Apologies in advance if my drafts have been slow and my activity hasn't been there. I've been kind of worn out this week and today I don't feel well. I'll try to pick things back up this weekend. Thanks for understanding.

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For the get something off my chest meme: I dunno if it's supposed to be a secret or if everyone else is jus' too polite to say anythin' to ya about it...but I know who ya are. It took me a while, because I always figured 'nah, there's no way he'd see Phel as often as he does an' say nothin'.' I figured even you couldn' be that cruel, watchin' him suffa like that. But I'm confident that I'm right about this, an' I'm not gonna let ya sneak past without confrontin' ya anymore. You're Phel's fatha, an' ya left him to struggle with no memory or idea of what's goin' on. You're a loathesome bein' who hides behind ya vast knowledge to conceal the fact ya have no idea how to treat people, an' ya sneer an' look down on things jus' 'cause ya are too prideful to admit ya have no idea whatcha doin'. I find ya to be one of the lowest of low down here, an' only pity is keepin' ya from bein' outright hated by me.

@copaceticjillybean

Get it off your chest. Send my muse an anonymous confession that's been bothering yours for a long time. I can't say anything...only publish.

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Get it off your chest. Send my muse an anonymous confession that's been bothering yours for a long time. I can't say anything...only publish.

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The old duke let out a long heavy sigh. Heart to heart conversations weren't always something he did, and commonly he had his grimoire to guide him and give him exactly the right thing to say to improve the situation. Even now it lay open at his table for reference on what was going to be said very soon. Out of habit, he glanced at it.

It was one thing to say it- it was another know it and mean it. "I did not ever speak much with the boy, you know that as well as I. His mother would send me letters about his progress and I would give predictions back. His path was set far more strictly than the rest of you- especially knowing that this would happen. But he needed those feelings to be tempered and strengthened for when it would. They were going to be all he had left."

He let that stew in the silence for a moment before continuing. He opened a drawer and pulled out a stack of papers bound together and placed them on a sigil that appeared floating in front of him. They drifted over to Thea like a serving tray.

"She told me he felt he didn't deserve you and tried to force himself to be stronger, smarter, more regal- He poured himself into his studies. These are her letters to me over the years of his training. That drive is still there; the idea that he must earn his place. He no longer remembers why, but this is also an opportunity for the two of you to reconnect without the expectations and doubt he put upon himself."

Thea nodded, sad but mostly for Phel. That he'd have this life he lived hanging over him without the actual memories to go with it. "I always thought that something was holding him back... we just... we work so well. I'm not stupid to the way love is to work and everything is right on paper and in practice but it was like he just ... couldn't bring himself to." And she was seeing it again, not that she expected him to love her, not yet. Not ever. But he was struggling with connecting to her. She could feel it, he couldn't even quite seem to be the friend she had known, but- she could see he was still in there. That he wanted to be by nature. Or she hoped at least.

"I'm trying not to... I'm trying to keep him comfortable but to... also not just fade into being an... an... I don't, animate doll doing whatever he thinks he's supposed to. I was trying that before too but he was so caught up..." She chuckled, though it wasn't mirthful, it was... sad. For the man she knew deserved a brighter life but seemed too caught up in the should's, the would's and the words.

She liked secrets. But her favorite one, was you could do whatever you wanted. She followed protocol and tradition to most folk's faces... but she started a coffee shop, as a goetian princess. She didn't really mind making her own path too.

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Send me one RED FLAG and one GREEN FLAG for my muse.

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Gusion gave a severe stare through the explanation. So that was why the grimoire had him send that letter. A new Ring? Heresy? The documents were a second-hand concern at this point but he could see at a glance they properly bore Vine's seal and he did know of this part of the conversation. Now to recall the rest.

Already knowing what he was going to say didn't make it any less disturbing. "I did not know, in fact." He admits. "Vine's actions at current are outside the sight of my grimoire."

He hoisted himself to his feet and swept a talon outward, forming his grimoire out of a sigil that appeared in it. He flared it open and the pages spread out all over the room filled with prophecy, history, and current dealings alike- writing and rewriting themselves constantly. With another broad gesture the pages rebound and landed on a large passage which he began reading feverishly. His already ashen face turned pale.

"No...."

He spun around immediately, first his head, then the rest of him. He wanted to ask Rakesh what else he knew, to demand what Vine was hiding from his sight. But now wasn't the time.

The page stood tauntingly open as it floated.

There is nothing Gusion can do to address this situation as it unfolds and knowing any further details will not avail him. He will resolve to finish his meal and confront Vine later.

He sits back down in a defeated slump and forces down a bite of food before turning back to Rakesh with a concerned look. "That... does not happen often. Tell me, did Vine ever explain to you how seeing the future works?"

The feline demon smiled in amusement at his friend's punctuality and preparation.

Never a surprise with Guison.

And that had good and bad sides.

"Three motivations, mere dost (my friend). The first one, was to simply enjoy your company and visit you.

The second, as you know, is bureaucratic. Vine has recently appointed me Regent of the town of Witchholm until she will be done with her...work. The construction of the Ring of Heresy is progressing well."

Rakesh sat in one of the chairs in front of Guison's desk.

