A High Price to Pay – SS.

 

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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


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

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

 

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

 

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

“Decision…Wise…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~RB~

 

 

The Unveiling – SS.

 

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

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

 

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


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

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


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

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

 

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

 

Razorbackwriter:  

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

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

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

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

“SCAR!!!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

https://i2.wp.com/i47.tinypic.com/2d1tws8.gif

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

 

~RB~

 

 

 

 

Curses and charms – SS.

 

Scene setting : The Masquerade Ball of Greed.

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

 

Krystal:  Maya managed to sneak herself and Allister in via a baker’s van as it was bringing new supplies into the castle. As the driver got out, they made their escape, ducking into the open loading bay doors. They were lucky enough not to be seen, and they made it into a quiet hallway on the third level of the castle.

Music could be heard resonating around the castle walls. It was very loud, and Allister was giddy with anticipation. “This is going to be exciting…! C’mon, lets go find some fancy clothes in one of the rooms!” Allister grabbed Maya’s hand as they began sprinting down the hallway.

Maya’s hood flew off as he dragged her with him. “Hey, slow down…!” she hissed, trying to stay quiet. They found a room and ducked into it, closing the door behind them.“Perfect. Now lets hope there are some nice things in here…” Maya went to a wardrobe and began digging. She pulled out a black tuxedo and tossed it to Allister. “Try this on,” she said, hardly even glancing at it on the hanger.

Allister caught it before it whacked him in the face, and eyed it up. It was laced with some nice silver fabric, complete with a frilly under-shirt, a choker, and a vest. The pants were simply black dress pants accompanied with shiny black shoes. Allister nodded approvingly before going to another side of the room to try it on. “Keep your back turned, don’t peek~” he teased as he pulled off his shirt.

Maya scoffed, mostly ignoring him. She abandoned the wardrobe and headed toward the opposite side of the room of Allister, opening up a closet. She gasped quietly, and stepped inside, closing the door behind her with a soft ‘click’ of the door’s jamb.

Allister heard it, and as he finished putting himself together, he turned around, finding Maya gone from the room. “Maya?”he called, heading toward the closet.

“I’m in here, just hang on,” she said, sounding a little troubled. Something about a god damned zipper and her hair could be heard as mumbles on the inside.

After a few long moments, the door opened, and out of the darkness of the closet, Maya stepped out wearing a red silk dress complete with black frills and black jewelled patterns. She also held a mask in her hand that perfectly matched the outfit. The servants of the castle sure did have classy clothing. She stepped into the room and did a small twirl. Her hair was down and against her back, curling elegantly along her pale skin. “How… do I look?” Maya asked Allister, her blue eyes shining through the mask she wore over her face.

Allister’s eyes widened from behind his own mask, and he opened it to say something, but it just closed again. After a pause, he cleared his throat and held out his arm, a smile spreading across his lips. He’d never seen her look so… astonishing. “You look gorgeous, Maya. Lets get going so we don’t miss the fun.”

Maya took his arm, a slight blush forming on her face. “Thank you, Allister. You’re too kind.” With that, they made their way down to the main area to join in the fun. They made their way down the stairs and joined in with all the other masquerade folk, blending in quite nicely. Tonight would definitely be an interesting one.

 

Temp:  So far everything had been going rather smoothly as far as the party went. William’s infiltration was flawless and his mingling was working out fairly well, despite his issues with talking. Keeping things short and avoiding contact with others was proving to be very successful. There were more and more people showing up, some of which were fairly powerful. Regardless, he was a being that they were all weak against, and that’s not counting his arsenal. His targets were all around him and doing various things, but almost all of them were in perfect view of others. The first kill he was going to carry out would have to be as subtle as possible. As he made his way through the room he quickly took notice of Maya and Allister, something that immediately worried him. There was no way they could recognize him in his disguise, but seeing them in such a dangerous place was troubling. Even though they were here, he would carry out his mission. His first kill would be a rather low end noble who was on his list, and luckily was in a crowd of people. With a series of poisoned needles in hand, all he had to do was bump into someone and stick them with one, the rest would follow shortly after. This was exactly what he did, as he approached the noble he ‘accidentally’ nudged him with his shoulder, immediately apologizing afterwards. The room was busy and full of people, so accidents like this were to be expected. What wasn’t expected was said person dying shortly after. Since the noble had been surrounded by people, figuring out who might have had a hand in his death would be fairly difficult, if anyone even cared that is. The man wouldn’t die right away though, and instead would likely just show signs of fatigue before succumbing to the poison completely. The man was as good as dead. One down…how many more to go?

