A High Price to Pay – SS.

 

The Masquerade ball is over for many, as they flee into the night.  The Princess has bitten off more than she can chew, whilst destruction and chaos rule.

Scene setting : The Masquerade Ball of Greed – Seven Sins series.

Co-written with Zetta, Temp, Moo and Nhal.

 

Zetta:  Blitz held a firm stance after unleashing his telekinetic force manipulation for a wide arc of chaotic volume despite the otherwise groundbreaking focus required. However, such a blast brought conflict of it’s own, without a boost of life energy he was physically impaired. He could take flight to control his own movement, but his hands and feet were still useless for a moment, this was the reason the half-god would avoid using the technique in the midst of a fight. Despite it’s broad range, if it was still somehow dodged he would be left open to anything, for a bit of time. This weakness usually meant nothing to him since the time it would take for an actual response from an opponent after taking the blast was longer than a few seconds. However he had been attacked by an unknown enemy, who had timed their attack to appear immediately after his own. This person was quickly identified as the one who berated Blitz before, and so he was quickly riled up to be halted by this same prince. His only defense was an aura of aether energy only enough to guard his torso, it was condensed so that it would not explode on contact and instead maintain it’s form, the likes of which dissolved the effort of the shadowy hand from a crushing grapple, to a rough squeeze. While being so close to a form lacking a sturdy material presence, he carefully manipulated the small amount of space between them and impregnated the prince with aether. He could have simply pushed the energy inside with his control over it, but this way the ball could not be removed without a similar control over space.

Brought outside by this hold, he turned his head to the ground quickly approaching after he was dropped at the entrance of the castle. He left the aether used in his defensive measure for a counter-attack, focusing only on the created space now within his target. The second he was released, Blitz activated a violent explosion from within, simulating the way he used his white-hole technique. However something like this was much simpler as he was only controlling pre-existing energy. With his strength regained, he tucked his limbs in and recovered quickly from the fall, his bawled up form smashing into the ground making a loud thud. No apparent damage to the ground itself though. By the time he looked up, his attacker was descending onto the ground just a few feet from him, and had already opened his mouth instead of properly defending himself. This was typical of a person who did not often fight, like nobles. To almost no surprise he found the prince to be speaking nonsense, just like before, only now he had directly launched an offense against Blitz. Even worse, he had done so and taken him out of a probably interesting, as well as entertaining fight. A mistake he would learn from before their ensued fight ended. “Idiot.. What sense was there is getting in my way?”

His look narrowed into complete seriousness for a time before he breathed out and smirked, one fist punching into the open palm of another at a realization. There was present life-energy near him and right on his opponent. His knuckles cloaked his hand like an umbrella. Until now he had been in a succession of spars and had not been able to really cut loose, now with his signature having been so close to Blitz he could track him easily and avenge the fight opportunity he just lost. “… Make a habit of slandering Anarchy Division’s name…” His left-hand bawled into a fist and smacked against the open palm of his right-hand. The divine energy within Blitz’ aether had likely already caused an effect to the demon, not to be easily snuffed out by even an arch-demon’s prowess without even mentioning the other forces in tangent. Aside from the various elemental input, there was also the suddenly expanding space to cause concussive damage as well. “And you’ll regret it..”
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

He had gained an approval from Princess Gabriel to properly defend the entirety of their area, but before he could take any stance to do so the assailant who had asked him for support was already snatched elsewhere. While keeping his awareness up he noticed the clicking of shoes as someone approached him. Obviously the only one in the same position as the royal guard, his love came upon him without any sort of hostility – seeming to have calmed down from her annoyed and slightly detested response just a few moments ago. Lady Wrath had come to relieve him surprisingly, place her hand upon his outstretched arm, hot from the contact and sizzling to the bone she touched him still. Upon the offering of her malevolent use of wordplay she revealed her disdain for the situation at hand as well as his own misfortunes, and compliment him at the same time. Cecil was happy to have her praise of course and a deeper part of him relished in her saying he had misbehaved, beckoning to mention that she might do something later. She removed the weight on his hand, the royal guard taking deep breaths to endure the pain. “Thank you, my Lady..” He said, bowing gently in a crouched position.

His head turned to the others once he was assured she was acknowledged, thanked, and safe from harm. Now toward the other princess, in the literal exact opposite position, whoever her aides were they were absent while she had been prodding herself with the blade. She foolishly pressed herself against it, seemingly testing the knight who had apparently finished his killings and was now heading for the door. In the middle of her Kingdom, she just wanted him to go now, his head shook in reference to his own leader who had killed a man and all who stood for him because he dared her. That was just one reason why he loved her, and instead of charging into battle in another’s home, she casually retreated and watched the chaos ensue. This one.. She was no demon ruler, but a coward pulling the right strings. Her burning skin warned everyone around to get a move on.. Something, and then the woman bearing pain spoke again. Shouting out to all that the party was over, as if she still had authority. Disregarding that entirely he turned to his own Lady Wrath once more, this was an opportunity, while the other prince was occupied and no one else strong stood for the now burning woman. “I will only move on your order, princess.” He humbly spoke to her.

 

Nhal:  Stupidity it is then.” Belphegor spoke flatly, his demeanor seeming much sharper and lest tired than it had within the ballroom. Drifting to the side slowly he circled around Blitz, watching him closely as parts of his form began to blow away like mist in the wind. “Naturally you and your little gathering of imbeciles are not welcome to this plane, and sooner or later, whether it is of your own volition or not, you’ll be ejected… Violently if required…” Raising one hand in front of him the Prince of Sloth flexed his fingers in a whirling motion, a small cloud of smoke forming before he waved his hand and the blackness cleared, a long card with the king of hearts stamped across the front was suddenly held between his talons. “However given the current circumstances, I don’t have the time to deal with your childlike pigheadedness.

While more portions of Belphegor began to wisp away portions of grayish-black skin which thinly coated bones began to make themselves visible. In addition his voice became extremely crisp and hollow with certain crackles that made some words hard to distinguish, as if the voice was emanating through an worn old speaker.
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As more and more of the almost skeletal figure below began to emerge, the very presence of Belphegor began to fade away, replaced with a feeling that was far more malicious then the prince’s standard aura. The change in this feeling, while extremely great, would go unnoticed by the patrons inside the ballroom, blocked off by the coating of black crystals along the walls. The side of Belphegor’s face which was out of the sight of Blitz was the next to begin steaming and fading away as he shook his head, and while the face beneath could not be seen, long lines of what appeared to be blood soaked cloth hung below his ghostly visage in plain sight.
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His voice continued to echo as he circled the demi-god, the card still held firmly between his fingers while his other hand sat lazily behind his back. After a full rotation he stopped in his tracks and began to dangle the playing card in front of him with two fingers, speaking almost as if he was lost in his own world.
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Moo;  

Kirsikka had made a long, fine cut in the armor while she hummed to herself. Surely nobody would make it quite this easy; she felt too relaxed in a situation she expected to take three times the effort. All she had to worry about at this point was her hand cramping up from using the small blade. Seriously. The demon’s hand turned after a few inches, beginning to cut away once more. Her Lord never justified just what size he needed the sample to be, but a sample was just that. It would be the size of her hand if she could manage it.