He pulled out some documents and showed them to him:

I, Queen Vine of the Ars Goetia, Queen of the Circle of Witchholm and all accompanying territories, Ruler of the Emerald Tower, hereby establish Prince Rakesh Amar Rajput as Regent. From this day on, all royal duties, tax income, and official business shall be done in his hand, in his name.

"As you can see, everything is perfectly legal. There is the seal of Vine stamped at the end of the page."

The Maharaja leaned against the backrest, waiting for the Grand Duke to analyze the documents.

"You, of course, already knew about all this, but I am concerned that both His Majesty King Lucifer and Emperor Paimon may not be aware of it. I suppose they are too busy.

So I was wondering if you could do me the favor of warning them yourself, since your work and position are held in high regard. Let them know that Witchholm and its inhabitants are under control and won't be causing any trouble."

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Phel and Gusion's Wall of Text

Here is the wall of text for both of my Hellaverse blogs for all your owl badgering needs!

Duedephelon @keeperofquestions

Gusion @keeperofanswers

Please tag your blog/portrayal, especially if you play a canon character.

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Go on anon and be my muses' secret admirer.

Give them rose,🌹 but leave a small hint as to who you could be

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Gusion shook his head slightly before pinching his beak. "I wrote that because the grimoire predicted I would. Why was robbed from the prophecy. You masking your presence, no doubt. But you know as well as I when fate dictates something simply must be done." He scoffs. "But if you wish to call that show of a letter to placate your brother a mistake, then so be it."

He watched the illusions and flashes while she continued her diatribe. It was almost heartbreaking to see her spiral like this. For now he didn't want to address her criticisms of his lack of ambition regarding the future. She was right, oftentimes he chose limited application of prophecy. He didn't want that level of omniscience- to render himself even more cast off to fate's whims than he already was. Sometimes he pitied Vine and the fact she wasn't able to close herself off from this as easily as he could. All he had to do was close the book.

If she has seen as far as she had, and he had no reason to doubt that, then the queen knew full well why he didn't delve deeper into the whims of fate any further than he needed to.

They both knew he wouldn't be around forever.

Vine was normally prideful and oftentimes rightly so but now she seemed to delve straight into megalomania in her newfound power.

This wasn't the Vine he knew.

"All those eons a distraction?" He challenged, motioning to the showcase of memories around them. Pages flowed and fluttered around Gusion as he hovered there, still defiantly meeting her gaze. "Are you telling that to me or to yourself? How long have we been doing this, Vine? How many millennia have we spent studying the fates and the threads of time? If you want to call it a distraction fine, but I wont'! I left you alone because I trust you, dammit!"

Vine rolled her eyes. Either he's chosen to be forgetful, or he's chosen to lie. Either way, he was asking for trouble.

At that moment, a piece of paper came floating on the wind. One of Vine's hands caught it handily, and the ink on it's paper started to shift and change. It was not the same letter....but it bore a striking resemblance to-

"You wrote to my brother, assuring him of your loyalties." She reminded. "More or less covering your ass in case he accused you of collaborating with me. Denying any friendship, and in the process, denying all our tender years together."

Of course she knew he wrote him. She had seen it coming. Why else would this moment feel so sweet?

"Don't act too befuddled my dear." She smiled wickedly. "You were an amusing distraction for a time." And her magic cast memories of the two of them. "But you never saw the future much further than your nose. I've seen all you've done and will do. And while I had some hopes for you as a seer....you've done nothing but let me down."

Her head tilted with superiority.

"You're an excellent Goetia. But you fail to be even a half-decent demon."

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Go on anon and be my muses' secret admirer.

Give them rose,🌹 but leave a small hint as to who you could be

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What is th3 circumference of your head?

"Fifty-nine centimeters. You had one question you could ask from all of time and possibility and this is what you use it on..."

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Grandpa, I want worms! Do you have worms?

"Please go to the reference desk on the first floor and they will tell you where books on worms are, and I have no grandchildren yet."

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Do you file your talons? Do they ever become ingrown? Is that possible?

"Yes. Unfortunately it does happen. I try to keep my hygiene fairly seriously."

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How Well Do You Know Duke Gusion?

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Gusion kept a steady look on Caim. There was a bit of understanding in his ancient gaze, but also one that spoke of someone who simply already knew far too much- had seen far too much.

"I do not like to bear regrets." He looked at the book and considered the title. The way these tomes were arranged were bizarre and esoteric, but they did follow a pattern of choices in a web. Not even he fully understood the arrangement and it was only due to his grimoire that he could navigate this hallway he, himself, created. However, by virtue of it existing at all- it must. He whispered under his breath when she opened the book.

"Are you certain you are prepared to face yours?"

As he spoke, Caim's eyes locked in on a row of books halfway up from the floor. Those must have been the ones he was talking about, and sure enough, as she pulled the closest one off the shelf, Caim was right.

Before opening the book, the former goetia looked to the duke. "You haven't? Not even once?" She should be surprised; someone as knowledgeable as him knew the risks, and she figured he knew nothing of value would be gained by dwelling on what could have been.

She couldn't help but feel foolish for pressuring him into agreeing to this.

Looking back to the book in her talons, Caim took a deep breath before opening it.