 

 

Dessy:  “Why do you sound so jealous, Scar?” Mariela asked jokingly, turning her head to watch Lydia walk down with the raven who turned into a male. Scar sounded like he was jealous, but with Scar, it was no telling, really. “She made an entrance, that’s for sure.” she said, watching Lydia walk down the stairs. Mariela looked at Scar when he spoke about “something being bound to happen”, then made the comment about people asking her to dance, and she gave a shrug. “I highly doubt that, Scar. But, thanks.” she said, giving a light smile. She’ll admit, Scar had a way with words when it came to charming women. Scar was also not as bad as Mariela originally thought he was going to be.

 

Nhal:  

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There is no need to be so formal child…” His center eye began to glow again lightly as he gazed in her direction, observing her outfit. “An interesting choice to say the least..” He turned his long neck and looked around the large room slowly. “I am yet to find our lady of the hour… Do you suppose you could point out our new Greed if you spotted her?…” He spoke softly before releasing a shallow yawn, lifting a hand lightly to scratch at his shoulder. The smog that was his lower body whisped around slowly, blowing around and twisting, fading like smoke.

 

Moo:  Kirsikka’s gaze turned until landing on Sloth once more. A brow began to perk, but she quickly normalized her expression again. “Interesting? I planned it carefully to impress you, my Lord.” Perhaps rather daring of her to say. Though, if she were trying to impress Belphegor, it was likely she needed something more dark in nature. Being in white now, she looked like a frost princess. Almost as if she didn’t belong in Hell at all. More like she was an angel forced to stay here; until one came to know her personality.

At the mention of the lady of the hour, Kirsikka’s gaze turned up toward the top of the stairs, where a woman happened to come into view. Talk about perfect timing. “I think she’s just made her entrance,” the female replied with a bit of a smirk. “What a lovely woman… Don’t you think?” Her head turned once more to smile at her Lord, awaiting his response. Knowing what she looked like at least made this easier. Now she could keep track of where the woman moved while they went through their own motions, as planned before the party.

[Short post is short. slkjf]


So, the one and only princess of greed had finally arrived. Gabriel gazed at the beauty from her position on the floor, a broad smile placed over her lips. “I would expect nothing less,” she commented with a chuckle. A black raven swooped in and perched itself near her, and morphed into that of a handsome man, Gabriel couldn’t withhold a scoff. Skip the pleasantries; she wanted to meet this woman and come to know the new head of greed. It seemed the woman was already enjoying herself, with a bounce to her step, eyes roaming the room. Now, who could she be looking for? Gabriel began moving once again, tapping Cecil’s arm to notify him instead of simply dragging him along. “Shall we?”

The change in expression on the princess’ face while her eyes landed on Gabriel was a bit of a treat. Mostly because Gabriel could laugh with the woman over the subject of her little involuntary sex change. “Try to act a little normal?” She turned her head to look at Cecil, casually stepping between guests and avoiding small groups of demons. “If you impress me, you might come to enjoy the after party.” A joke, mostly, depending on Gabriel’s mood when this party was over. If things went over smoothly, she would have her feminine body back once more. Due to Mammon’s apparent hobby in curses, she assumed he had books on such subjects…and if that was in fact the case, perhaps with the new princess’ kindness, everything could return to normal. Her main priority in coming to this party, otherwise the woman might not have chosen to come at all. She had just been to war with greed, after all. Whether or not this new throne holder recognized Mammon’s delusions and stupidity mattered very little.