Of course, at this time, the armor finally chose to give her an answer to her question earlier. While it had seemed empty previously, some sort of life was given to it now, as its hand swooped up rather quickly to take hold of her hair. Naturally, Kirsikka was surprised. She even hissed in pain as her hair was held rather roughly between its metallic fingers. However, the sight of the red-gold eyes illuminating behind the visor actually brought a grin to her face well after she’d settled again. “They weren’t insane,” she noted in a chipper tone. Kirsikka laughed lightly, frost moving about her. If it embedded itself on the suit, it wouldn’t be capable of moving its arm. The frost would continue forming and spreading along its torso to the other arm as well, as a precaution. If it had no effect, she would simply evaporate into frost herself and clear the podium, standing a few short feet away instead…even though the distance would be problematic in regards for her task at hand. She never once lifted her hand with the small blade from its torso, unless her frost didn’t take effect on the suit. Though the demon’s free hand did now lift to her ear, crushing the earring she’d been accessorized with by her Lord previously. Bits and pieces fell to her shoulder and where she stood. The shaking and crumbling of dust was of no concern yet. The guard stood dazed the entire time, as if nothing were happening. Kirsikka’s hypnotic spell would wear off soon, but it wouldn’t matter if those statues were about to take him apart for her.


Gabriel ignored the thanks she received from Cecil, instead watching the scene between the Templar and Lydia intently. Sickening as it was to watch flesh burn, Gabriel enjoyed the sight rather thoroughly. “Better than my imagination,” she commented to herself while she folded her arm behind her back. Her other still rested on the cane while she gave a bit of a sigh. She half hoped for the Templar to go back on his word, but he had been so determined to leave without further bloodshed that it was very doubtful he would actually attempt to drive his sword through the demon’s chest. And there was no doubt in Gabriel’s mind that Lydia was playing at that as well. The sneaky worm was smart, but weak. The princess smirked while she looked on, Lydia screaming for her guests to leave. Her ambition was lovely; everything nearly went according to whatever plan she’d cooked up. If there was one reason to enjoy the holy being’s presence, it was only that he had wrecked something precious to greed’s new princess.

The fact that Cecil stared at Lydia now, his expression showed the obvious distaste for her. Gabriel turned to face him completely as he did the same for her. His humble statement brought a smirk to her lips before she nodded her head once, her free hand moving to wrap itself over his shoulder. “Very well.” She turned her head to watch if the Templar would do as expected and walk out the door along with the now rushing crowds of demons. “We’ll move slowly. Allow the room to empty.”  

 

Temp:  William was glad to see that the Princess gathered her senses and agreed to back down, though she didn’t say so in such a way. It was clear that the woman was very angry towards him, and understandably so. She was bold to approach him the way she did, and even more bold to let Excalibur touch her flesh willingly. Seeing her flesh burn and bubble due to the literal poison that was his aura, as well as his holy items, was uncomfortable to say the least. This was something he was used too though, as he’d killed many things in his time, including demons. As soon as it was clear that no further aggression was being thrown his way, he sheathed Excalibur and placed Sanctus on his back, then retracted his wings. “Decision…Wise…” He then offered her a slight bow and turned, walking away and eventually through the crowd that separated in order to gain distance from him. He thought about apologizing to the Princess, but he knew that she wouldn’t think anything of it. With his mission accomplished, he left the Kingdom of Greed, now in need of a serious break.

 

Razorbackwriter:  There was nothing more vile, than the stench of demon flesh burning from the holy aura of Excalibur. It would be enough to make the weakest stomach empty their dinner back up onto the floor. Lydia’s skin was literally melting -cooking. Her fine gown was clinging to her arms, like it was now somehow fused and it was a certainty that she would lose even more skin as she would try to move it at the ball’s end. The party was well and truly over for the Princess. Her fine ballroom was a shambles. A mess of blood, bodies and broken dreams. All of Lydia’s plans for the evening had been thwarted by this…this holy creature before her. She didn’t even understand what he was doing in Hell in the first place. He wasn’t invited that was for sure. There was a look of absolute hatred and revoltion towards William as he withdrew his sword from where he had it pointed. His wings slowly closing in behind him. He was backing down, or rather decided to spare her life. She was of course testing him to see if he was true to his word. A gamble you could say. She was the Demon of Ambition after all, and one that often acted if the opportunity to survive was possible. But there was a price to pay for this action, and that was the horrid scarring that was going to be a reminder of what this man had done.

“Decision…Wise…”

“Hardly.” The word was laced with a sinister edge. You could see that she was practically livid. Her body trembling, not from pain but from rage. Lydia’s teeth were gritted as she held back on screaming foul obscentites at the Templar as he took his leave. If Scar had been in the room, he would have questioned why the Princess let this man go. Make no mistake, she had her reasons. The fight was over….for now.

Turning on the remaining crowd, that would include Gabriel and her boy toy, Lydia’s partially melted face would be a gruesome sight. Such beauty now tainted. The right side of her mouth dragged down as though hit by acid. Her head wobbled slightly, as she appeared to have trouble standing. The holy aura had more or less crippled her.

“I shall be turning in. You may find your own way out.” The time for social niceties was over. Gripping the edge of her skirt, she shuffled past the Princess of Wrath and started her way slowly up the spiral stair case. It was a pathetic sight, but one that may well have Gabriel laughing for days. The humiliation of Lydia to be the talk of Hell for a very long time. She stopped only at the top most step, to cast a look down at the carnage. ~Such a waste~ Defeated, she dissappeared from view.

Beserker looked down at where his armor was starting to frost up. He even tilted his head at such magics, but then a low and gruesome laugh came from beneath his mouth grill.

“OOahee seeweay-fen eay-peae peoh-fe z-seeah-ha seewae deeaynaez ah-bae teae, peweay-de-kuk?”

(translation : “You think ice can stop the likes of me, child?”)

