The Maze of Greed – Part Ten : SS

With Bandit being unable to walk, the Giant Duggie and the little witch have to try and find a way out of the maze….and fast.  The Demoness of Greed is coming….

Scene setting : The Maze of Greed – Seven sins series.

Written with Dessy, Phlyn, and Artie.

 

Dessy:  Mariela looked down to Bandit as she spoke, apparently knowing this “Quinn”. From the sounds of it, Bandit had ran into her… and she didn’t like it very much. Bandit then tried pushing herself up and turning her body to the side. Mariela knew she was in pain, and she frowned. “As soon as we get out here, I’ll promise I’ll help you. I can’t do anymore. Not in the maze.” she said, before looking up over at Raul. She watched the vines wound around his legs and feet. This was good. If he woke up, it’d give them a good chance to get away. But from the way he was hit, Mariela guessed he wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon.

“Nice to meet you, Duggie.” Mariela said, giving a nod of her head in greeting. From the way the giant talked about Quinn, the two seemed pretty close. They seemed like they had a good friendship. Mariela raised an eyebrow at the mention of the maze. “You… work in the maze?” she asked. Then it hit her. Lydia took the maze from somewhere else… she wasn’t sure where, but she had took it from another place. Lydia probably added the creatures herself… she wasn’t sure if the creatures where already there when Lydia yanked it here to Hell.

“Mansion? What “mansion”?” Mariela then asked, tilting her head to the left. This was all very confusing. The maze was brought to Hell from another place… a “mansion” of sorts. And Duggie here had came with it, apparently. But how would Lydia manage to do that… and why? Those were the questions Mariela needed answers to. She gave a gentle smile when he talked about Quinn. “It’s good that she’s such a close friend of yours.”

Mariela then looked down at the hat when he picked it up. She watched him, scared he was gonna ruin it somehow. She opened her mouth to stop him from putting it on, but then he handed it to her and said someone was speaking. She put her head near the hat, hearing Scar screaming her name. “He’s alive.” she mumbled. “Scar?!” she said into the hat, but knew that was probably a stupid thing to do as he probably couldn’t hear her. She just held it against her chest. He was alive… but where was he? That was another question she needed answered. She heard the giant say “little witch”, but there was no “my”. Good thing. She was no one’s property.

She put the hat on the ground, looking at the bottom of the gown as she did so. She pursed her lips, before she reached down and began ripping the bottom of the dress. It’d be easier to walk in it if it was shorter. Once it was shorter, she threw the fabric on the ground. What was once a beautiful dress was now a torn mess. She then proceeded to yank her gloves off, throwing them down as well. She picked the hat back up, looking over just in time to see Duggie stand Bandit up.

“No, no, don’t!” Mariela said, running over to the side of Bandit. “She can’t walk because she can’t feel her legs. That’s my fault, but she’s in no condition to stand.” she said, informing Duggie of her injuries. “You know a way out of this maze?” Mariela asked, hope in her voice. “Good! Great!” she said, happy someone knew a way out. She handed Bandit Scar’s hat, then adjusted her arms so she could pick up Bandit, now holding the girl who couldn’t walk. The small witch was stronger than she looked, but she knew she couldn’t hold her for long periods of time. Her and Duggie will have to switch back and forth. “I know you probably hate this, Bandit. And I’m sorry. I’ll fix everything once we get out of here. I owe you for making things worse…” she spoke apologetically.

She then looked up at Duggie. “Help us out of this maze, then we’ll help you find Quinn. Okay?”

Phlyn:  Solomon continued to watch from a distance as the giant spoke with the others. Quietly leaning on his cane he watched as the giant tried to pick up the girl and the other rushed over, she mentioned an injury but from that distance he was unable to tell what,where, or how severe. As he watched one of girls begin to carry the othet it appeared evident that those two and the giant would be splitting off from the man sent into the bush, now he had to question himself.

His mind searched as he tried to decide which one to follow to find what he was after. The distance between himself and them was too great to determine anything and not wanting to a risk a conflict with anyone should he draw closer he decided it best to wait it out. Once they started to move he get a little closer and gone fully get his answer.

 

Artie:  Bandit cringed as she was roughly lifted from the ground, a sound of protest coming from her lips quite easily. “Gah!” Though soon she found herself in Mariela’s arms, her own wrapping around the witch’s neck to support herself. She wasn’t too surprised that the witch could lift her – Bandit was actually quite light and small, despite her big attitude. “Yes, I know her. She’s the strictest one on Satan’s guard. Girl’s built like a damn horse.” Bandit huffed, looking up at the sky for a moment. “Anyway.. Yeah. Help us out, and we’ll get you to Quinn. Actually, just mess up big time, and she’ll be here with her whole police force. Guaranteed.” Bandit raised a brow. Sounds like she’d met Quinn before, and not under good circumstances. The blonde felt limp in Mariela’s arms, completely powerless.. But, she felt a bit safer with the giant here.. And seeing Raul’s backside slowly disappear into the vegetation.

 

Razorbackwriter:  The loud sound of howls grew and seemed to be coming from outside the maze. The kingdom of Greed was guarded by hell hounds. Funny, when you think that the one called Quinn was one. The Princess of Greed was now on her way to the maze, since Raul’s spectacular disappearing act from her balcony. Wearing a new outfit, that was black tight pants, under a long flowing dress like jacket, and high collared panels in red and black, the Princess was on a mission. She had missed her chance to take down the Princess of Wrath as she had first planned. Now, the targets were those in the maze. Traitors and betrayers did not sit well with her, not to mention that Raul had just gone into the maze in search of the one that broke the collar. Lydia was bristling with rage and a renewed sense of hatred. But now it was all on display. The good and sweet looking Lydia, the one that butter would not melt in her mouth was gone and replaced by the real deal. The bitch from Hell. With two hell hounds on leashes, she approached the maze entrance with a cocky strut. She could just appear within the maze if she wanted, but Lydia wanted to hunt them down the old fashioned way. With the flair of showmanship, she released the leashes as the hell hounds spirited into the maze at speed.

“Kill them….KILL THEM ALL!” Lydia roared as she let out a green blast of power into the sky, to illuminate and send forth the warning of impending doom.

https://i0.wp.com/38.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_ma6vbnUV9i1rbdqm3o1_500.gif

Deep within the maze, the Giant raised his head as he heard the all too familiar sound of Hell hounds. Problem was, they didn’t sound like Quinn.

“I think we got company.”

He swung his battle axe up defensively, while Mariela was trying to help lift Bandit. The Giant stared down at the plucky little witch and asked.

“Are you going to be able to run carrying her, little Witch?” the giant was going to try and hold the hell hounds off and give the Witch and the human a good head start.

The game was on.

~RB~

 

Dessy:  Bandit wrapped her arms around Mariela’s neck, and Mariela held the girl with ease. She was lighter then Mariela thought, so it was no effort to carry her. “From how you describe her, I’m guessing she’s the leader of some sort.” Mariela said, giving a shrug of her shoulders. She looked down as Bandit spoke to the giant, and raised an eyebrow at her. Bandit has obviously met Quinn before, and it didn’t sound like a pleasant meeting. But Mariela wouldn’t question it. They had other matters to tend to. She just nodded in agreement to Bandit’s promise to offer their help, for his.

Mariela opened her mouth to speak, but when she heard the howls, she closed it. Well… shit. That didn’t sound good. Hell hounds… not really what they needed at the moment, especially since they just got done discussing Quinn. Mariela gave an exasperated groan – she was so done with all of this. “You’ve got to be kidding me…” she mumbled. “Can I not get a break around here?” she then spoke out loud, mainly to herself more than anyone. She was so done. So very, very done. With all of this. It was obvious Lydia was tracking them now. They really needed to get out.

Mariela looked up as the sky began glowing green. Yeap… definitely Lydia. This was just great. She adjusted Bandit in her arms a little bit, moving Scar’s hat to be held in one of her hands. The giant spoke, and Mariela looked up to see him defensively swinging his axe. “Yeah. The bitch and her pound of hell hounds…” she spoke, narrowing her eyes in frustration. “Not great company.” she spoke. Mariela looked up at him as he looked at her, asking if she needed help, and Mariela shook her head. “I’ve got it… she’s very light. At least for now, I do. I’ll let you know when I’m unable to hold her anymore.” she spoke, looking down at Bandit.

“Are you gonna hold them off so we can get a head start, or are all three of us just gonna make a run for it?” she then asked, looking from the giant, to face forward. This is when the game starts… Lydia’s little game. And they were all part of it. Now, they just had to beat her game.

Phlyn:  Solomon teetered softly leaning on his cane continuing his relentless observation of the group. They continued to talk amongst themselves until the sounds of dogs echoed throughout the maze followed by a bright flash of light. Caught off guard by the sudden events Solomon turned away and when he looked back the group was already up in arms. I suppose this means a battle is imminent with this group as the epicenter my target will be visible soon the thought passed through his head as he gagged his surroundings.

Taking note of all visible walls and corners, there was three people in front of him only one combat ready and an undetermined force closing in. There was no good place to hide and simply observe and he was not known to either party here making him a potential target and with non combatants collateral damage seemed likely. Staring at the giant and the two girls he thought perhaps it best to align himself before the fighting started although it could complicate things later should one of them be his target. His other option was to wait it out, remain a neutral party and avoid the fight hopefully working things out as they happen he wasn’t about to flee and leave a target behind.

decisions like this always troubled him weather or not assist or sit to the side and simply do his job. Regardless of his decision a fight was coming, pushing up of his cane he stood straight and with a calm sigh raised his cane to head level. With his free hand he took hold of a small clasp just beneath the hand and twisted it letting out several clicks as he did so. The rod of the cane shifted revealing several interlocking blades along the length of it. With a quick flick the cane was back at his side the segments loosely clacking together as he held it at the ready. best be prepared it is a bad idea to assume an understanding of the wills of others. With a calm stance he kept watch on the area relaxed and ready to move as the situation demanded, hoping for a simple solution but prepared for the worst.

 

 

 

A curse is broken – SS

 

 

[KINGDOM] Greed : Main Hall.

Razorbackwriter:  The bloody remains of what was Raul’s latest conquest was strewn all about the room. The satin sheets awash with the dark crimson stain that dripped upon the floor leaving small puddles. In the middle of the room however, Lydia was admiring her new face. She kept touching her cheek bones and turning this way and that in front of the mirror. She no longer even looked like Lydia, but had taken on the face of the girl that unknowingly sacrificed her life. Raul sighed as he stood in behind her, almost bored with it all. The things he had to do, in order to keep Lydia amused was tiresome. He was using her as much as she was using him. It was a partnership with similar goals. Lydia was the Demon of Ambition and Raul had many ambitions himself, that could be fulfilled if he played his cards right. The girl whose family would probably never know just what horrors befell her as she took her final breaths. Her skin was more or less ripped from her body leaving behind bloody entrails and bone. Lydia harvested the girl like a fine surgeon would if helping a burns victim. Now with a renewed sense of energy, she felt she could face those that remained downstairs. Little did she know that the ballroom had emptied out into the neighboring streets of Hell.

Taking up a fan, she waved it gently almost as she plotted her next scheme. But she would be interrupted as Raul let out a roar of anger. He could feel it. Something…something had broken one of his most prized possessions. The anger swelled and flowed through him as he started for the balcony. He threw open the shutter doors and marched out onto the platform that overlooked the Maze of Greed. His red eyes scanned the winding hedge walls and he sniffed the air. Turning on his heel he barked at Lydia.

“WHO IS IN THE MAZE?”

Lydia blinked, as she was too busy enjoying her new face. “What? Why? Just Scar and that….silly young witch.” Lydia was playing dumb for now. She had never seen Raul this enraged before. If his blood could boil this strongly over a trifle matter, she started to wonder if he was more of a threat than first thought.

