#「 ⚜ 」 » CORRUPTION. ⋮ ━━ ˗ˏˋ I SAVED MYSELF. ˎˊ˗

[demcnwrought]

@redemptioninterlude (MARCELINE) || liked.

»» ──────ஓ๑⚜๑ஓ ────── «« ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴄᴀꜱᴛ ɪɴᴛᴏ hell wouldn't have been julien's choice of the year a few months back when he was just beginning to discover the truth about his past, about his family. he remembered how meek he had been, how afraid he was of being more shunned than he was when he was a child, his constant fear of rejection that tugged at his bones and kept him awake at night injecting a deeply moralistic view of the world and others through him like a deadly serum. when he was revealed the truth, however, he couldn't sit by in silence, couldn't let his father cling to his sins in an attempt to keep his oldest son tied to him at the hip like he always had been, as another vessel to FEED what he knew was wrong and never have to face his own mistakes. he was grateful he had failed his first attempt to kill his father ; not because he was still currently alive, but if he hadn't been caught, he wouldn't have been able to find his newfound love of this darkness inside of him, to be able to let out his demon side so freely in a way that he had never been able to back in aetheria.

the darkness was his to embrace now, and he welcomed it with open arms.

he passed his mother in the hallway, nodding to her as he followed the corridor to the center of the castle, swinging open the large doors and letting them SLAM behind him as he approached the table. there had been a gathering a few hours prior, the leftover treats scattered across the twelve-foot table. he spotted marceline sitting at the opposite end, plucking at her bass and enjoying one of the finger foods she had likely scavenged for in the rather messy leftovers scattered across the dining cloth. he found a free seat for himself, swinging his legs up onto the table and popping a lamb's eye into his mouth before turning to examine what the other was doing with her instrument. ❝ ... so, you turned an axe into a bass ... tell me how that happened. ❞

[demcnwrought]

( tag dump c: )

[demcnwrought]

»» ──────ஓ๑⚜๑ஓ ────── «« ʜɪꜱ ᴄʜᴇᴡɪɴɢ ꜱʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ as he listened to her. he didn't know marceline to the fullest extent yet, but that familiar twinge of empathy, a side effect of his father's blood, rung deep in his chest as he heard her play. there was almost a deep sense of frustration, of annoyance, perhaps even resentment set within her body language. he was aware of her conflicts with her father, of how she wasn't INTERESTED in ruling the nightosphere, much more interested in indulging in life's pleasures than having responsibility set upon her. julien had been in the same boat himself. thankfully, being banished to the underworld broke those chains and opened the door for further conflict between hell and his original home of aetheria, but to what extent was that his responsibility now? he connected with one side of the prophecy and ran with it. the conflict between the upper and lower realms was not of interest to him. this was his father's mess to clean up, and in the meantime, julien didn't have to worry about messing up, about putting on the ' wrong ' type of image like he did when he was still in aetheria. he could be himself here, and he preferred it to be that way.

❝ well, if you ask me, killing two birds with one stone in terms of keeping the one who tries to hurt you in check is a good tool for distraction when you can't directly hurt or kill them. you keep them on their toes until they can't take it anymore, and then, boom, they're done and your task is over. you're finally free. ❞ the stinging image of his father caused anger to burn through him, almost feeling a FIRE light up underneath his palms. he wondered what other mystical powers his demon blood was hiding, other than acting as a force to counteract everything that came so naturally to the other angels. flight, magic, energy manipulation ... it never showed up in him. not even now.

❝ well, just so you know, i was banished here. daddy's an angel, stayed up in aetheria to protect his secret and destroy my entire world. couldn't give a shit otherwise, ❞ he SCOFFED, popping another lamb's eye into his mouth.

Coming to visit HER FATHER was never one of her favourite activities. At least the old man knew to fuck off for a few hundred years between each attempt to dig his claws back into her... each attempt to convince her to helm the mantle of the Nightosphere usually ending in a messy argument between the two of them. Slamming doors and closing portals! She's had it all with him, tired of the interference of those that never knew the way the politics of it all worked. Demons weren't exactly known for their warm and fuzzies towards their children, and Marceline had been cursed from the jump having been born half mortal. The fact that she'd twisted the odds in her favour had only ever been incidental than anything purposeful in her own quest for power. In fact, there was more distain for the fact than anything else, having been bitten by the vampire king and transferred his now emptied court as she wiped the last of their kind from the rotting surface of this earth had only been an act of bitter contrition on his behalf, and thrust into Marceline's rather unwilling hands...

Who knows? Maybe it would have been A RELIEF to find her end of days. But now she'd never know what that'd be like, and even her own attempts to shed whatever sludge that ran thick within her veins, it never turned out the way she hoped it would, only ever re-releasing that curse. Electricity sparks, and so does her acceptance. Thus...

Her presence here, a stormy boredom clouding here expression as she strummed at her bass, glance flickering upwards when a familiar face comes her way. Julien, Julien, who tried to take a rather impressive run at his father, but failed in the nth hour. Well. What's new. Marceline's BEEN THERE, AND TRIED THAT before, so she could halfway sympathise, even if their parents were almost a necessity to keep thing things tickity boom down there. Claws plucked delicately at the notes within her hands, angling it somewhat at the question offered up. "Oh, yeah. The family battle axe or whatever," that's the casual way of putting it, but she figures, they're of equal ground, vampire queendom or however it'd be put aside. "Dad's gift, and mine to do with what I wanted. I figured what better form of disrespect than to take an instrument of murder and making it an instrument of passion instead? Or is that just some teenaged rebellion bullshit? Whatever. Who cares? It plays the sickest licks, and he hates it, I think it's two birds, one stone. How'd you end up stuck here tonight anyways? I thought you liked terrorising outside of your dad's gaze."

- @demcnwrought