The voice almost sounded as though it came from far away, like an echo through a deep dark tunnel. The armor crackled and then started to turn a dark shade of red, but illuminated by a surge of heat, like hell itself. Did the girl not realize that this suit was indeed enchanted, forged in the pits of the damned. If the girl retreated to a safer place using her unique powers, then the game was about to be turned on its head.

~RB~

 

 

The Unveiling – SS.

 

All Hell breaks loose at the Greed Masquerade ball.  Who will be the next to die?

Scene setting : The Masquerade Ball of Greed – Ball room.

Co-written with Dessy, Temp, Zetta, Moo, and Nhal.

 

Dessy:  Mariela raised an eyebrow when Scar mentioned about him being a Prince, and that he didn’t know one of them was gay. “A prince?” she questioned, turning her head and looking at what Scar said was the prince, and then the male next to her. “Hm.” she said, tilting her head to the side and narrowing her eyes. Hell just got more and more interesting everyday… at least to Mariela it did. Mariela continued dancing with Scar as they talked. She nodded her head at the fact that Lydia was wasting a flirt, before looking down at Scar when he mentioned about the other one being Sloth. “You mean the one she is talking with now?” she asked. Mariela thought about Scar’s question, on if she wanted to be introduced, pursing her lips. “Sure. Why not?” she said.

Scar had all of a sudden abruptly stopped dancing, and she followed his gaze, first seeing the fallen man, then seeing Lydia and her companion run across the floor. She quickly turned her head to see a man stabbing another one with a dagger. “Oh no.” Mariela said, a sigh escaping from her lips. She looked down as Scar grabbed her hand and started pulling her away, saying he made a promise to her. With a free hand, she lifted up her dress as they ran. “Shouldn’t we be helping Lydia?” Mariela quickly said, her heels making noise against the floor as they ran away from the scene.

 

Nhal:  Belphegor shook his head lightly and gave a soft chuckle. “Oh please, do not mourn for that man… Mammon was a complete and utter fool who wasn’t able to get past his own ridiculous obsession for physical objects, beneficial or otherwise…” He lifted a hand and scratched at the back of his long neck. “Mammon left behind no legacy besides a pile of objects and persons that he had deemed ‘worthy of his posession’… If anything, I would prefer to see this new princess improve upon his mistakes, not add upon his previous ones.” Hearing the mention of Gabriel, he tilted his head slightly and gave a nod. “Yes i’m aware of who she is. I tend to keep myself well informed while in my own little corner of hell.” As Lydia excused herself, he gave another nod of his head slowly. “Well now, it seems as if things will be picking up any moment…

 

Moo:  Kirsikka hadn’t had to roam through the halls outside the ballroom for long before finding a set of stairs leading downward, and with a guard stationed at the top, no less. Frost wove around the man, brushing his cheek before she stood before him quite suddenly, taking hold of his chin with her index finger and thumb. Not a moment passed before her lips met his, and she released a frosty breath into his lungs. The man hadn’t even had the time to pull his weapon, as his hand rested on the hilt now. With the demon pulling away, she watched his lips become blue, the pallor of his skin dulling as frost traveled throughout; the hypnotic kiss was successful. She gave a single nod of satisfaction and quietly beckoned him with her finger, a small smile placed over her lips. “Go to the blacksmith’s shop,” Kirsikka commanded…and then she was a wisp of frost once again, lingering around the guard’s shoulders.


Gabriel’s smile widened slightly, listening to the princess give her lines to the ever charming Sloth, better introduced as Belphegor. At least until the mention of a princess of wrath. The smile was flattened into a mere smirk, her crimson eyes nearly narrowing completely for a moment. “As confusing as it is,” she murmured with Lydia’s giggles. “Yes, five.” She was itching to wring this woman’s neck. Just hack away, and let loose the fury building within her. It were as if a time bomb was implanted within Gabriel, and every event that occurred, the faster it ticked. She turned to give a pleasant nod of her head, despite barely being addressed by Sloth. A small smile still lurked on her lips, though her eyes would meet his like daggers, as her anger over Lydia’s rude remark was still fresh. For the most part, she had ignored what the princess’ companion had to say, until she remarked already? In which Cecil made his appearance again. Gabriel turned to look at him while he addressed her with a sort of nickname. It quirked her brow, though she hadn’t exactly minded. “No, don’t waste your efforts,” she answered dryly. His efforts would be used to see that she herself was safe from the apparent assassinations and disturbances occurring.

While the situation itself was hardly exciting, it was refreshing to see the princess’ ball go to ruin so quickly. If things continued the way they were, this evening might end more pleasantly than Gabriel could have imagined. “Indeed,” she agreed with Belphegor. “This evening’s entertainment just became a little more promising.” She chuckled darkly to herself before taking a sip of the champagne she was holding. The matter didn’t look as ‘trifle’ as Lydia had said, while she was clearly agitated, calling guards over to break the men apart. Gabriel tutted lightly to herself before setting the glass on a nearby tray as it passed. With a break of the small smile came a much larger, toothy smile. A small laugh sounded while Lydia’s voice rose to a scream, rather impatient with the situation further away.


Astarte took a few dozen steps back and away from the scene while doctors rushed in, and bystanders murmured and stared. Nothing settled quite the same as expected, simply because this was Hell. Murder and sinful nature was a norm, and sometimes appreciated or laughed at. Astarte personally became wary of situations like this; questioning as to why anyone would want to create chaos here. During her mix and mingle with the guests, it became apparent she and Blitz had missed out on quite the battle. A war, actually. Though the details weren’t known, or couldn’t be proven with the variety of rumors nobles were speaking of, she knew that it had between greed and wrath. Two very well built armies, yet one had been flattened due to the late prince’s eagerness. It came as a surprise to see the two mingling now, and not so much that there was static within the room. Someone’s aim was apparently to worsen this situation. Was Astarte really suppose to care? Her crimson hues slid over the crowd once more before she caught a glimpse of a man causing a scene further away. What a massive panic this was creating…

Time to ditch, or continue with the party anyway? Astarte’s eyes wandered the room, looking for Blitz’ familiar pink hair in the mass of masks. It made it hell of a lot easier when he began to ascend toward a chandelier. The woman’s eyebrow rose, questioning what his methods might be, and if they even related to the current situation. There was no hope of seeing Eren through the faces while more gathered closer still, passing Astarte to catch a glimpse of the stabbing. Guards rushed into the room, and even the princess herself was attempting to handle the situation. With a purse of her lips, she simply decided to wait..