“Someone…broke Bandit’s collar.”

“Whose Bandit?” Lydia again was clearly not up to speed on Raul’s list of lovers and toys. She edged out onto the balcony and gave a shrug of the shoulders. “Why are you worrying over some…girl when you have me?’

 

The flowers that bloomed in the small garden that lined the castle wall all started to wither and die as Raul’s face was now distorting to a very ugly version of himself. It was now no longer a matter to joke about. Raul didn’t love Lydia at all, and he threw his head back and started laughing. “Just cause you have a new face, doesn’t mean I don’t fancy others.”Truth was he hated losing what he believed belonged to him. To him, Bandit was a possession and one he intended on keeping. He had left her in the maze on purpose, but had not expected that anyone, let alone a young witch would have the power to remove the collar. It was the work of a greater power. It had to be. Lydia stomped her foot indignantly, when she heard Raul say that he fancied others. “I don’t share men.” But before she could get another word in….Raul vanished from sight. He was headed to the maze….to find Bandit and the one that removed the collar.

Lydia let out a loud scream as she threw her fan at the wall.

“I DON’T SHARE!”

 

 

~RB~

The Maze of Greed – Part Seven : SS.

 

In order to help the human called Bandit, a curse would need to be broken.  Mariela has the strength to do it, but at what price?

Scene setting : The Maze of Greed – Seven Sins series.

Co-written with Dessy and Artie.

 

Dessy:  “My bad. Lydia is the cause of everything.” Mariela mumbled under her breath. She looked down at Bandit again, nodding her head in agreement. “Hm. I think “manipulative” fits him well.” she said, but looked up at Scar when she asked the questions. She kept silent, watching Scar as she let him answer the question about why they couldn’t use the hat. She still didn’t say anything, instead just frowning at Scar’s words. “You would think that every maze would have an exit. But, being how Lydia is pure evil, it wouldn’t surprise me if she didn’t make an exit.” she said, but gave the girl a small smile. “But don’t worry. We’ll find a way out of this maze.” she spoke determinedly.

Her gaze turned to Scar when he spoke about there being an exit. She raised an eyebrow, before pushing herself to stand up. “And that exit is…?” she started, narrowing her eyes as an eerie smile played on his lips. Then, he spoke again.

“You’d have to defeat Lydia.”

Mariela flinched at those words. “Should’ve seen that coming…” she gave a nervous laughter. Sure, she was a bit pissed at Lydia, but Mariela honestly doubted that she’d be strong enough to defeat Lydia. Lydia was clever, and evil. Powerful, even. Mariela was not. “Of course. In order to get out of this Danger Zone, we have to destroy whatever created it.” she spoke. “Which is Lydia.” she said. “Yeah, uh, is there another way out?” she spoke. “I mean, I wanna get out of this place, and I’m not the happiest with Lydia right now, but…” she trailed off. “Fighting Lydia? The Queen of all evil? I doubt there’sany chance in defeating her.” she spoke, now biting the corner of her mouth. She should have expected that defeating Lydia would stop this mess. She looked down towards Bandit again, continuing to bit her lip. She seemed to do that when she was nervous or scared. Bandit still needed help… but they had to get out of the maze.

 

Artie:  “Lydia.. Lydia..” Bandit searched for the name to put to a face, but could find nothing. She hadn’t yet heard of the new management in Greed, and to be frank, she didn’t care much for any of the royals. “I’d help, but if she’s some ‘Queen of Evil,’ I don’t think even at full strength I’d be able to help you much. I mean, I can’t help at all, now. I can’t feel my legs.” Bandit seemed bitter at her lack of abilities in general. It figured that she was the most under-powered in this realm, and without legs, she was an ant to others. Though she couldn’t feel her legs, the slight dampness that continued to creep showed they were still bleeding. Maybe not gushing, but the wounds had yet to fully close. Her breathing had remained hard and rough as she remained calm, keeping herself from screaming. This, at least, showed her stubbornness and willpower. If she’d had some sort of powers, she’d be a worthy adversary, indeed.

Her eyes stared into Scar’s without break, matching his own seriousness. This only furthered her show of will. “I’m assuming that this is the only way, aside from that hat, because life has to always be difficult, doesn’t it? Things can’t just be simple in Hell?” Bandit perked a brow, slight sarcasm and more bitter feelings creeping into her tone. It was more how ridiculous this all felt – what, was she in some sort of novel or something? Of course there had to be an ultimatum, and neither choice favorable.. Though, she barely knew Scar, and she was one for her own survival. Bandit wouldn’t have hesitated to take the hat, as she felt nothing to Scar… nor Mariela.

 

Razorbackwriter:  The smell of blood was wafting up from the ground where Bandit lay. Mariela’s attempt to heal the girl fell short of actually closing her wounds. Not to mention that the girl was now paralyzed from the waist down. If she couldn’t move off the ground, then what chance did she have to escape the maze. Scar’s smile remained fixed as he tilted his head downward and looked at that jeweled collar once more. The girl claimed that it caused hallucinations, but at the moment, the girl was speaking perfectly normal and not showing a touch of madness. Maybe the charm had worn off, or the Master of the collar was pre-occupied. Perhaps he was up in the castle Greed right now, banging Lydia. Who was to say? It was no secret that she took lovers now and again. Scar though, wasn’t her cup of tea. But back to the girl on the ground. She was showing her sarcastic edge, when lamenting that the only way out, aside from the hat would be difficult.

“Life wasn’t meant to be a picnic, girly.” The Alp was already feeling that standing around in this part of the maze was using up valuable time. Scar reached up and straightened the hat on his head to a more fitted position. Rounding on Mariela, he went to take her hands, and then whispered.

“Try to remove the collar. Focus…on the jewels. It was made by a Warlock, and I think you are strong enough to break it.” Scar stared at Mariela without looking down at the girl again.

“Free her from the link with Raul. It may be her only chance out of here. After that, she’s on her own.”

~RB~

 

Dessy:  Mariela turned her head to look at Bandit and gave an apologetic smile. “Once again, I’m sorry for that…” she apologized for Bandit’s lack of feeling in her legs. “And Lydia is a powerful individual. I, myself, probably couldn’t beat her.” she said. Mariela couldn’t help but laugh at Bandit’s next words. “I’ll be the first to tell you that Hell is far from simple.” she said, before turning to look at Scar when he spoke. She simply nodded her head in agreement, before Scar walked towards her and took her hands in his. He then told her to try removing the collar. “What makes you so sure I’m strong enough to break it, Scar? What if I can’t?”

Oh Mariela, self-doubting herself and her strength. The girl was much stronger than she thought or claimed she was – and it was obvious Scar could see that while she couldn’t. Lydia clearly had saw it, as well. But Mariela didn’t believe it. “I’ll try…” she said, removing her hands from Scar’s grasp and walking towards Bandit. She sat on her knees to the girl’s right, narrowing her eyes and looking down at the collar. “I’m gonna try to get this off… Don’t move…” she said. She took her hand and ran it over the jewels on the collar, staring at them. Scar told her to focus on the jewels. That meant it was something with the jewels that could break the collar off.

 

Artie:  The blonde would furrow her brows as Mariela moved closer, placing her hand on the collar and the jewels inscribed within it. Almost instantly, Bandit had winced away from her hand, further opening the door for Mariela to see her hard background… but at the moment, more things were important. Bandit bit her bottom lip, waiting, pondering… Her eyes closed as Mariela thought and pondered, an almost impatient feeling spreading through Bandit if she had not been so anxious herself. And then… A crack, the collar beginning to break itself open — air. Cold air pressed against her neck where it’d once been covered by the collar, a laugh of relief coming from Bandit’s lips as excitement filled her despite her disabled form. “Hey… Hey! You.. You did it! Shit! That’s awesome!” Her hands would move as she gripped the collar, tossing it away and then raising her hands to rub her neck, feeling at the skin that could now breathe..

 

 

 

The Maze of Greed – Part Six : SS.

 

Chancing upon the human who was also a prisoner of the maze brought out Mariela’s good nature.  Of course the girl needed help, but Scar and Mariela needed to get away.  Would they assist the girl, or did they have something bigger to worry about?

Scene setting : The Maze of Greed – Seven Sins series.

Co-written with Artie and Dessy.

 

Razorbackwriter:  Against Scar’s better judgement, he fell in behind Mariela whilst she started to do an introduction of sorts to this bleeding mess of a human laying on the ground. In a way, it was nice to see her take charge the way she did, but the fact she kept telling Scar to shut up made him slightly miffed. After all, in his mind he was only just trying to help.

“I’m Mariela, a witch. This is Scar.”

“A nightmare.” Scar said with a tip of his hat. Well, he was a nightmare demon, so he was close in his introduction. Scar kept his eyes skyward however, rather than have to see another angry glare from Mariela, while she was trying to convince the girl that they were of no harm. “We’re trapped here just like you. We have no intention of hurting you. We want to help you.” There she went with the Florence Nightingale approach. Scar, was more direct.

“Did Raul hurt you?’

There, he asked the big question. If the girl had been a victim of the Warlock and knew his name, then he would have no choice but to assist in helping the girl. Course, the girl was not really in much of a state to answer that. She had just dropped the blade, after trying to find out what day it was. Perhaps she had been out of it for some time.

“Near midnight, Saturday eve. The Night of the Greed ball.” Again, these would give Bandit clues as to how long she had been in the maze. He was starting to wonder if she even knew she was in a maze. Bandit wanted names, but Mariela had already offered those. Was she hard of hearing? Using his hands, and with an animated face he said.

“THIS…IS…MARIELA!…SHE…IS….A…WITCH!” He signed this as he raised his voice as thought she was deaf.

“I’M SCAR!….LOOK….LET THE WITCH….HELP YOU.”

Whether she would or not, remained to be seen.

 

~RB~

 

Dessy:  “A nightmare.”

This caused Mariela to reach over and smack Scar once again. “That’s not helping!” she spoke, but turned her attention back to the girl. Once she dropped the blade, she didn’t hesitate to run over to the girl’s side. She knelt down next to her on her knees, looking the girl over. She opened her mouth to speak, but Scar had already asked. This caused Mariela to give a tilt of her head towards him. “Raul? The warlock that gave Lydia the mirror?” she mouthed, but looked back down at the girl. “I don’t know how much my healing can help you. But it’s worth a shot.”

But then she turned her head to glare at Scar. She was tempted to throw that dagger at him, but didn’t. “Will you be quiet and come help me?” she asked. “I think she needs water.” She looked back at the girl, assessing the damage. She held her hand over the girl’s body. Her healing would only help her a little bit, at least to not be in so much pain. But the girl would need a lot more than that to help her, but what she needed they didn’t have the maze. Mariela would try her best.

Mariela ran her hands over the girl’s body, trying to heal whatever she could and trying to stop whatever pain she could. “I’ll try and heal you, but with how injured you are I don’t know if it’ll do much except lessen the pain only a little bit.” she spoke. “I can’t help you anymore than that, at least not here in the maze. It isn’t exactly a “medical” place.” she said, looking down to the girl. “Can you try and tell me your name?” she said, looking back over as she tried to heal as much as she could.

 

Artie:  The “healing” hurt perhaps more than the actual cuts, Bandit giving a strangled gurgle that would otherwise be a growl of pain. Her hand shook in agony, the little markings on her fingertips closing in a painful itchy fashion. Bandit would look at Mariela and bare her teeth, in pain and somewhat hostility, though not directly aimed at her but more the pain. As she healed, only slightly, the dryness in her throat subsided to enough that she could speak. “You can call me Bandit.. And yes, I know that.. Scum.. He put me here.. He.. He put this collar on me and I can’t get it off..” She would reach up to it, attempting to get her fingernails underneath the harsh fabric but to no avail… “Help me.. I think he’s been controlling my mind with it.. I keep seeing things, I don’t know what’s real or what’s fake.. I was forced to..” As her mind suddenly began to recall the Red Velvet club, she swallowed, her voice fading. She felt no need to say more on the matter.