 

Temp:  The time had finally come to get the finger pointing game started. So far William had already succeeded in getting two of this gatherings members to fight each other, but that was just the beginning. Now that all the guests and the guards attention was focused on the two men fighting, it was time to make another move. This time his target was already well within his grasp. The man was standing in the middle of the crowd that William stood in, actually mere feet away. There were multiple ways to get things heated in the crowd of demons, but he decided to go with a rather simple one this time. While everyone was still focused on the incident at hand, William raised one leg and launched it forward into the mans back, sending him flying through the crowd and through multiple people. The direction he kicked him in was towards the guards, and it would likely look like he was trying to assault them. Not only that, but his body had knocked dozens of people over and raised quite a few tempers. All around William people started to argue and point fingers at each other, accusing anything that moved with violent murderous intent. This chaos and dismay was satisfying. Everything was going smoothly, though he knew that it could all change in an instant. Should he somehow be discovered, things would go from ‘covert’ to a full on brawl. This was not something that would go well for the parties inhabitants, due to the nature of their weaknesses. For now he once again retreated away from the newly enraged crowd, and proceeded towards a more peaceful one, where he would blend in once more.

 

Razorbackwriter:  

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It was like a human game of dominoes was happening, as people were flying and tripping over each other. Skirts raising, tempers flaring, and in the midst of it all you had the worst demons in hell dressed to the nines. This was going to get ugly fast, and Scar’s intuition was on the money. With Mariela begging that they should stay behind and help Lydia, Scar had other ideas. He took Mariela’s hand tightly in his and forcibly dragged her from the grand ballroom.

“Don’t argue. If you ever believed anything I said to you, you will follow me now!” There was a sense of urgency in his voice – his eyes pleading from behind that of his mask. No more words were said, as he used all his strength to take his date out of the ballroom…..and into the great maze of Greed.

No sooner had they made it down the stairs, the foreboding sight of the great hedge walls stood before them. The entrance was a dome shape and was guarded by two fierce looking stone statues, each were holding spear tipped lances. They stood to attention though there was something about their eyes. As Scar and Mariela passed, the right handed statue’s hand twitched, and tightened its grip upon its spear.

(TC for Scar and Mariela to the Greed Maze thread.)

“SCAR!!!”

Lydia roared as she witnessed Scar disappear out of the ballroom with the young witch, Mariela. Right now, he had to drag away the Duchess of Greed!? His timing was appalling, and the Princess’s face grew darker than that of the worst winter storm. People were falling all around her, caused by some daft git with two left feet, that had careened into a wall of guards and sent people flying. Clutching her hands tightly into fists, Lydia marched over to one of the piles of guards and roared at them boisterously.

“GET UP YOU IDIOTS! You….You clumsy oafs!”

Lydia had lost all patience, and she inhaled sharply through her nostrils as the men clattered and clanked in their armor, trying desperately to get up off the floor. This was not only embarrassing for the Princess….it was down right humiliating to occur right in front of the likes of Gabriel and of course Belphegor. The Princess of Greed spun around slowly as she scanned the room of guests. This was starting to feel like a set up. How could men suddenly start brawling, then stabbing wildly……then guards and guests being thrown to the floor, by the most left footed dancer. One of the head guards approached Lydia and bowed from the waist.

“This is most unusual, M’ilady. Something is not right here.”

“No shit!” Lydia growled under her breath. “Are you SURE you checked ALL the guests for their invitations? I am starting to think we have some unwanted rabble!”

The Head Guard leaned in closer to the Princess, and asked for her advice. “It would appear you are correct. I shall have our men check all guests again.” Before he could leave however, the Princess suddenly got a flash of an idea. She held up her hand and then smirked. “I have a better idea.”

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Turning away from her head guard, who looked bewildered, Lydia picked up a glass flute of champagne as it passed her on a tray. Nodding to one of the trumpet players, who stood and then blew a loud tune to alert all to turn their attentions to the Princess, the Princess took to the dias near the throne.

“The time has come. Remove….your masks.”

If there was an assassin in the room, who was creating a din just to get close to a target, he or she was about to be unmasked.

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Lydia was the first to remove hers, and she did so with flair.

 

~RB~

 

 

 

 

The Masquerade Ball – SS.

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The Kingdom of Greed’s Masquerade Ball, hosted by the Princess of Greed – Princess Lydia Dominatus. Invitations have been sent out by ravens to all Kingdom royals, their partners, nobles and distinguished members of Hell’s Elite.

 

Razorbackwriter: 

 

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The Kingdom of Greed was simply a spectacular sight as the night of the Masquerade ball had arrived. Lydia had spent many hours going over the preparations from the catering to the cleaning of the monstrous chandelier that was situated in the grand ballroom. No expense had been spared in this lavish and decadent showcasing of Greed’s wealth and prominence. Up to two hundred staffers assured that all the guests needs were catered for and the glistening hall was a testimony to Princess Lydia’s dedication to creating a wonderful atmosphere. There was a large dining hall off to the right of the main ball room, and on the left a reception area where the guests could feast on the unusual and most delectable morsels. Top chefs had provided their services for a feast that was to go down in the history books.

The entertainment was to be a circus troupe who had everything from acrobats, to magicians, all there to engage the guests curiosity and minds. A full orchestra in back provided songs and music from the ages, and this only added to the magical fare. All of the Greed kingdom staff were dressed elegantly and were finishing last minute preparations, as their Mistress Lydia was making herself ready in one of the top towers. She had allowed herself enough time to get ready, away from Mariela and Scar. The Princess wanting to make a grand entrance at this…her coming out party. No doubt there would be many questions about the new Princess, not to mention a lot of unanswered questions about the former Prince – Mammon. Lydia planned to honor him of course, but for the most part she would be selling herself to her fellow Royals and trying to gain alliances where she could. Her belief that Greed had turned the corner in its desire to be taken seriously as a strong kingdom would be on show this eve.

Out in the grounds that were situated behind the main castle was a large garden labyrinth or maze that had been specially constructed for this night’s festivities. From Lyida’s window it looked simply intriguing and no doubt many couples would try their luck. The garden maze was illuminated by torch light and there was to be a prize at the center of it. Course, that would be announced later in the evening when the guests were enjoying their drinks.

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For those that arrived, the Lord Chamberlain would be waiting at the front entrance, carrying a royal staff and dressed in a powdered wig and black suit that was of silk and crushed velvet. The guests arrival would be announced and then the guests invited into the reception area for drinks as the music played.

 

~RB~

 

Dessy:  Mariela was already down in the ballroom dressed and ready. She had on the dress Tussa helped her pick out, with the gloves and the mask in hand. The ball hasn’t started yet, and she now waited at the entrance for Scar. Her blonde hair was in tight curls, framing her face, and the dress went well with her green eyes. She shifted the mask between hands as she waited by the entrance doors. “Where is that damn Alp?” she asked, giving a sigh and leaning against the wall. Lydia was still getting ready – she knew that. She didn’t want to disturb her, so instead she simply let her be. Mariela was a little calmer about the ball, but she was scared everything will go horribly wrong. She moved her eyes away from the door, looking around and scanning the decorated ballroom. It was beautiful. They did an excellent job decorating it, and the food looked delicious. She just hoped everything went easily – no fights or drama – and that everyone had a good time.

 

Razorbackwriter:  Little did the Duchess know but the damned Alp appeared right behind her sporting a black mask that was dotted with small diamonds. He wore his top hat of course, but it was a little bit more polished than usual. His suit was very well made, hand sewn to be exact and he had in his left hand a jeweled tipped cane. Taking a glass of champagne off the tray of a roving waiter, the Alp coughed before leaning to whisper in the Duchess’s ear.

“Right behind you, Mariela.”

If she turned around, she would be met by the sight of the alp in all his finery. Already the band had started to play as a procession of carriages was now circling the front entrance drive way. The show was about to start, and the stars of the night were yet to shine, though if truth be told, the blonde Duchess was defiantly one of the first to appear. There was no sign of Lydia as of yet, but she always was one that liked to make an entrance. The Alp half expected her to appear right at the last moment, as all the guests filled the ball room.

Drinking down the glass of champagne in one gulp, the Alp placed the empty glass on another passing tray and smacked his lips, as he made a sweeping step to then be in front of the Duchess. His eyes, black as night staring into hers as his head tilted just slightly. In this guise, the Alp could be regarded as handsome but Mariela knew the truth about the demon. Could she put that aside for one night? Taking the Duchess’s right hand, he brought it up to his lips to offer a small kiss that was as gentle as butterfly wings. His lips lingered for a moment, before he slowly let her hand go, and then offered his arm for her to take.

In a whisper, Scar says to Mariela;

“Whatever happens this eve….remember this. I am right behind you, watching……I have your back.”

~I’ve always played it safe nothing’s ever safe
Give me the courage to back my own convictions
Every decision I make I pay it back and more
Now turn the cards and let them fall to me
I don’t need to play on with the hand that they have given me
I’ll give it back cos it’s not the way it has to be

And you can easily gamble your life away
Second after second
And day by day
You play the game or you walk away
It’s a new turn on a blue day
And a cool deal of life for me
And it’s all good

I know that the spades are the swords of a soldier
I know that the clubs are weapons of war
I know that diamonds mean money for this art
But that’s not the shape of my heart~

What he meant by this would be unknown for now, but he simply gave that cheeky grin, followed by placing a gloved finger to his lips and led the Duchess into the grand ballroom. As they passed a gilded mirror, Scar turned his head to look at his own reflection. His eyes glowered red before returning to normal and proceeding forward.

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~RB~

Wicked – SS.

Scene setting : Greed Castle.

co-written with Moo.

 

Moo:  The question the woman asked left both Oroan and Serin a little dumbfounded. When they had just explained themselves, this woman still expected them to know? What the hell did they look like? “We just told you–” Serin began, a little irritated. A quick thought directed from Oroan had her close her lips together in a line.

“Yes, we were attacked… it was dusk, so the man’s features were hidden for the most part.” Oroan continued the conversation easily, obviously relaxed. Years of dealing torture to pry a person’s mouth open definitely had its perks–aside from causing pain. Although her cutting in to request the princess wasn’t making this any better for the pair.
“From what I could gather, he had long, long black hair…he was unnaturally tall–taller than me.” The brute’s meaty hand rose well above his head. “At least by a foot or so. But he was smaller.” Some description that was. Oroan couldn’t have guessed the man’s hair color or eye color. “But I can tell you he dealt in magic and he was obnoxiously strong.”

“Black Elemental magic,” Serin cut in. “He manipulated the wind, lightning, and fire.” She paused for a moment, hearing the ruffling of heavy skirts accompanied by clacking of heels against the floor down the hall. “I don’t know if he was watching us the entire time we were in the square, or if he had arrived while we were tending to business.”
By the time she’d finished her sentence, Lydia entered the room. Or she assumed this was the princess, as she looked royal enough for the part. Serin had to take a breath to compose herself, being in the presence of the princess. The shit- storm was most definitely growing.

“We know nothing of the war because we were no where near wrath at the time,” Oroan replied. “Milady.” He was sure to add the last bit not to seem rude. Gluttony didn’t call for such formalities, but this was entirely different. And with a female, no doubt. There was a slight bow of his head in respect, in which Serin mimicked. “I’m not sure if your guard understood what was being said, but we are here on behalf of Gluttony.”

“Or were,” Serin added with a shrug of her shoulders. “Yesterday, that is. We just finished explaining it to…” She looked to the woman before her. “I’m sorry…I never caught your name, ma’am.”

 

Razorbackwriter:  “Her name…is Mariela, Duchess of Greed.” Lydia said, jumping into the conversation as though she was in control of it. Mariela was keeping her lips closed, probably cause she had lost the little thief. Waltzing past the trio, with Scar dancing along behind his Mistress, she took her place upon the throne, and settled down – fanning out her skirts. With the pair explaining that they WERE from Gluttony, the Princess took that as being former employees of Gluttony. They claimed to be nowhere near the war at the time. The guard apparently mistook what the pair had said in his message from Mariela about them.

Drumming her nails lightly upon the arm rests of the throne, it wasn’t hard to see that Lydia was formulating a new and cunning plan.

“I was unaware that Baal allowed his staff to wander the kingdoms at their will. What a chap.” Lydia beamed a bright smile as she eased back, almost like a cat in how she presented herself. If she was any more feline, she would purr. “I am sure that Mariela has explained that we are in a transitional stage here. Mammon…the late…great…Prince of Greed fell to Gabriel at the battle of Wrath. Like you both, I was nowhere near the battle. But from our towers we could see….and hear it. Such a shame.” At this Lydia pursed her lips and then the smile formed once again.

“Naturally a new heir had to be chosen and of course with Mammon having no children, it was I that was made the new monarch of Greed. I am Princess Lydia Dominatus, also known as the Demon of Ambition.”

Scar leaned against the throne and tipped the front edge of his hat, as his Mistress introduced herself formally. Seeing her acting so grand was enough to make him chuckle, but he had to admire her style.

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“Since you have both come so far, and it is such a long walk back to Gluttony, why don’t you both…stay for the night. Maybe….a bite. I am planning on a grand masquerade ball in the coming days. One to be attended by all the Princes and Princesses of Hell. The event of a lifetime.”