“Greed.. I’ve never been to Greed.” Bandit mumbled, looking down at her hands as they now went to the dagger – though she would give a faint cry at trying to pick it up due to the pain… Though, with a shaking arm, she’d tuck the weapon back into her boot.. “I can’t walk.. I can’t feel my legs.. Oh, god! I can’t feel my legs!” The numbness of her body was overtaking her. Her arms felt limp and heavy. Mariela had healed Bandit’s pain, but in the lack of pain was no feeling at all. Of course, it wasn’t that she was paralyzed.. It was simply that she was so heavily damaged that she could only feel the pain, and without that pain.. Nothing.

 

Razorbackwriter:  Mariela was slap happy. That was how Scar saw it. Scolding him and now physical violence. He held a gloved hand up to his cheek and grumbled under his breath for his troubles. So much for helping. The young witch had obviously learnt a bit from Lydia, or so it seemed. The alp zipped his lip and instead of doing anything further, he simply folded his arms indignantly and turned up his nose at the whole scene. Let her help the tragic human, he thought as he let her set to work.

“I think she needs water.”

Scar simply shrugged. It was not like he was carrying any water on him, or even knew where the nearest fountain was. It was a maze, after all. Mariela was soon learning that this girl, Bandit – was in fact a victim of Raul the Warlock. Scar was right. Course, she had told Scar to shut up so many times, that Scar refused to say another word, merely running his pinched fingers along the line of his mouth as though he had zipped it, and threw an imaginary key over his shoulder.

Mariela’s healing powers were doing more harm than good, if the cries and gurgles were anything to go by. She twitched and shook violently as the magic did its job, but it wasn’t enough. Hearing her growl at Mariela was enough for Scar to roll his eyes and that look of “I told you so.” was plastered all over his face. The whole…goody two shoes gig was really not his bag.

The girl’s name was Bandit, and she had been left in the maze by Raul with a strange collar fastened around her neck. It had markings that the Alp had never seen before along with glistening, sparkling jewels. It must be worth a pretty penny. As to what it did, well, the girl seemed to think it had something to do with mind control, and hallucinations. Scar rubbed his chin as he thought to himself. She could be the Warlock’s property, if she wore his collar. Maybe she had disobeyed him, and this was her punishment. Mind you it looked like she had taken a right beating.

When the girl had tried to put the dagger that she had drawn on them, back in her boot, she started to scream that she couldn’t feel her legs. The magic had somehow brought about a paralysis. Not that Mariela would have known this. Scar turned away for a moment and then mouthed a few obscenity s so that Mariela couldn’t hear him. It was one thing to be lost in a maze created by Lydia. It was quite another to somehow drag this helpless girl to safety, when he wasn’t sure where that was anymore. The alp took his hat off and raked his gloved fingers through his disheveled black hair.

Snorting under his breath, he turned back to Mariela and then handed her the hat.

“Place it on the ground, two feet from the girl. Then….I want you to spin it.” The Alp was giving her instructions on how to use the hat. “You then take the girl’s hand and jump into the hat. It will get you both to safety.”

The Alp wouldn’t take no for an answer.

~RB~

 

Dessy:  When the girl started showing signs of pain, Mariela flinched. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it would hurt you.” she said, cursing herself. She looked over at Scar, raising an eyebrow. “So now you’re going to be stubborn and not talk at all?” she said. Mariela looked down when Bandit spoke.about Raul. “So the warlock is the cause for everything, it seems.” she said, more to herself than anything. She looked down at the collar, running her figner over it as the girl begged for help and talked about how he thinks he’s mind controlling her. “I wish I knew a way to get it off, but right now, I don’t.” she spoke. “I’m sure there’s a way. There has to be.”

She looked up to see that Scar had this “I told you so” look on her face, and it caused Mariela to just stick her tongue out at him. When the girl started panicking about not being able to feel her legs, Mariela looked down with a horrified expression. “It’s okay, it’s okay. I don’t think your paralyzed… something must have happened with my healing, and I’m sorry. We’ll fix it, I promise. Right now, we’ve all gotta get out of here.” she said, biting the corner of her lip.

She looked up when she was handed Scar’s hat. Hearing him speak, she frowned deeply. “No, Scar.” she spoke, defiantly. “I’m not leaving without you.” she then spoke softly, still holding the hat. She was being stubborn again. Scar wouldn’t take no for an answer, she knew that – but she wasn’t going to leave without him. She refused to leave without him.

 

Artie:  Bandit looked back and forth between the two – lovers, maybe? Her eyes fluttered a bit as she gazed away and at her legs.. She had her own problems to deal with, not to be in these two lovebirds’ feud. “Raul is a manipulative bastard.” Bandit gave a slight growl, moving her hands to massage her unfeeling legs. “Why don’t we all just use the.. hat.. wouldn’t that make more sense?” She held skepticism in her voice, unsure of exactly what a hat would do. Then again, this was hell. She could expect that something even as seemingly ordinary as a hat could contain some magical value. “But.. never mind that.. Is there any progress on a possible way out?” Bandit raised a brow, wondering if the two had thought of mapping it out as they went along..

“Every maze has to have an exit, right?”

 

Razorbackwriter:  “No, he is not the cause of everything.” Scar said in an exasperated tone. The real culprit behind everything was Lydia. At least that is how Scar saw it. The Alp watched as Mariela stared at the collar that was around the human girl’s neck. The jeweled collar was charmed, and done for a reason. It was not the kind that had a lock that you could prize off. It would be magically sealed. The only way it would come off was in a place where magic didn’t exist. Again, they were going around in circles and Scar had his reasons for earlier offering Mariela the hat. She knocked him back then….and she was refusing again now. Damn her for being so …so stubborn. Scar’s lips flattened as she said that she was not leaving without him.

It was then the girl on the ground appeared to have all the answers. She had been snarling about how Raul the Warlock was a manipulative bastard. He must have been to get that collar around her neck in the first place. Scar and Mariela knew nothing of this girl. To add to that, Scar’s intel about Raul was limited. He had only overheard them twice, but it was enough to piece together that he was bad news. Even worse than Scar himself.

“Why don’t we all just use the.. hat.. wouldn’t that make more sense?”

Hearing the human ask why they all couldn’t use it, Scar smacked his lips together and turned his head sideways and then cast his eyes down to the ground where she lay.

“Because….there’s no coming back.” Surely Mariela knew what that meant.

The alp pulled away from Mariela and moved a few step closer to the girl on the ground, before crouching down to her level. He made sure that she could hear what he was going to say.

“Unlike you….we are creatures of this world. Going through that hat strips us of who….and what we are.” Scar was a part of that. His magic….everything. He was more than willing to send Mariela into it, if it meant her safety. For him though, it meant something else. Scar started to get up, when the girl asked about a possible way out of the maze. That was when he said something that he knew would probably scare Mariela to death.

“Oh…there’s an exit.” The Alp put his hat back on and tapped it twice. An eerie smile played on his lips.

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“You’d have to defeat Lydia.”

 

 

~RB~

 

Beauty is skin deep – SS.

The Princess of Greed has not had her happy ever after as she anticipated.  So now we follow her as she returns to her Chambers.

[KINGDOM] – Greed : Lydia’s chambers

Razorbackwriter:  The Princess of Greed never ever envisioned that her night of magic and dance would turn into such a nightmare. All her grand plans were now in ruin, thanks to that horrid angelic Templar. Struggling to make her way up the passage to her apartment, the disfigured and now crippled Lydia was cursing and muttering foul obscenities under her breath. Guards that stood to attention as she passed had to fight to stop themselves from being sick at her appearance. Her skin was scarred, bloody and torn. Her dress a wreck. One heel of her shoes was broken and this did nothing to help with her trying to walk with some dignity. It was all that Lydia had left.

Surprisingly, Lydia still held her mask in her hand. She’d managed to keep a hold of it, even with the fight that she had with the Templar. Such a pretty thing it was too, but it was useless to her. Lydia stumbled and only just managed to catch herself before falling face first onto the floor. A small cry of pain came from her painted red lips, that were now stretched to half way down her chin. She looked every bit the monster that she truly was.

None of the guards moved to help her. All stood in their rows. Afraid to help her. She was liable to lash out in fury, and it was known far and wide that she was unpredictable as the weather.

Her head turned to sneer at one of the guards nearest where she stood. Her chin trembled as she grit her teeth in an act of defiance. No one could help her now. Scar had run off with the young witch. Why Lydia had not seen that coming was beyond her. One thing was for certain, she now had a hit list. A list of those that in her eyes wronged her….and they would all pay.

Finally, after the exhausting walk to her chambers; she was about to reach for the door handle, when she heard a woman’s voice from within.

“Oh yes!…Yes…Oh…you are so BIG! Harder…..FASTER….Please, Master!”

Lydia froze, with a dumbfounded expression on her face. She checked the door, and yes, this was her room.

 

“Mmmm….yes little one. I can get even bigger.”

“MASTER!…Don’t stop!”

There was the sound of grunts and bed springs. A glorious crescendo of animalistic noises coming from within Lydia’s chambers. Lydia blinked as she wondered just who could be f*cking in her bed. Her mind raced as she tried to remember the man’s voice. The woman’s….it could have been half of hell. With a loud snort, Lydia gripped the handle to her door and forced it open. What met her gaze when she entered left her gob smacked.

“RAUL!?”

“Lydia?”

“I’m coming!” The masked girl cried out as Lydia stood in the doorway, absolutely shocked. There was the Warlock, and some masked harlot, going hammer and tongs on HER bed.

“Not on my silk sheets, you’re not!” Lydia stormed into the room, but forgot about her broken shoe and tripped on the corner of the rug, sending her flying flat on her face.

“Oh…..fuck.” The warlock withdrew himself from the girl and pushed her face first into the pillows, so as to muffle any protests or other…sounds.

Lydia was slamming her fists onto the floor. She was beyond angry…beyond livid. If it wasn’t for the fact she was in such a state, it would have been comical.

Raul took up his pants and quickly threaded them on, before making his way to Lydia’s side to help her up. Only when she lifted her head and he got sight of her disfigured face, he quickly let go of her hand.

“Princess? What the hell happened to you?”

“Help me up, you idiot.”

The Warlock remembered his manners and then assisted Lydia to stand, while the girl that had been in Lydia’s bed was now trying to cover up her nakedness with a sheet. She happened to be one of the lesser royals and had been charmed by Raul earlier in the night. The girl chewed her lip nervously, as she knew that she could be in terrible trouble.

Once Lydia was standing upright, she spread her hands out as though to help give herself some balance. Her chest was rising and falling sharply, her heart pounding like there was no tomorrow.

“Lydia…..Sweetheart…” Raul implored, holding his palms together as though he was ready to pray. Lydia bared her teeth at Raul and snarled. “I was down there….in the ballroom….fighting for my life. And you….YOU were up here in my chambers no less, fucking some…some trumped up tart?!”

Raul knew he was going to pay for this mistake. He had found the girl wandering and…well, one thing led to another. He had an insatiable appetite for a pretty face….and fanny. Raul’s brows knitted however when he heard that Lydia’s life had been in danger. Her face evidence that she had put up a fight and lost. He held up a finger as though to say something witty, then slowly brought it down as he stared at Lydia’s face. It was hideous.

“Who did this to you? The Princess of Wrath?” The Warlock had assumed that since Lydia had her sights on the head of Wrath that this was the result. Oh how wrong he was.