Lydia batted her eyelashes as she took out her fan and struck it open. “Also….there is a little thief loose in my grounds, and I would give a bag of gold to the first person to catch her. She has a chalice that belongs to me, and I want it back.”

The Princess shot Mariela a look, which would be hard to read. “No hands off this time, I swear it.”

 

~RB~

 

Moo:  The pair’s eyes followed Lydia to her throne. As the demon sat, they both bowed in respect, having turned to give her their full attention. “A pleasure to meet you,” Serin directed to Mariela with a turn of her head. A brief smile passed over her lips, faked.

The princess’ prodding didn’t require any answer as she continued to speak. A small relief to Oroan as he couldn’t explain his situation completely. It would give them away if he didn’t word it correctly. While she spoke, he would think of ways to twist his story until it was satisfactory–until he heard the familiar name of Gabriel. “…Gabriel, as in Belial’s lover?” There was emphasis on the last word. Everyone knew she hated the man, as she often made her want to kill the man very clear. And rumors about the two spread constantly around the kingdoms. “I don’t suppose she went to war to avenge him.”

“So she finally killed Belial,” Serin cut in, voicing her thoughts under her breath. Her gaze moved from the floor in front of her to Lydia. The demon of ambition. It made sense for her to take over the throne, given her status. However, it was abnormal for Hell to let women take a seat in the throne. Serin had to avert her gaze to hide the narrowing of golden hues. Interesting that two women would take thrones in such a short time.

Serin and Oroan exchanged glances. Something about staying the night, much less eating the food in this place, was unsettling. However, there was something in the tone of the princess’ voice that made Serin feel like no was not an answer. The demon master straightened in order to look less casual. The mention of Nami gave her a tinge of worry. They were being offered gold to find the imp and return the chalice. To turn down this deal was also suspicious for a pair like them. An idea formed in her head slowly as the princess swore hands wouldn’t be taken. Of course, what punishment was left if not that?
“That is very kind of you, milady,” she answered with a smile. “The generosity is almost overwhelming. We could use a good rest and meal after last night’s events.” Of course Oroan would normally grumble at this point, knowing flesh and blood would not be part of the meal. However, he kept quiet. “A bag of gold is hard to pass up as well. We can start searching for her immediately if you would allow us.” She bent slightly before tilting her head to look up at Lydia, awaiting her response. Oroan had of course mimicked her movement.

 

Razorbackwriter:  There was a bowl of fruit beside Lydia’s throne, and she reached out to pick up a bunch of grapes, while speaking. Rather than be overly formal, Lydia started to pick off a grape at a time and popped one in her mouth – chewing thoughtfully as the pair spoke about what they knew of Gabriel. “…Gabriel, as in Belial’s lover?” The male asked and much to her pleasure in this, Lydia answered simply. “Yep.” The Demon of Ambition had heard the report first hand from another pair that she had given a ride to in the park, thus then forwarding this information on to Mammon – who reacted just as she had imagined. “I don’t suppose she went to war to avenge him.” He continued. Lydia smirked and then waved her gloved hand dismissively. “Oh no. Mammon was furious at the idea of a woman being on the throne of Wrath….and how the poor Prince Belial had been betrayed by his lover. He found women to be untrustworthy.” Now, if you were to hear Lydia say this, and then of course put all the pieces together about the fact SHE was now the Princess of Greed, you would have to wonder. “Mammon was the one that started the war.” Course, Lydia didn’t let on that he was given a little push, but in a very cunning way. “I dare say he would roll in his grave if he knew….heh.” Lydia didn’t finish her sentence but if you could see her eyes they were positively glistening. Be it from the fact she had used her very nature to secure the ultimate prize. His own kingdom.

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Taking another grape and popping it into her mouth, Lydia was pleased to hear that the pair would seek out the cheeky little brat that had stolen the chalice. Snapping her fingers, a servant appeared and then handed the bag of gold to the pair. “Now. I am trusting you both to return that girl and of course the royal chalice she stole from me.” The gold coins jingled in the pouch and it was safe to say it was a considerable sum.

Business having been concluded, Lydia rose from her throne and then decided now was the time to write up those invitations. Devil knows they weren’t going to write themselves. “Good day.” Lydia said, taking her leave and with Scar following along behind her like a shadow, they departed from the room.

Going out into the corridor, Scar asked about Mariela. “Little witch seems to be a bit quiet. You really think she is up to the task of being Duchess of Greed? She couldn’t even use her powers to catch a thief.” The Demon of ambition just tutted as she walked along. Her thoughts were on other matters. The ball was to be a significant event in the history of Hell’s royals, and nothing was going to stop her from planning it. “She’ll find her feet. Eventually.” Lydia said dryly, before turning back into her study. Reaching the desk, she took out a large wad of parchment and started to write out invitations to each of the Prince’s of Hell….and of course, one Princess. Each invitation was to the reigning Monarch and a partner of their choice. Other nobles invited included the Warlock Raul – owner of the Red velvet, and the famous Doctor – Doctor Wilhelm of Hell’s Kitchen. There were bound to be other nobles and all would get an invitation.

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One after the other the invites were written out, and rolled up by none other than Scar, who wanted to be helpful. As each rolled parchment was tied off and sealed with a wax seal from Lydia’s ring of Greed, a black raven would be perched on her window sill and for each invitation another would come and fly off in the direction of the kingdom or business that the invitation was destined to go. Once all the invites had been sent, Lydia eased back in her chair and drummed her clawed fingers together. Her eyes danced as she thought about the ball and just who would attend. Each would have a reason to come. But Lydia had plans…..oh…grand plans. It would be a night that no one would ever forget.

 

~RB~

 

Moo:  Serin felt wary of Lydia, due to the irony of her position and timing of Mammon’s death. She would not give this away as she nodded, smiling gratefully. The pouch of gold was jingled before being dropped in her hand, as a sign that there was plenty within it. The woman pursed her lips before glancing up at the princess, who was already rising from her throne. Her lips parted, wanting to protest being paid before the deed was done. Now the trio couldn’t wouldn’t get away as easily.

“Maybe we should leave it here,” Oroan muttered after Lydia’s exit. It was quiet enough so that Mariela might not hear. “Taking it would only put a target on us as well.” He stared at her from the side, having to lower his head to make eye contact.

Serin nodded her head after a moment. She turned to Mariela and set the pouch in her hand before taking a step back. “We wouldn’t feel right in taking the gold without catching the thief first.” A brief pause while she smiled reassuringly. “I got a good look at her, but it might be a little tricky. We’ll look for the chalice at any nearby shops as well.”
With that being said, the two were on their way, being led from the throne room back out to the front gate. And from there, they would wander into the courtyard to look for Nami. They did not plan on coming back.

 

Razorbackwriter:  The last of the Ravens had been given the invites to the Masquerade ball much to Lydia’s delight. Seeing them fly off into the skies of hell, the Demoness of Ambition wrapped her arms around herself and smirked a child like grin. Oh, she was always up to something. Plotting and scheming, but she never let anyone on to it. Scar set down the royal seal and then asked of his Mistress; “So…going off to bed then?” That alp didn’t miss a trick. He was hoping she was going to lay down and sleep for that was the time when he could invade her dreams. Not to mention sit upon those ripe breasts of hers. Oh how he loved them. Often when she wasn’t paying attention he was admiring her rounded and ample bosoms that always peeked out of the top of her gowns. She flaunted sexuality and well, if Scar had anything to say about it. Lydia, on the other hand was wise up to Scar’s devilish tricks and rounded on him. “I’m not even tired. Might have an all nighter.” At the mention of this, she stuck out her tongue playfully at the alp, before taking her leave from the room. “Go bother Mariela. See if you can’t get a cuddle with her.” Lydia’s words floated back, and the cheeky Alp grinned, before turning himself into a tiny butterfly – with that odd hat still on it’s head, and went fluttering off after the unsuspecting witch.

Greed : Blacksmith shop

Down the winding stone stair case Lydia went with a light click clack of her shoes. Her gown making a delightful hush like sound against the stone stairs, till at last she came upon the Blacksmith shop. Thankfully, that annoying dwarf was off on an errand, and that left Lydia to her devices. With a cat like walk she entered the room that was to the ceilings high with all manner of weapons, swords, shields, axes and of course one particular suit of armor. Beserker.

Slowly Lydia approached it – walking around the perimeter as her slender digits caressed the outside of the metal suit. The eyes of the skull helm started to flare up to a sight of burning coals. The helm itself following the Demoness’s movements as she was almost being affectionate to it.

“You never did tell me just how Mammon fell.” Lydia purred as she came around to stand before the suit of armor, that tilted its helm down towards his Mistress. A long and slow sound emitted from its mouth grill.

“Swy xdoky ab Qlosw heylpyk tu xaku, uail Werwfyzz.”

(translation : “The blade of Wrath pierced my body, your Highness.”)

“Oh yes…Gabriel’s blade. Poor Mammon. I dare say he was too far gone by then.” Lydia added, her hand reaching up towards the skull helm and then caressing its cheek. At this the suit started to chuckle and loudly.

“Wy kekf’s dyojy qeswais o holsefr zwas. Zofy yfairw sa rejy swy Hlefpyzz o holsefr…rebs.”

(translation : “He didn’t leave without a parting shot. Sane enough to give the Princess a parting…gift.”)

Lydia’s eyes lit up and she even chewed her lip. Her head turned slightly as though eager to hear more about this gift.

“Gift? He hated the woman. Why would he give her something as he was dying?” She asked, now that curiousity had gotten the better of her. Much to her delight, the armor would answer.

“Ef talfefrz derws, swyly qaidk xy o zerws – bal afpy o qatof, o tof qaidk xy ef hdopy.”

(translation : “In mornings light, there would be a sight – for once a woman, a man would be in place.”)

“WHAT? He turned her into a man? A curse? Ahahahaha….really?” Lydia drew back her hand and placed it over her chest as she was in shock by what the armor had just revealed. It was scandalous…and almost too funny to be true. Lydia’s laughter would be infectious and even the armor could not resist as he chuckled along with her – though his voice much deeper.

“Mammon was really keen to see men retain the thrones of Hell, but this…..this is insane. OH…OH..imagine waking up to see a dick when you got to pee. AHAHAHAHAAHA!” Lydia was nearly doubling over in laughter but then she started to right herself as the cogs and wheels started to turn in her mind. If Gabriel had been turned into a man, then surely she would want a quick fix. A way to break the curse. Lydia’s face became almost gleeful at the prospect of being able to right the wrong. But would the price be too high? Again Lydia smiled at the armor and blew a kiss.

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“This ball….is going to be more exciting than even I had dreamed it would be. Ahaha……AHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Fade to black……..

 

~RB~

 

 

 

 

 

Are you a good witch, or a bad witch? – SS.

Scene setting : Greed Castle.

co-written with Temp, Moo & Dessy.

 

Moo:  So it had worked. The pair were escorted directly to the throne room. Though they would not find who they had anticipated. Upon entering the room, they would see an almost average looking woman, save her beauty. Confusion set over both Serin’s and Oroan’s faces as they came to a stop in the entrance of the room. Oroan was nudged forward at that point, and he took a step forward before pausing. The guards wouldn’t be leaving, then.
“Where is Mammon?” his gruff voice asked. Where his eyebrows should have been, furrowed down in more confusion. Had he retired to his chambers? No–that didn’t matter. He mentally shrugged it off. If Mammon wasn’t here, it would be easier to collect the troublesome imp, who was standing feet away from the woman. Great. His eyes trailed over to her for a moment.

Serin remained silent, her expression unreadable. Though she would also gaze at her friend, longing to reach out for her. Nami! Her thoughts would reach the imp due to the close quarters.Disappear…we’ll be your distraction. Serin’s gaze would return to the woman as well, tilting her head slightly while the pair awaited an answer.

 

Temp:  Nami knew that there had to be some way out of this, and was determined to figure it out on her own. However, her thoughts completely trailed off as one of the people actually seemed to ‘stand up’ for her. Having her hands spared in exchange for a prison sentence was definitely an upgrade. She would definitely take one or the other, though being let off with a warning was definitely the best option. For a moment it sounded like the other woman, the one in charge, was going to reject the idea. This made her nervous…but then the woman went ahead and agreed. Well, this situation was turning out better than she thought it would. Her eyes had trailed around the room, and eventually back to the kinder of the two women. She was just about to ask for forgiveness, only to be completely thrown off by Serin and Oroan. This complicated things…sort of. Serin’s thoughts quickly flowed through Nami’s mind, which were about a distraction of sorts. Without giving it another thought, she once more turned invisible. She wasn’t about to leave empty handed though. Now invisible, she hopped back to the Chalice that she had originally gone for. It was quickly snatched by her, followed by her running towards the same place she entered the room from. Just like she had entered, she poofed out of the room and sprouted her wings. She would then descend to the ground below and find a place to hide while she waited for Serin and Oroan.