“No!….Some holy…damn fucking…How the hell does an Angel exist in Hell? And…and I thought Excalibur belonged to some poxy King named Arthur.” She then waved her hand at her injuries. “IT did this.” Meaning that the sword’s power caused her to practically melt. She shuffled over to her dresser and started picking up face cream bottles and tonics. “I can’t go out looking like this!” Lydia looked up at her reflection and then screamed. It was a hollow and terrible sound, that would make even a man weep.

“My….beautiful face.”

The Warlock came to stand in behind the Princess and rested his hands upon her shoulders. As much as Lydia could be annoying, the Warlock had a soft spot for her. So evil…and yet so unpredictable.

“We can fix this.”

“What with? Oil of Ulan? Oh..that’s not going to do shit.”

Suddenly, the Warlock had an idea. He stuck his tongue to the inside of his cheek, while Lydia stared back at his reflection. He started to grin as he leaned down and whispered into Lydia’s ear.

“Essence of another can restore your beauty.”

 

Lydia’s ears pricked at this and then she cast her eyes to the figure of the girl that was still huddled in a sheet on the bed. Although it was hard to see, due to the sagging corners of Lydia’s mouth, she started to smile. She brought up a hand to clasp over Raul, who was now raising his chin proudly. “Can you forgive me?” He said, staring at her in the mirror.

“If you can fix me. Then yes. Just this once.”

The two then turned to face the girl, who stared at them both innocently.

“What?”

 

The view from outside Lydia’s chambers would show a strange red and green glow coming from under the door, as the Warlock started a chant that had Lydia laughing with glee. Terrified screams soon fell into silence, as another life was lost on the night of the ball.

 

~RB~

Listen like Theives – The Finale of the Masquerade Ball of Greed : SS

 

With the Princess of Greed having taken flight to her chambers, the demons and thieves move their fights outside- while others try to steal Beserker from under Lydia’s nose.

Scene setting : Greed Kingdom, Seven Sins series.

This arc was written by eight writers originally.  Finishing off are Zetta, Moo, Temp, Nhal and I.

 

 

Zetta:  Blitz was prepared for another speech from the prince, as he was sure his attack was not fatal due to his dealings with such an ancient demon. But this served as a testament to his regenerative capabilities, if he wanted to kill him outright he would need to hit him with that to deal real damage against that non-physical form. Then he hadn’t a clue towards his opponent’s physical limits either, that thought called for some intuition in place though, as to which of the lords of hell was he currently up against. His thoughts usually moved at quite a fast pace, in the midst of a fight it was rare to have the opportunity to stop and think about the entirety of the situation. Yet the prince was inconsistent with his movements, slowly coordinating himself save for the one moment he had caught the half-god by surprise. Now the other man was floating about, while clearly audible, the prince would have to be ignored so that Blitz could hear his own thinking pattern above that voice. Cloud it out while his opponent led no offensive. He deduced that this was definitely not Pride, as he spoke more in regard to Anarchy Division than himself, which also ruled out Lust who would be more focused on some sort of sexuality rather than the dealings of his enemy. Similarly this was not Wrath either, as from what he gathered in the ball a war had recently happened between that Kingdom and this one which he now stood at it’s entrance. A gluttonous prince would probably not have even concerned himself with the likes of another without a selfish reason, and even if he had, while close range he doubted such a man would squander such an opportunity to simply eat his unsuspecting victim. The princess of Greed was the one who neglected his services, and was likely dealing with the templar on her own while this all went down.

Leaving only two viable possibilities, that this was either the Lord of Envy, or that of Sloth The other Prince in the ball with the guard had access to hell-fire but was idle during the whole confrontation inside, so he was most likely one of the last two as well. However it was a greater chance that this was sloth because of his continual habit to talk too much, he had so many thoughts in his head and dragged out words every time he spoke. With his final summary of thoughts, the other combatant had finally stopped talking and now Blitz could enter the fight with a greater awareness as to what he would be up against. The new form before him seemed threatening, he was too far to know of any new abilities though, but at least he was prepared to actually fight now. To avoid any attacks from the sky, the demigod would take himself to a heightened standing as well, formerly planting his feet on mid-air, the nether-realm’s law of physics altering itself to accommodate as if he was on solid ground. He ascended to the point being able to look at his opponent clearly, despite the change in appearance. “So you’re ready to get serious then, old geezer?” He would ask, briefly briefly relaxing himself before taking on a serious demeanor to match. Right then he would zoom forward at his target, waiting until the very last moment to extend an elbow outward towards him, he would then slam his free-hand’s palm into his other arm’s fist to apply a more dangerous impact.

At the last split-second before he could have made contact, he revealed this rush-tactic to be a feint and twisted his body with incredible agility. Matching this physical prowess with dexterity as well, his hands would come together, one open palm slapping against the back of another to better focus his energy at a heightened pace. Continuing the attack, he’d release an explosive wave of aether at the end of the tricky combination. It was at this moment that the doors to the ball opened, the party likely being over, and the templar-knight clad in holy artifacts being the first to leave.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Cecil was not surprised in the slightest when the Princess’ enemy had been allowed to simply walk out of the front door after ruining her party and even showing himself directly to her. Lightly threatening her and pushing her to damage her own form after waxing off the lives of several former party-goers. For this he was convinced that while the old ruler of Greed might have been too headstrong in his desires, this one did not have the gull to see things through. He didn’t know her personally aside from their short greeting, so it was plausible that she had personally saw no purpose in attacking a strong man like that who was now only seeking to leave. Even then he maintained his newfound feelings of distaste, her air of confidence shattered before the vision of real live strength. For that she was a coward in his eyes, playing with her own life so that she did not look the fool that he had already begun to see her as. Regardless of this, he had heard his Lady’s response, how they would be taking a walk to the exit as well. But slowly, coordinated hopefully for a different purpose. Now the other princess was headed to her own quarters most likely, in diminished glory. Oh! How simple it would be to have the behemoth back home ravish this place, and his love to set fire to the castle’s entirety while in this condition.

The thought made him chuckle, and it was now that he would stand firmly, retracting his hand wholly, now with Princess Gabriel holding him by over the shoulder. Even in her male form, he still found this very comforting and emotionally pleasurable. He broke his sturdiness in a short moment of glee, as he smiled brightly upon first contact with her. But then returned to his position as her royal guard, firmly placing himself before any that might have even looked her way. These demon nobles could be almighty in terms of riches, but just as he fell the Prince of Pride in the name of Wrath, he would murder anyone daring to threaten Her; Verbally, or visually.

 

Nhal:  The decaying figure did nothing more then turn his head towards his assailant as the blast of energy was taken to his side and sent him spiraling towards the now open doors of the ballroom, the shrouded cover he wore rapidly flaking and degrading off his body as he slammed back first into the first open door. Tearing straight off its hinges, the door was ripped free and went flying back into the second, catching a few exiting party-goers in a deadly vice which splayed blood, dust, and black smoke into a massive cloud around the entrance, obscuring the view within the area. Within the cloud the echoing sound of cracking bones and metals emanated before a tall figure would come into Blitz’s view, in its right hand a small square object, and in the other the mutilated body of what was once a guest of the masquerade ball.
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Stepping out of the cloud was a scrawny figure whose appearance was like that of a man starved to death, with skin which resembled faded black leather. no eyes or face were visible through the gray tangle of cloth that cloaked his head, hanging scraps decked in thick layers upon layers of blood, red, orange, brown and black. Within one ebony hand he held the same playing card as before, and in the other he lifted up the torn apart body of a young man composed of only an arm, upper torso, and stump of his neck.
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Bringing the broken body up above his head the creature allowed the blood to drip down over the shreds of cloth that hung loose near its neck before lowering the once living person down, the cloth slowly parting for the body to disappear into the black abyss beneath with the gut wrenching noises of sloppily chewed flesh, cartilage and sinew before the inevitable crunching of bone. The last of the remaining organs within the torso began to fall from the holds of the broken rib-cage, some scraps of intestines, lungs, and the heart last of all. After the torso was finally devoured the monstrous creature began to slurp up the viscera like a pasta made of flesh. Finally all that was left was the heart that lay within its long skeletal fingers, still giving off its last few inevitable slowing beats, blood splashing to the floor from the aorta.
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Tossing the heart into the air, a pitch black tendril shot from beneath the cloth, its barbed tip spearing the muscle as its last beat sounded. The roping darkness rescinded back beneath the cloth with the heart in tow, and finally ended in a loud wet swallowing.
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Stepping further out into the courtyard, the looming figure lifted the playing card between his fingers, which in comparison seemed minuscule. As it was raised the card began to crack slightly, dripping what seemed to be dark black tar, or something of the sort.
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The black liquid dripped and poured rapidly, pooling on the ground before rising up and forming the rough shape of a figure in front of the slender beast. Gradually bits and pieces began to form, resembling an enormously bulky suit of armor adorned with all manner of engravings and other decorations. Suddenly the black ooze began to contract, tightly winding up and vibrating right before it shot outwards with explosive force, coating much of the courtyard around its zone before slowly evaporating away. The rough figure was now a fully visible being in a massive suit of armor, one which was rather sizable at almost 8 feet tall.

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The skeletal being that sat behind the armor gave a brief turn, waving with one hand as its voice rang out towards Blitz.
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Disappearing like a breeze of smoke, the hand, as well as its owner faded into dust and disappeared from sight, the enormous suit of armor in front of it shifting and taking up a heavy combat position as it spun its sword in hand, gripping it tightly. Its voice screeched through the armor, deep, but sharp at the same time, causing the ears of those who heard it to ache at its metallic grind.
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As suddenly as the armor spoke it was already rushing forwards, sword dragging through the dirt and stone below its feet, unyielding to anything in its path. Despite the size of the armored figure, its speed was incredible, enough that those who underestimated it would obviously be caught off guard. Just as quickly as it hand begun moving, the hulking mass of metal was upon Blitz, swinging its enormous sword upwards towards his torso.

 

Moo:  Kirsikka really hadn’t the slightest idea what that armor had just said, but whatever the case, he sounded cocky. There was little disregard for heat when it came to the demon’s ice; it was, by normal means, not anything that could be melted. However, the searing of ice caused it to sizzle and steam after several moments while Kirsikka glanced at it. A small, cheeky grin broke across her lips as she slid the small blade away from the suit of armor, hopefully finishing the fine cut she had began in the first place. All that would be necessary was one more, if she could manage to near it again. Not that it would really matter… Her body disappeared, taking up her frost form to wisp back a few feet as she originally intended. With her earring crushed, it would only be a matter of time.


Gabriel had more or less become bored with the situation at hand, watching the Templar part the crowd in order to exit. Had she been so anxious to see his head on a pike while picking her teeth with his bones, she would have sent Cecil scouting after him. It crossed her mind for a moment before the man was out of sight, and finally decided against it; to waste her Royal Guard’s efforts would be useless. The pleasantries of tearing flesh from bone could wait just a bit longer… Besides, Lydia’s exit may have been short-lived, but it was the most entertainment Gabriel had during the entire evening. She grinned cheekily well after the princess of greed shuffled past her and Cecil. She turned her head to watch the ambitious–and rather disfigured–demon climb the stairs slowly. It didn’t matter if the princess could feel Gabriel’s eyes on her, or if she took offense to the attention; this was a sight to savor for a while, to keep herself occupied. The expression the demon wore would make a fine memory, if not how the ball had went to shambles so quickly.