 

Dessy:  “I understand she is a thief, but I still find the punishment cruel.” Mariela said to Lydia again. She frowned as it seemed like Lydia was going to protest, but gave a smile when she agreed. “Alright. I’ll deal with her.” she said, watching Lydia walk off as she turned to look back at Nami. She looked at the girl, pursing her lips as she thought things through. She opened her mouth to speak, but the guards came in with a woman and a man, saying they were here about Gluttony. She turned to face them, putting her hands behind her back as the man was nudged forward.

She raised an eyebrow when he asked where Mammon was. “Mammon is dead. He died in the war at Wrath. Lydia is the new Princess of Greed, and she’s occupied at the moment.” she spoke with a soft and gentle tone in her voice. “May I ask who you are?” she then asked gently, She turned her head just in time to see Nami disappear, and the chalice leaving the throne room, and she jumped and took a step back from shock. “Guards. See if you can find her and the chalice, and bring her back here. Unharmed, please. I’ll be okay here.” she said, but wasn’t strict or mean while doing it. She gave them a light smile and nod, before they ran off. “Were you two with her?” she then asked, only out of curiosity. She had no plans of harming or hurting anyone. Actually, she wanted anything but that.

 

Razorbackwriter:  Scar shuffled along behind Lydia, sniffing as he did so. He thought it was strange how Lydia left Mariela to deal with the thief, especially since she appeared to be a tricky little thing. Lydia kept up her pace before turning into the grand study where Mammon spent much of his time. Old books, a large oak desk with comfortable leather chair in behind. It had a certain old world charm, and Lydia adapted to it quickly. She waltzed around the desk and sat herself down, fanning out her large skirt.

“Now…who to invite?” Lydia mused, taking out the quill from the ink well and brushing the feather end to her right cheek. Scar came to a stop, then had to ask; “Why did you leave the witch to deal the punishment, Mistress?”

Lydia stared at the alp blankly, then said with a dead pan voice. “Cause she has to learn. Not everyone is as good as she is, and I bet your bottom dollar that the thief has already made a run for it.” In fact, Lydia was almost certain of it. “If Mariela is to be Duchess of Greed, she needs to pick up a few skills. Think of this as a test.”

Only thing was it was a test that Mariela knew nothing about.

Lydia then took out a large pile of pretty papers, and started to write out invitations to the masked ball she had planned.

~RB~

 

Moo:  “Dead..?” Oroan asked an open ended question, as if prompting the witch to explain it further. “War?” He shook his head slowly, confused. There had been a war in wrath, and they didn’t know about it? More so…they had found Belial’s corpse only yesterday. It had been ignorant of the two not to investigate it further. It seemed a ruckus was occurring between princes. “Who killed Belial?” he asked. “We found his corpse last night in the town square…only to be attacked by someone I’ve never seen before.” Normally the brute wouldn’t speak so much is so little time. He was known to be silent unless addressed, and even then, he was reserved. Information like this, however, would bring a more social side to him out.

Serin let out the softest breath possible, like a hidden sigh of relief. Nami had escaped. Although Serin hadn’t expected her to take the chalice along with her. Good girl, Nami… Golden hues turned back in time to notice the female before them had noticed, though a little too late. Nami would be safe before any guard reached the end of that hall. Hellhounds, though…that might have been different. Hopefully the imp had made it past the gates by the time they brought those out.
“We’re not with her,” Serin said easily. Her posture was relaxed as her gaze fixed on the woman’s eyes. “I’m Serin, and this is my friend…Oroan.” Her hand swept to the side of her to turn her palm over, gesturing to the brute. “Gluttony sent us with a message regarding the discovery of Belial’s corpse. But…it seems Greed knew much, much more than we had.” It was an easy lie, given the conversation Oroan had cooked up with his curiosity.
Indeed, her own curiosity was now peaked. Mostly in regards to who Lydia was and how she’d come into possession of the throne. But it was better left unanswered, she felt. Meeting the new princess…well…who knew what she was like. “We were sent with this message yesterday, but thanks to our attacker, we were forced to seek shelter for the night and make our way here as quickly as we could thereafter.”

Dessy:  “You didn’t know there was a war at Wrath?” Mariela asked with a confused expression. She was sure everyone knew about it, so hearing that someone didn’t shocked her. “You were attacked in the town square?” Mariela then asked. “What did this attacker look like?” she asked afterwards, turning her head to listen to Serin speak. She gave a nod of her head when she was done speaking, before turning to one of the guards that were left in the throne room. “Go get Lydia, please.” she asked, turning to look at Serin. “Princess Lydia would want to hear this news herself, especially about this “attacker” you are speaking about. She’d also do a much better job of informing you about the war than I would.”

The guard headed up to the study, knocking on the door until he was called in. “Your Highness, a man and a woman are in the throne room that showed up soon after that thief girl was caught. As soon as they entered the throne room, the thief disappeared, and they claim they have news from Gluttony. They also known nothing about the war. Mariela is with them now and sent me up here to inform you, thinking you’d want to talk with them yourselves.” he then spoke to the Princess, awaiting her answer.

 

Razorbackwriter:  The guards report had stopped Lydia dead in her tracks. The quill being placed firmly back into the ink well as she placed her hands on the desk and pushed herself to standing. Each sentence was making her look more and more like a volcano that was about to explode. First two strangers appeared with new of Guttony that knew nothing of the war, and the thief that Lydia had left in Mariela’s capable hands had done a vanishing act. Probably with the chalice as well.

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“So….she sent you up here to fetch me to deal with the guests AND the runaway thief. Uh huh.”

Lydia practically flew around the desk, nearly knocking over Scar in her wake – what with her large dress and skirt taking up a lot of room. “Do I have to do everything myself?” She uttered as she left the study and raced down the corridor, then the winding stair case towards the throne room. As she passed her servants, they bowed and acknowledged her but with the speed she was going, you would think her ass was on fire.

Turning the last corner, she appeared in the doorway of the throne room and spotted the pair. A male of considerable size, and a slightly smaller female. There was no sign of the thief, but there was a very flustered looking Mariela. Lydia raised her chin as she entered the room, and made sure her voice was heard when she approached the trio.

“I have been informed that you both seek a word over Gluttony. Interesting. You know nothing of the war of Wrath,?”Lydia thought the war would be the talk of all the Kingdoms in hell. Taking out a fan and snapping it open, the Demon of Ambition fanned herself, while Scar snuck back into the room, sniffing around for the thief. She was nowhere to be found. Poor Mariela. So much for her good intent.

Lydia quirked a brow and then uttered; “Well…what do you both have to say for yourselves? Just what is it that you know of Gluttony?”

~RB~