“I suppose we had better find our carriage,” Gabriel said with a certain giddiness creeping in her voice. Her expression most likely betrayed the chipper feelings within as she gestured to the doors, which had more or less become a little less clustered. Only–until something, orsomeone came crashing through the doors, causing many casualties in the briefest of moments. It only took a bat of her lash before she was looking upon some skeletal figure, gutting and feeding from one of the demons. The woman was speechless…and in a good way. She gave a loud laugh. A simple HA! to seeing such a normally bewildering sight. “That man knows how to party.” Gabriel gave her staff a small twirl, looking about the room while the figure boasted and talked to who she assumed was the same pink-haired man from before. That was a fight she would also ignore, as she believed Sloth would not be a man she wanted in her way. At least as of yet. “We’re on our way, then.” The princess would be the one to lead them from the doors, ignoring the mess and slipping through with the remainders of terrified guests.


Astarte had more or less been well behaved while she waited for an opportunity to chase after her lover. Blitz was outside in who knew what situation, and meanwhile, she was stuck waiting several feet away from the crowd rushing the door. Knowing Lydia would rather have her life, and the holy guy was too good a soul to go back on his word, she wouldn’t dare near any further to that holy aura. She didn’t have any death wish, nor did she want to become as hideously deformed as the princess of greed herself. It wasn’t until the commotion shortly after the holy being’s exit that she would have the opportunity to see him again. And while the first thing she witnessed was the bloodshed and morbid devouring, she still wanted nothing more than to join the Blitz in the courtyard. Other demons who had actually survived the onslaught were rushing through the door as far away from the skeletal figure as it indulged itself. Astarte blended easily as she slid past, taking to the air quickly to watch the rest of the scene unfold. If the demigod required or requested her help, she was there for him. He might not have to ask, with the urgency she felt to cheer him on with the sudden charge of the new monstrosity that had taken form.

Razorbackwriter:  “Er….scuse me?….I…Hey?!” The Doctor kept trying to get a word in as the scores of people and blooded demons were leaving the masked ball in droves. It was like a crush…a sea of evil beings, that all looked as though they had just been to battle within the very castle of Greed. “We’re late!…What happened?” He grabbed the collar of a passing demon, whose had one eyeball hanging out of its socket.

“Holy….creature. Burnt the Princess. Dying…many dying.” The demon spat his words at the Doctor, as he then wrestled himself from the Doctor’s grasp. He didn’t want to stay a moment longer, like so many other guests.

Doctor Wilhelm turned back to his small crew from Hell’s Kitchen and threw up his arms in disbelief. All the trouble they had gone to, get ready for this night. And he was to show off Loc to the Prince of Pride. Not that he thought the Prince was even still here, if the crowd departing was anything to go by.

“Ladies….Loc. A bloody massacre and we missed it.” It was almost as though the Doctor was more upset about missing the carnage, than missing the dancing. The creation, who was standing up the back looked confused. Was there to be no dancing with his beautiful Roxanne?

“No….dance?”

“No, my dear boy. No dance.”

“Loc sad.” The creation’s face was the epitome of sadness. Poor thing. Loc stared down at the fair and buxom Roxanne with a huge pout. “Loc sad.” He repeated. A crack appeared in his face, the stitches breaking. A small tear of pus rolled down his cheek.

The Doctor knew better than investigate the state of the ball room. He would leave that for Igor. Seems like the hunchback didn’t miss out after all. Rather than hanging around, the Doctor placed his arm around Narcissa and turned her back towards the car. “I still think pizza is an option.” He offered.

The Blacksmith Shop

A slight chittering sound came in from the large webbing that was up against the far wall. There was a deep cocoon like tunnel that stretched inwards, and though the being from within had only made a very light noise before, the sound of the awaking armor had brought about a reaction from whatever lived in the web. Slowly, a leg appeared, then an arm. Each wrapped in a sheer black spider web like netting. Soon the full body of the being, that was now in the form of a woman, crawled out and rose to standing. She had long flowing black hair, with the deepest of green eyes that you had ever seen. She blinked twice to allow herself to see through the darkness, and made out the wisp of frosty air, as the girl who had been carving herself a piece of the enchanted Beserker armor was moving to another part of the room. The armor who had used some sort of enchantment to super heat, when being frosted by the young girl, had spoken in Rhefugi. The ancient language of the demon kind. This demon….this…spider like woman – tilted her head and slowly slinked out of the shadows, watching this woman who held the knife with keen interest.

“SEEwae HA-lueay-fe-peaezz ah-bae RA-luaeae-kuk qahee-de-kuk zneay-fe ooahee oh-deeay-jaeae eay-bae zwae n-feaeq ooahee qae-luae kukahq-fe wae-luae.””

(translation : “The Princess of Greed would skin you alive if she knew you were down here.”)

The spider woman glanced up at Beserker and then at the girl again. The girl may not even be demon kind, though what she was doing in Hell, remained to be seen.

“What are you doing?” The dark haired spider woman asked in English.

~RB~

 

Zetta:  With no other necessities keeping him here, Cecil was off after his princess. She took her stand with cane in hand, despite his near-beckoning to move onto wrap this castle and all who followed it under the thumb of Wrath. However she had other plans and respected whatever rules were in place to set each of the seven kingdoms fairly away from each other. Since he had apparently done well here, he would silent once more as they would make their way to return to the carriage they had rode in on. Their driver had been doing nothing while he waited for the entire party to be over, Cecil had moved first to properly escort Gabriel, opening the doors quickly. Then he would accompany her and the two would be off elsewhere.

 

Moo:  Kirsikka reformed to hearing a female’s voice speaking the language that the Beserker had. She looked past the suit of armor if only for a moment to glance over her audience. A single woman; a sort of spider-like demon, actually. Kirsikka was interested, but not so much to keep her eyes on the nosy thing. Especially with the abrupt coming of winds through the room. What should have been impossible. A black cloud came rushing through, wrapping itself around the awaiting frost demon. With the view of the skeletal figure, a smirk was brought across her lips. “Someone gave you a touch of trouble, did they?” Of course referring to his lack of, well, flesh. And he had been brutalizing someone from the look and smell of the cloth he adorned himself with. Being that he answered the woman himself, she felt no need to speak until she was addressed. “That depends. Would you like to entertain yourself a while?”


Narcissa had been confused with the situation at hand. Why had the four been locked out when the ball had started only a short while ago? She frowned, her giddiness turning into anticipation. It was obvious with her antsy moving, constantly twitching or fiddling with something while she stepped this way and that. It wasn’t until a rush of demons ushered themselves through the doors that the Doctor was able to grasp one of them. As confused as the monster was, she listened intently with a curious expression, eyes slightly wide. “Sounds like trouble!” A disregarded comment as the demon finally pulled himself away from the Doctor’s grasp.

The frankensteinian monster’s disappointment was as apparent as Loc’s, though she didn’t cry. “Poor Loc!” she exclaimed after Wilhelm’s confirming there would be no dancing. Narcissa hadn’t much else to say until she felt herself wrapped in the arm of the good Doctor. The mention of food was always something that could bring a smile to her face. Dancing could be done at any given moment! They didn’t need a ball to party. She would show Loc that later in the evening. After pizza! “Okay!” the monster agreed while she was walked toward the Roadster once again. The only place in town where they could really fill their pallets with pizza was the restaurant within the middle kingdom.

 

Razorbackwriter:  

The Blacksmiths shop

Things were getting interesting down in the Blacksmith’s shop. The unknown dark haired spider like demon watched on with heightened interest as the ice maiden was joined by one of Hell’s more powerful entities. It actually brought about an amused smile as she watched the bloody and skeletal form wrap itself around the girl, then speak with such an aristocratic tone. Oh yes….odds on it was one of the Seven Princes. What on earth they were doing down in the bowels of Greed Castle, instead of enjoying the sumptuous delights of the ball buffet was anyone’s guess. But it was safe to assume that the ice maiden was in cahoots with ‘tall dark and bloody’. Charlotte looked up at the helm of Beserker and the armor surprisingly glanced down at her. Odd that they both spoke the same tongue. But…there was a reason for that.

“OH-feah-seewae-lu HA-lueay-fe-peae.” (Translation : “Another Prince.”)

“EAY-see’z ah-kuk-kuk wahq ooahee oh-see-see-luoh-pe-see seewae-te. Qeayzw EAY woh-kuk seewoh-see zneay-de-de.” (Translation : “It’s odd how you attract them. Wish I had that skill.”)

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The suit of armor actually let out a strange hollowed laugh as Charlotte simply shrugged her shoulders playfully, then smiled at the new arrival.

“After a party favorite? Let me guess. You came to take what belonged to Mammon.” The spider maiden held her finger in the air, before twirling it towards the hellish looking armor. The statues that stood in the circle that surrounded the suit of armor all suddenly stood to attention. How…very strange. The spider demon glanced at the stone warriors with her tongue caught between her teeth. She was enjoying this. She then cupped a hand to the side of her cheek as if she was telling some great secret.

“They know royalty.” A sly wink and then she hopped down off the podium that Beserker was standing on. Charlotte took a step back and simply folded her arms.

“Well…go on. You do want him, don’t you?” Another broad flash of a smile and wobbled her head back and forth. “Before Greedy comes down from her tower.” Greedy being her nickname for Lydia.

Beserker turned his helm towards the pair and then went back to being inanimate. The red glow dissipated from his eye slits.

————————————————————————————————————————————————

~Outside Greed Castle~

All dressed up and no party to go to. How disappointing. No chance to show off Loc. No dances. No fine finger food. Ah well. Wilhelm did brighten when he felt Narcissa wrap her arm around him. It was a nice comforting gesture and brought about a shy smile. He could always count on the Hell’s kitchen crew to cheer him up when he was down. So it was decided. Pizza at that nice restaurant in town.

As the Doctor and his date swanned towards the Roadster, Loc hoisted Roxanne up over his shoulder as though he was carrying her out of a fire and trotted along behind the Doctor and Narcissa like a happy puppy.

~RB~

 

Nhal:  Peering over his shoulder the skeletal figure would turn his ‘face’ towards Kirsikka. His lanky figure twisting oddly as he did so. The air around him swirled slightly, still in a light burst of movement from his arrival and the floor echoed with drops of blood falling from his cloths.
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Listening to the words of the other demon in the room, his head turned over in her direction, his body following suit as he plodded towards her slowly, looking over her every feature whilest he moved. He was extremely tall, nearly seven feet at least, and yet his body was still slouched over as if he was carrying some heavy object upon his shoulders. His voice scratched at her eardrums roughly as he spoke, especially standing this close.
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Giving a soft shrug he walked back over between Kirsikka and the armored suit, wrapping a hand around her wrist and another on the shoulder of the armor. The suit gradually turning to dust, the tall dark figure and Kirsikka following close behind.
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Moo:  Having heard her accomplice’s answer, Kirsikka simply nodded. The miniature blade she had kept hidden before was gone from sight once again. She simply waited while she felt his hand wrap around her wrist, watching as he put his other on the shoulder of the armor. Her efforts to cut into the suit weren’t necessary after all, and it left her with a small exhale of what could have been relief. At least her Lord’s wishes were fulfilled one way or another, and he was sure to be pleased with the sight of the entire suit. Instead of some scrap metal cut away from its breast plate. By this time, the stranger’s words were nothing but a buzzing in Kirsikka’s ears. She only had to wait patiently before she was in her Lord’s sights once again.

 

Razorbackwriter:  

The Blacksmith’s shop

Charlotte listened to the skeletal tall demon speak with such a threatening tone. Odd really. His words were of how that they couldn’t be followed, and that once in the“Master’s possession that he welded absolute power over his charges or vessels. This was really of no consequence to Charlotte. It wasn’t her suit to begin with. She just…understood it a hell of a lot better than say Mammon, or the latest Mistress of Greed – Lydia. You see, Beserker was more of a curse than anything and naturally, Charlotte was not at all bothered that they wanted to take it. That is EXACTLY what Mammon had done, and we all know how that ended. Was this new Master so great that he or she…or it could change the will of the armor? Cause it to go against its nature? Break the curse of insanity that came with wearing it to battle?

The spider maiden watched on with an amused expression as the being took hold of the hand of the ice maiden, and then the Beserker – all of which crumpled into dust upon the floor. Charlotte cast her eyes down at it and then gave a light shoulder shrug. No doubt Lydia would be pissed at the loss of the suit, but Charlotte…..oh she had no ties to Greed, or any kingdom in hell for that matter. She served one, and Mazmezz was more than enough, thank you very much. What was she doing in Greed? You might ask. She was a Bebilith. One of Hell’s great demon hunters. Only thing was she chose her prey at will. In the humanoid form she was easier to deal with. As a full blown arachnid….that was another story.

The dust had not yet blown away, but Charlotte wasn’t hanging around to find out. Her crimson stained lips moved as she spoke an incantation, which caused her image to blur and then shimmer from view. Acting out her plane shifting technique which allowed her to move easily from realm to realm, or to a new place in Hell, the spider demon left the Blacksmith shop. Destination….unknown.

 

~RB~

 

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 Maze of Greed – Part Four : SS.

Hate and revenge can lead you down a very dark path.  This is what Scar and Mariela are about to find out.  What if they are not the only ones that are lost in the Maze of Greed?

Scene setting : Maze of Greed – Seven Sins series.

Co-written with Dessy and Artie.

 

Razorbackwriter:  “I was speaking all la de da. You know, fancy talk. I didn’t mean that you were mywitch…I…I…oh forget it.” Trying to explain his faux pas was just making him seem a bit silly. He didn’t mean to upset her, but by her body language the damage was done. When a woman folds her arms and gives you the look, its best to settle your bets and pay your dues. Even if you meant no harm by it. The alp much rather find a way to help the witch get far as he could from Lydia’s clutches, but now that they were in the maze, it was going to be easier said than done. Course, she interrupted his chain of thought when she mentioned that Lydia was far more evil than she first thought. Lydia had gone out of her way to earn the young witch’s trust. Becoming a woman who was nothing more than a fraud. Oh she seemed lovely, alright, but the clues were there. Like when she killed Warner, and used his blood as a sacrifice for the Devil. Did the Devil himself not say that she was an ambitious little bitch? This was of course all well before Scar arrived on the scene. And he was summoned from the book of shadows. Lydia’s grand plans for him were to keep Mariela out of harms way as she plotted the ball, and then what was to happen afterwards, when everything fell into place. Again, Scar knew that Mariela was the key to Gabriel’s curse or the removal of it. But Scar had taken Mariela into the maze first and well before Lydia was ready. That was why she appeared in the hand mirror held by the raven man.

“You…remember the hand mirror, don’t you?” Scar started, his face now perfectly serious. There was no joy or mischief in his voice. “There….is another one. Here….somewhere in the labyrinth. A bigger mirror…a looking glass.” It appeared the Alp knew a whole lot more about Lydia’s schemes than first imagined. “It’s not hers. It belongs to a Warlock. I think his name was…Raul, or something. Anyways, it is enchanted just like the one I broke.”

Scar fidgeted with his hat nervously as he bowed his head. “My understanding is that the Lydia in the mirror is in another dimension. It was why I thought….that it was safer out here, than in that hall.” Was the Alp starting to regret bringing the witch out into the maze? “As for….the price of using my hat as a way to escape, the price could be a greater one than you are prepared to pay. As I said before, magic always comes at a price.”

~RB~

 

Dessy:  Mariela stared at him, raising an eyebrow as the alp tried to explain himself… but miserably failed. “‘Fancy talk?’ That’s what it is?” she said, before she just ended up grinning when he told her to forget it. She didn’t know what had happened for Scar to start calling her “my witch” when she wasn’t his property. But if he was trying to earn brownie points, it wasn’t working. Not right now. Mariela was still a little unhappy that Scar never gave her an explanation. She also didn’t like whatever was going on in the maze. She was a little angry about that.

Mariela nodded her head when the hand mirror was mentioned. Her face turned into a frown when Scar grew serious. Most of the time he was always happy and playful, so seeing him so serious was weird. “What does the mirror have to do with anything?” she asked, putting her arms by her side. “And why did a warlock give it to her?” she then asked afterwards. She was so full of questions, and so curious.

Mariela watched him fidget with his hat, her green eyes watching him as he talked. “So, there are two Lydia’s? Why and how? And what does this “other Lydia”,” she made air quotes with her fingers. “…want to do with me?” she then pointed to herself. She listened to him again, and she thought that Scar was regretting taking her out to the maze. That’s what it sounded like, at least. “What do you mean “a greater one than I won’t be prepared to pay”? Scar, I have no idea what you are talking about…” she sighed, and gave a roll of her eyes. “I know magic always comes with a price! Everything comes with a price!” she said, annoyed, and moving her arms around the air dramatically.

 

Razorbackwriter:  Scar grimaced as Mariela’s anger started to get the better of her. Here she was, stuck in a horrid maze with the Alp, when she could be back in the ball room. Though little did they realize just what had gone down within those walls. Scar certainly didn’t know….not yet. All he knew was that when he took Mariela from the ball room, he genuinely feared for her life. Some of Hell’s most powerful beings were in that room, and with murder taking place, unruly fights…well, Scar figured some of them might succumb to the blood lust and attack a pretty thing like Mariela. She totally took his words the wrong way, and he felt like she was scolding him for it. It really was just an honest mistake, and yet he could feel the rise of her anger. She was becoming more and more animated. Flailing her arms about her wildly. His answers had only made her want to ask more questions. For example, what did the mirror have to do with anything? Why would a Warlock give it to her?

The alp was starting to feel drained. He had no idea that Mariela would be so damn curious about…well everything. His job was to keep her in the dark. That was what Lydia had set for him. But after the wonderful times he spent with the witch, he had lost sight of what was required.

“Why would a Warlock do a deal with the Demon of Ambition….and Greed? Why do you think?” Now he had an exasperated tone. Scar had only overheard the pair plotting, but not actually met the Warlock properly. “He obviously thought there was something to be gained. I don’t know….maybe…maybe…” the Alp stuttered. Racking his brain of possible conclusions. “There must be…a damn good reason. Maybe they had a common enemy. You know, revenge and hate can lead you down a very dark path.” He glanced around him and then he suddenly had a clue. “What if….there is someone in this maze, beside us? What if, she let him use the maze…for a purpose other than her own?’

Perhaps the Alp was on to something, but the train of thought left his mind when Mariela again quizzed the hat and the price that would be paid for using the magic within. The colour drained from his face, as he stepped right up to her and went to grab her shoulders. Staring at her he said softly.

“Imagine a place where you had no power, no magic. The hat is a portal in a way. You could use it and save yourself.”Scar turned his head away from her as he closed his eyes. Was his love for her so much that he was willing to make the ultimate sacrifice?

~RB~

 

Dessy;  Mariela took a deep breath and put her arms by her side. She was getting angry. This entire thing was just frustrating her in many ways. From being dragged out of the ballroom, to being in a terrifying maze, to this whole confusing mess with the two Lydia’s and the two mirrors. It was frustrating the young witch. All she wanted was for the entire mess to be over, and that’s it. She rested her arms at her sides, watching Scar as he spoke.

“Why would a Warlock do a deal with the Demon of Ambition….and Greed? Why do you think?”

This caused Mariela to give a shrug of her shoulders. She didn’t know. It could be anything. But Lydia and this warlock were obviously working together for something. For what, Mariela didn’t know. “I know there must be a “damn good reason”, but what is that reason?” she asked. The witch was too curious for her own good – asked so many questions. “Yeah… “Hate” is starting to lead me down the path where I’m going to destroy the next living creature that appears in this damn maze.” she grumbled, putting her hands on her hips. At Scar’s next words, Mariela’s eyes widened. “What purpose would that be? And if there is someone else in this maze, then we have to find them, Scar. We can’t leave them in the dangers of the maze.” she spoke, now determined to save whoever this person was from the terror of the maze. She wasn’t going to just leave them here.

All of a sudden, the color drained from Scar’s face when she mentioned the hat again. He grabbed her shoulders, staring at her as he spoke, and Mariela’s green eyes stared into his red one’s. “If losing my magic is the price I have to pay, then I’m not doing it.” she spoke, but watched turn away from her and close his eyes. “My magic is the only part of my family I have left, and I fully intend on keeping it.” she spoke, crossing her arms now. “And I never said I wanted to go to another dimension. Because I don’t.” she said, but her face softened. “There’s something you’re not telling me about this, Scar. I can see it in your face.” she said. She took one of her hands and placed it on the Alp’s shoulder. “What is it?” she then asked, tilting her head to the side as her other hand lay by her side.

 

Artie:  Blackness, then slight light. More blackness, then light again.. Bandit’s eyes would flutter open slowly, laboriously, her head pounding as though she’d been knocked out. What a hell of a dream.. Though, she would soon find it wasn’t much of a dream. Her wrists felt sore underneath her, her whole body aching with a dull and burning pain. She would push herself off of the grass, attempting to take in her surroundings through a fog of pain in her head. Her eyes blinked again, lids heavy and yet not fully opened yet. A light groan escaped her lips, a tired look on her face that had a prominent bruise on her cheek, in the midst of a healed but dirty cut. How it had gotten there, she couldn’t tell. Blonde hair that was stained brown fell into her face, furthering to cloud her vision. With a light huff the female would manage to sit herself up, reaching to her neck to find no collar… a clear ploy of some sort. She was sure it had merely moved itself to be around an ankle, but she wasn’t sure. At the moment, all of her limbs felt painfully dead and dull.

“Hello?” The word formed on her lips, but her throat was so dry all that came out was a soft croak, more along the lines of ‘grnoa?’ She herself could only barely hear the noise come from herself – it was so painfully quiet of a noise. This was the effect of little water, the burning that steadily rose a direct symptom of this dry throat. She would lick her lips, but unsuccessfully, as her tongue had little moisture to begin with. As she began to somewhat focus, yet still weakened, Bandit would gaze down at herself. She was fortunate to be back into clothes, her prior clothing.. It was in the same dirty condition, with a minor tear on the hem of her shirt or pants leg, but otherwise they seemed to be unaffected. Where am I? Pure willpower would force her to crawl to a hedge of the maze across from her, sitting up but un-moving as she appeared almost dead, eyes barely open from the energy crawling here had required. Her head slumped a bit as her eyes closed, the sounds of something in the distance.. voices, maybe? She couldn’t be sure if they were friend or foe, but she would try to not make herself known, knowing an enemy wouldn’t be fended off if she was found..

Last Warning – SS.

The party had now broken down into a series of fights.  Royals against the Anarchy Division & The Princess of Greed taking on William the Templar, while a thief has snuck into the underground Blacksmith shop, to try and steal Beserker.  The Ball is nothing more than a showdown of Holy versus the Evil of Hell.

Scene setting :  The Masquerade Ball of Greed.  Seven Sins Series.

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

 

Zetta:  The space around Blitz began to visibly move, as if he was cloaked with a clear, thick barrier. This was the manipulation of torrential energy that would allow for instantaneous movement. With the charge set he was already proposed to make a move by the time the knightly demon slayer had dispatched of the princess’ little projectile, but he needed to assure of a few things before stepping in. She seemed determined to put him down obviously for ruining her gathering, the man would have casually left this situation to it’s own natural happenings but he had already taken interest in the killer. His option to walk had left the moment that of a half-god looked upon him, he briefly considered that his target would know full on what he was. Having already distinguished himself as a very capable assassin he was positive that he had some sort of decoy, unless he really was just that strong to turn his back on demons and confidently walk out after revealing himself. For this; He turned to the two still behind him just a few feet away, hearing their voices. One man standing straight before another, he had a firm stance but lacked any sort of special power beyond his own dna. The apparent guard had black hair and his face was flushed in all red, obviously blushing. The one being guarded was stronger, him being a true demon, and at this high of a place he was positive he had just witnessed a third prince.

He barely noticed them before from how close they were.. Maybe they were homosexuals, it didn’t matter much though, in this time he noticed a group of hands scaling to the ceiling of this place. ‘Twas an odd sight, but not really unusual for someone like him and so he spoke casually to the black-haired male guarding the white-haired male. “Please, I might not be able to hold back if I get excited. If that happens make sure this area at least stays in tact.” He said so with a light grin, bearing his teeth to reveal his growing angst because he was about to get locked into a real party. But the man had no time to wait for a response from the skeptical tuxedo wearing guard. So by the ending of his sentence, his entire form was gone. Pushing aside space and time to instantly transport himself to a few inches in front of the assassin. Arms folded, eyes shut still. Without making a single motion, he mentally amassed a force of hundreds of thousands of molecules for a gigantic wave bearing telekinetic strength matching that of five metric tons. He aimed this force at the entire upper body of the man in iron-clad before him, doing so as to not also send the weakened demons sprawling across the room as well in this simplistic but powerful attack while simultaneously knocking away the falling chandelier. If this ended well, he could simply take that as payment, he figured. However it would be sent flying as well, in the direction of the man he spoke to moments ago, who would listen to him this time to protect the other guy at the very least.

This type of attack would also serve to potentially disarm his target, a force capable of knocking Blitz himself off of his feet could certainly make it harder to hold onto the sword and shield or even diminish his fighting capability using his fingers to withstand all of the force from the resonating metal. Despite it’s given tactical advantage being that the user did not have to waste any effort on a wide-scale move, it did mentally strain him and so he could not afford a physical attack at the same time. It gave a defender a short time to respond, when coupled with Blitz’ teleportation, but could still be heard before the instant he attacked at a very low pitch sound as he literally propelled matter itself. Also seen as the moving matter would quickly push the air forward as well, adopting a scene of violent turbulence by the time it would make it to the assassin. If successful the force would send him to the feet of the Princess of Greed, likely putting her in a weakened position if Excalibur was near.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Cecil heeded every word spoken from Gabriel, as he had his back turned despite bearing such a flustered grill. His face was lit was intense nervousness, and to his surprise she chose no path of offense against him just yet. The royal guard’s heart beat rose slightly still, in light anticipation of such an act when they returned back home. He was thrown off from his concentration when the one with pink-hair began speaking to him, originally Cecil was only concerned with keeping Gabriel safe, but in this way he would also be able to utilize his skills to serve her even indirectly. To that he gave the other man a nod, signifying his understanding of his request and the situation then similarly agreeing to help him, only to properly service his love. But he would not act without Her actual consent however. “Is it okay for me to take the place where that princess introduced herself?” He asked to confirm whether or not he’d actually listen to that other guy. Doing so timidly since Lady Gabriel seemed frustrated already, and he understood her, while not being a full demon himself – to the point that he felt hatred towards holiness he did become a sort of evil soul with his time spent here and so had a sort of disdain towards anything outside of the new norm for himself. For the sake of maintenance he had removed his hands from practically tied behind his back to being set firm on either side of his body. Now he was ready for any defensive measure necessary.

It was not long after that when the chandelier in the middle of the room fell down, then was quickly launched at the two of them. The rate it was going it would have become a socket in the wall above them and likely through the building itself, projected with such force that if it hit someone it would likely turn them into a mangled corpse. The blunt tips of each light would burn against the skin before scraping off bone marrow and finally smashing them into the ground. Cecil moved instinctively.. The thing was too close to the two of them, he created webbing between his fingers and extended only his hard out to catch the flying object before it hit anything, enlarging the shape of it as well to keep the surrounding scenery unharmed. His augmented strength served him well, halting all momentum from his catch like a professional baseball player. Though from the force alone the back of his hand still fell limp afterwards, but the burning sensation of such a fast moving big object was mostly resisted, only a searing path now coursing through that entire limb.

 

Nhal:  Belphegor’s clawed hand clenched in irritation as his attention went from the man floating above the floor to the large chandelier which was now flying across the room. His body quickly began to melt away into a dark purple wisp which would bolt next to Lydia and whisper noises towards her. “Excuse me for cutting in… But I’m going to be dealing with this meddler.” flying from her side the wisp suddenly exploded into a black cloud which moved in Blitz’s direction as it formed a clawed hand, slamming into him and wrapping its fingers around him rapidly. As it continued on its trajectory, the black crystal coating the wall which blocked its path cracked and split open, allowing the black hand and its unwilling passenger to be sent crashing through a closed window and into the palace courtyard. As soon as the hand was free, the crystal wall closed sealed itself, preventing any further entrance or exit from the grand hall.

As the hand sailed over the courtyard, it adjusted slightly, dropping Blitz towards the ground before molting away and swirling down, reforming into the ghostly form of Belphegor a couple of yards away from him. “Don’t you know that its rude for someone to interfere with the battles of a demon prince?… Especially a child such as yourself.” Tucking his hands behind his back he cocked his head to the side slightly. “Or could it be you were simply guarding an accomplice? Well, Anarchy Division? Which is it, a poorly made business opportunity? Or just sheer stupidity?” He rolled his fingers behind his back as he drifted to the side slowly, observing the half god with great detail.

Moo:  No response from the Berserker armor. Kirsikka frowned while she tilted her head, looking it over. Perhaps taking the entire armor would allow her to test it a bit more…not to mention impress her Lord. Her eyes scanned the room once more before she stepped onto the platform, breast to breast with the armor in the small space left for her to stand. Carve away a sample before attempting to take the entire suit. That sounded best in regards of actually accomplishing her goal. If something were to happen, she couldn’t leave empty handed. The item she had been dawdling with in the ballroom poked from between her fingers, the silver reflecting dully thanks to the musty room’s lack of light. Kirsikka pressed it to the shoulder of the armor and applied force until it began cutting into the metal. Her guard seemed to just stare off into space, standing idle in front of one of the twelve statues lining the walls for the meantime, as she had no orders for him.


Gabriel had been so taken with annoyance and hatred that she barely regarded Cecil and Blitz as they spoke. With his question, her head turned after a moment of hesitation. It became obvious rather quickly something was bound to happen while the pink haired man teleported between the Templar and Lydia, underneath the chandelier that would obviously crash down before long. “Yes, do as you see fit,” she answered quite quickly. She herself moved to a safer place, out of the way where Cecil stood for the time being. As it was, the pink haired man most likely had ideas of his own…and for him to share specifically with Cecil any spot of information, it meant trouble may as well have been headed their way. Even if she hadn’t bothered to listen to them previously.

Despite the princess’ dangerous mixture of emotions, she stayed put. It would have been more entertaining, had it not been a holy being to cause the trouble. The situation was more chaotic the longer Lydia let it drag on. Sloth was much faster to react to the situation at hand, and obviously felt irritated as Gabriel did. The two were soon out of the room in a rush, leaving the rest of them in some weird silence. Gabriel looked over to Cecil as he held onto the massive chandelier, relaxing her tensed stance before approaching him. She rested her hand over his, which was warm to the touch. Hot, actually. “Your body can be used so creatively.” She pushed on the chandelier away from him until it crashed to the floor. “…As much as you’ve misbehaved this evening…you have done a decent job here.”


Astarte somewhat smiled while she noticed Blitz charging up for his battle. It was obvious the demigod was geared up for a fight, even after having had that spar earlier in the day. His healing was impressive enough that he was already battle-ready once again. Already, she was moving through the crowd…and much more easily now that everyone had stopped dancing, all eyes on the holy man and other more powerful demons crowding to the area. It wasn’t surprising that the closer she got, the more strain she felt on her muscles. Those in the front were already kneeling, their bodies practically pressed into the ground from the power of the Excalibur and other notable items the man was bearing. But this was something similar to being in Elysium for Astarte herself; she had withstood it nicely enough to still spar with Blitz. And he himself would be fine facing the holy man due to his being a demigod. There was no worry or doubt in the hellcat’s mind as she watched the chandelier fall and suddenly bolt in a different direction, only to be caught by a demon who seemed to be close to one of the new princes.

While that in itself was impressive, her eyes hadn’t strayed for long, before the prince of Sloth was throwing himself in Blitz’ direction. The two wound up being brought through the door way too quickly for her to react physically. Astarte would be sealed inside the ball room with the rest of the guests, waiting for Blitz to return to her side. So he would have to fight without her to cheer him on visibly, but if he knew her well enough, he would know that she had faith he would be completely fine on his own, like always…

 

Temp:  William knew that there were more than just demons among the crowd, but he really didn’t expect non-demons to be hostile towards him. This assumption was indeed a mistake on his part. Both the Princess of Greed and an unknown being had decided to attack after he made short work of the first attack. At first there was the chandelier that was dropping towards him. This wasn’t something he was very worried about though. He knew that Sanctus would protect him from the object, as well as the fact Excalibur would cut through it like paper. Before there was even time to react to the chandelier, the unknown being appeared before him and shot forth a tremendous amount of force. William was no ordinary being, but even that fact meant little to this amount of force. Thankfully, William was not alone in his quest for revenge. The Armor of Grant would prove more than sufficient, especially when combined with Sanctus. William pulled Sanctus up and blocked to force from making contact with his upper body, while the rest of his body was protected solely by Grant. The force was still far too powerful for William to be completely unaffected by though, and as such he was pushed backwards. Once the force had passed he stumbled backwards, and then rolled back even further and away from the Princess of Greed. Once he was back up on his feet he turned his attention back towards the Princess, who was obviously still very angry with him. In order to make it perfectly clear that this wasn’t a fight she should be picking, he extended his Angelic wings, which would also reveal his aura. This obviously would show that not only was he some sort of assassin clad in holy items, but that he was also of Angelic origins. Once his wings were out completely, he pointed Excalibur directly at the Princess. “Last…Warning…” If she continued this, then she would lose much more than she likely thought she would by letting him go.

 

Razorbackwriter:  Beserker stood completely still. Just as you would expect a suit of armor to do. Kirsikka had no power in the Kingdom of Greed, nor did she know the secret to unlocking the evil that dwell within the metal plates. All around her the stone statues stood in readiness but for what? What Kirsikka was not aware of, was that the podium on which Beserker stood was pressure plated. In other words, the moment the weight changed on the dias – it would bring Beserker and the stone statues to life. Course, it would not happen instantly. That was the beauty of it. No, let the fool who dare tamper with the suit of armour learn the hard way. So, while she was pressed chest to chest with the armor and applied force to start and cut away a piece for a souvenir, the eyes behind the visor illuminated into a sickening shade of gold and red. The fingers on the gauntlet flexed and then with the speed that was completely unnatural, it tore out and gripped Kirsikka by the hair, pulling her head back so she would have no choice but to look up and into those fiery eyes. Each of the statues stood to attention with a loud cracking sound that resonated throughout the blacksmith shop. Dust falling away from their shoulders as their heads all turned towards the Beserker armor and it’s captive.

She could try screaming for help…..but who would hear her over the ruckus coming from above.

Lydia stood in what was the wreckage of her beautiful ball room. Guests all scattered, royals all holding back for fear of the angelic being who now stood opposite Lydia, his sword Excalibur pointed at her in one final show down. A last warning, spoken in that broken language. The smell of death wafted up towards Lydia’s nostrils as she looked at Belphegor, Gabriel, Cecil, and then Blitz – the one from Anarchy division who had also gotten in the way of the Princess’s assault against William. The silence now would be broken by the sound of Lydia’s heels as she walked over the broken remnants of the chandelier – another casualty of the ball. Though the sight of the angelic wings now unfurled and proud was enough to have others quake in fear, Lydia put on the performance of her life. Bathed in the holy aura, which caused her skin to prickle, blister and peel, she summoned all her courage to stare the angelic being down.

The Princess of Greed had finally gotten to see the true natures of the attending Princes of Hell and she came to realize one very important fact. None…acted true to their name sake. Not even Gabriel. Princess of Wrath….bullshit. She…he…didn’t even enter the fight, and her simpering man servant appeared to do all the work.

Lydia lifted her chin proudly, the sword’s tip glistening as it was primed to be pushed through her chest if the angelic being dared. Gritting her teeth in a bid to starve off the pain that she was experiencing, she uttered in a very menacing growl.

“The party is over….for you. Get out.”

Violent jade green eyes burrowed into William’s. If he was true to his word, he would lower his sword and turn to leave. If not….Lydia would pay the ultimate price.

“ALL OF YOU. GET OUT!”

The Princess’s raised voice would ring throughout the hall. Her silhouette now changing in it’s colour as her skin continued to burn.

~RB~

 

 

Holy Hell – SS.

 

Furious that the Ball was now in a state of utter chaos, the Princess decides to face the menace head on, but not without a bit of help – or interference. Continuation from Ballroom Blitz.

Scene setting – The Masquerade Ball of Greed, Seven Sins Series.

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

 

Zetta:  His mask was taken off before he had gotten his answer, but Cecil was never impatient when it came to his love. When her hand lifted to remove his face-cover he rose his head up some so that it would be an effortlessly slip-off in place of a tugging. It was a light desire to be on the reverse end of this, however he was sure she would hit him, he was here representing Gabriel and had deliberately ignored the other princess. But he had only been ensuring his own lady’s complacency and overall safety.

Cecil felt almost restless at this point, his arms were at his sides and he practically clawing at his own leggings. It was disgusting to see someone randomly approach a Prince, and in this case a Princess, that man- who had just come flying from the ceiling had no concern about rankings apparently. His pink-hair signified at least to a small desire that he wanted to be different, and this was the second time he had seen self-propelled flight. It was impossible to tell what type of strength that one had, but with his appearance he evidently thought very highly of himself. He did not even speak with any honorifics as one should when speaking to the upper class, the submissive guard had done so for so long he could not even fancy a different approach. Even now, giving his lady nicknames he maintains a strong sense of respect towards her. When she had spoke to him, asking if he would dare to question her his eyes spread widely. “I wouldn’t! Princess, forgive me, with me here you need not lift a finger.” He said, slightly flustered while turning from her, standing before her highness with his hand wrapped around the wrist of his other arm.

He cracked a light smile, perhaps his time would come soon.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

The look on the assumed Princess’ face was hilarious, lacking any sort of restraint, Blitz chuckled at the first sign of disdain shown. At first a strain of the neck, thinner than anything he could have named off the top of his head broadened in the light of the room. He was sure that once Anarchy Division was properly credited, he could easily use his senses in accordance with time-space to find the one person who had contact with all of those killed in the room. While obviously the large gathering of people would ensure that everyone touched at least five others here, none of them could have made it to several parts of the room while dancing.. Her verbal response would have made him laugh if he did not already release tension from his prior chuckle, she had continued, actually answering his questions instead of getting to the point. “Don’t get hung up on the details, or something bad might happen, just say yes.” He said simply, money was worthless to someone who could create. The man was more focused on getting fame after all, and deduced instantly that while they spoke, there was likely to be another murder. Infamy loved taking action in the midst of turmoil. Everyone had a singular focus right now, too. Then the worst possibility came to pass, an intruder on the conversation, just another presence to bide the killer more time to maneuver.

Unwilling to persist on a matter he previously didn’t care for though, he listened to what the man had to say. He could tell though that this one was another VIP, the moment they’d come within feet of each other he was analyzed thoroughly. “You’re pretty strong old man! Alright, show me what’cha got, just try to hurry.” Or something bad might happen.. He didn’t add that in, forsaking repetition. Black coated the ceiling first and moved to swiftly cover everywhere else, while the tactic seemed brilliant, someone like Eren would have laughed at the smokescreen provided for his teleportation. Blitz was prepared for something along those lines, so now that he had the darkness as a sort of cover as well he could work to prevent such a retreat, and if needed, his own instantaneous movement. Before anything else happened though, he heard the sound of fast moving metal, this moved at the same time as the shadows cloaked everywhere. Blitz shut his eyes, with no light in the room his other senses would become more dominant, his head was turned towards the assassin already while the body was hit and just about to hit the floor.

The murderer was bold, but from where he was Blitz was unable to tell his strength. That made it interesting, since the royalty seemed more eager to act than the surrounding guards, the demigod folded his arms he had always considered simply destroying the princes and conquer Hell on his own. Now that he had a decent gathering of what the two could do, he could now visually identify their capabilities. If he went on any type of offensive in a place like this he would bring down the castle in a few minutes, to that end he would wait for an opportunity to try and strike a critical blow.

Nhal:  Belphegor shook his head slowly as the assassin revealed himself, upset at the fact that he had ruined what little fun the prince could have squeezed from the event. “What a waste… But I suppose it cannot be helped, feel free to destroy him princess, I shall keep these walls up for as long as I remained entertained by the battle. ” drifting away from the center of the room Belphegor crossed his arms and watched carefully, observing both the combatants closely as he grumbled softly to himself.

Moo:  The thudding of the bass from the music above was adding to the eerie feeling of the room. But it wasn’t anything Kirsikka couldn’t handle as she walked casually behind the hypnotized guard. She gave a light sigh while she looked along the dusty stone walls, cobwebs well gathered throughout the place. It was obvious someone had been through the area before though; a good sign as any. It was barely lit either, until they wound up in the room she’d been searching for. Her expression gave way to a small smile as she looked over the suit on its little showcase. The fact that the room was unguarded aside from the man in front of her was enough to raise suspicion…so her guard remained up as she gave the man a small push at his shoulder. He led her closer to the stand while she observed the statues around the room. So as she stopped in front of the suit, she put her hands on her hips and looked it up and down. “Do you speak? Or were those guards really insane…”


Gabriel felt more satisfaction than anything in seeing Cecil’s eyes widen, the flustered expression showing plainly on his face before he turned away. “There is no forgiveness in Hell.” She spoke casually while she stepped closer, her hand well on her little cane she’d created. Lydia had lost any bit of sensibility at this point, aside from understanding she didn’t have to pay to find good help. Not that it was necessary. With the sound of someone’s head being split in two, the entire crowd’s attention would cast onto a single man. One who was apparently an outsider to hell, and not just the greed kingdom alone… his Holy armor and weaponry could be recognized by everyone. Even petty demons knew of the Excalibur. How the wielder of the sword had found his way here was what baffled anyone. Or why he chose to come. It actually pissed Gabriel off the instant she recognized him for a Templar. Her crimson hues widened while she bristled nearly as much as Lydia had. And at this rate… who cared if it was Lydia’s problem, or if Gabriel wanted to see her party crumble to bits… This man was an idiot and the sight of his brilliant armor and equipment just struck her nerves. She began to lift her cane as though it were her sword, as she could actually turn it into such in a blink…but she paused and forced herself to lower it with an exhale. Even as she glared, she knew better than to jump into the middle. Otherwise she might kill more than just the Templar, and nobody needed the trouble Lydia could reap if she so wished. Plus, Gabriel was still a man, and still needed to be changed back. It didn’t stop her glaring eyes from watching the scene play out, anticipating blood to spray from either party.


Astarte hadn’t had anything to do this entire time. The situation had become dire…and the way the princess had reacted to Blitz wasn’t exactly the most positive. She really did palm her face this time while Lydia’s voice echoed around the room, repeating something about payment. This woman was definitely full of dramatics, but Blitz certainly wasn’t caring any. Did her ears really pick up a chuckle from him. It brought a small grin to her lips… But now as the prince was offering a helping hand, everything was just lost. Not that it would have mattered…the culprit made himself known as he pulled his blade free and stuck it into some demon’s head, yanking it free before revealing himself. This was the part where the room was filled with gasps, everyone basically recognizing his holy armor and especially Excalibur. Astarte herself was a demon, just like everyone else in the room. Besides one person. She looked at Blitz while he observed the scene, the princess having gotten completely pissed that she attacked the intruder herself. Would he jump in?

 

Temp:  There were a great deal of frightened faces surrounding William. The demons were obviously confused as to how and why someone like him was here. The fact that he carried Excalibur was probably the main cause of panic though. Almost everything in this room was very vulnerable to the holy blade, as well as William himself. The demons closest to him were all on their knees simply due to the aura that he was emanating. There was clear aggression within the room, mostly coming from the royalty, but that was to be expected. Obviously, this event had been a big deal to the Kingdom of Greed, and he had single-handedly ruined it. Honestly, he had expected more demons to be foolish and straight up attack up, but instead of many there was only one. The Princess of Greed was obviously furious, and decided to start attacking him. Her fire-ball was quickly blocked by Sanctus, which he had pulled up to block with. His grip on both sword and shield tightened as he turned his head to look at the area around him. Guards would likely attack soon, and with them anyone else that felt bold enough to confront him. No matter what these demons may have thought, he wasn’t after a single one of them. All of his targets that were among the attendees of this party were already dead. The only thing William intended to do at this point was to leave this place. “Not Target…No Conflict…Fighting Foolish.” The awkward broken words were spoken loud enough for everyone to hear, though he had a feeling they would do little for him. Demons were never quick to lower their aggression, and he wastechnically one of their greatest enemies. Regardless, he actually turned his back on the people in the room and began making his way towards the nearest exit. Just because his back was turned didn’t mean he was vulnerable though. He was actually very much anticipating a violent reaction. Quite honestly, he’d prefer to leave this place without shedding any more blood.

 

Razorbackwriter:  Scores of the party guests, the elite members of hell closest to the assassin were on their knees – bedazzled and stricken by the force of the holy sword’s power. Held tightly in the grip of William’s hand he was a danger to all present, and dressed for war as opposed to a society ball. Lydia’s attempt to knock the blade clean from the assassin’s hand was foiled by the skilled wielding of the Templar. The Princess of Greed lowered her charged hand slowly, as she realized that this mode of attack was useless against him. Lydia’s lips puckered and with narrowing eyes she heard the assassin exclaim in a broken voice that she was not the target, and that he had no intent to cause conflict with her directly. Fighting him, was in his mind a foolish action.

Easy for him to say, when your reputation amongst the Princes of Hell was at stake. Already the Prince of Sloth had told Lydia to finish him, and while Gabriel looked deeply annoyed by the Templar’s presence he or she made no move to enter what was Lydia’s fight.

“Don’t you dare turn your back on me, you coward.” The Princess’s voice was filled with a bravado and a sense of pride. She was still the Princess of Ambition, and did not want to lose her place in Hell. If others saw her as weak, and backing out of a fight, then they may well try to remove her and destroy Greed entirely. A low and guttural growl emitted from the very pit of her stomach as she took a single step forward. Her darkened locks loosening from the delicate binding to form a windswept frame around her face. A quick glance upward as the Templar had his back to her and she saw the massive chandelier that was lit and hanging over head. If she could not make a direct hit upon him with her powers, then maybe it would take something a little bigger. Lydia closed her eyes, as she willed the yoke of the damned. The walls of the ballroom shimmered with a greenish glow as many hands slid out from the walls, and veered upward….higher and higher till reaching the chandelier. The metal screws that held the chandelier in place, whizzed at great speed, till the only thing holding the chandelier up was one small bolt. It swayed back and forth precariously, right over the Templar’s head.

“There will be no escape for you!” At the final word spoken, the chandelier plummeted from the roof heading straight for the Templar as the Princess bore a broad grin. So, she was about to lose a precious and dazzling ornament, but knocking the Templar out from above would more than compensate that.

~RB~