 

Eventually in reaching the princess, Gabriel gave a deep bow. Definitely out of character. “Well, how do you do,” she greeted with a devilishly handsome smile. Tilting her head back to gaze at Lydia, she took in the woman’s features; or what was apparent, save the upper half of her face. “Might I say you look absolutely stunning this evening.” Being that Gabriel was a man, she would have to play the part and offer to take the princess’ hand, to kiss upon it before letting it go to straighten once more. “I couldn’t help but fight my way to the front of the line in hopes for a dance with someone as lovely as yourself.” With her arm having been freed from Cecil’s, she was open to make a move. Taking a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, she held it up for a brief moment before sipping from it. She was open for conversation first; though the flattery should have been promising enough.


Well, Astarte had never really expected to dress up while she was in Hell. But parties weren’t out of the question. Standing at the doorway to the ballroom now, she looked down at her outfit, feeling a little silly. Anything but girly, dresses were certainly not the norm for her. Such had been made aware while Rin played dress up with her in the mansion before his untimely death. Luckily enough, even after much hassle and bickering with the seamstress, she was put into something a little more her style. A leather mask and corset seemed befitting, as well as the fact the mask was nearly cat shaped. Astarte had originally rolled her eyes at the idea, but she couldn’t disagree with the seamstress while looking in the mirror. Hopefully her lover would feel similarly.

Speaking of Blitz, he had chosen red for his color. So, the skirting on the dress was overlaid with red colored velvet; heavy and even a little warm for Astarte, but wearable nonetheless. Standing here beside him now, she hoped for the best possible outcome in this mission. With both men close enough to hear her, she gladly would remind them to behave. At least until the cards were handed out. “Let’s try our best to make good terms with Eva,” she said lightly, switching her gaze from one to the other. “Something is bound to happen; it’s a party in Hell. Jump in where you want, but… Remember that we’re here on behalf of the Anarchy Division.” Seemingly content with that, she moved her arm in place of Blitz’ so they could enter the well dressed room, which was filling rather quickly. Being prepared, the hellcat already held business cards in her free hand.

[Mask // Dress]

 

Razorbackwriter:

 ~Prince Charming? Don’t you ever stop being dandy showing me you’re handsome~

The new Princess of Greed was gracious in her approach to Gabriel, who acted like Prince Charming. Even though the two had not met before, it was pretty clear from Gabriel’s effeminate features that this was the Princess of Wrath. His voice had an unmistakable tone, putting his best foot forward in treating Lydia with respect. No doubt Gabriel would have been a lot different if she were in her normal body. “Might I say you look absolutely stunning this evening.” He said, looking her over before his eyes came to meet her own. “I was about to say the same thing. You cut quite the figure in that suit.” If it was a night of performances, Lydia would keep up her end as well. “I see that Mammon had left you with a little something before he died. You are taking it well in your stride, I must say.” Watching Gabriel take up a glass of champagne, and prepare for small talk, Lydia was happy to oblige. “Course, he left me a little something too.” Lydia meant the Kingdom of Greed itself, not that Mammon would have ever wanted her to have it. His pet hate was to see women in authority. The Princess giggled and flitted her fan, while her man in waiting stood regally at her side, keeping close eye on those that moved around them.

 

“I had thought that perhaps there would have been ill will towards Greed, but of course I seek to allay fears that we are still on a war footing. I mean, Mammon attacked…what? A day after you had been crowned. Tsk tsk. You’ll be happy to know, I am not one that rushes in like my predecessor.”

Lydia offered a wide smile, before nodding politely to Cecil. “You must be awfully proud to be escorting Gabriel.” The Princess doing her utmost to engage conversation. For a moment however, she let her eyes pan the room, only to spot Maya and Allister, the couple that had tipped off Lydia about the death of Belial. Lydia took in a sharp breath and narrowed her eyes, before remembering herself and then showed a much softer look. She knew tonight would be about business above all else and she was sure to make sure Gabriel had her attention. “Later this eve, I have a gift of my own for you.”She leaned in and then whispered to Gabriel. “To remove that…nasty little curse.” Gabriel was sure to know what that meant. As she was Princess of Greed and had inherited all of Mammon’s powers, it was within her capabilities…..for a price.

Scar could see that the Princess had already gone into hostess mode, and let out a snort as he saw just who it was with. It took a moment for him to stop staring, and of course it was Mariela who would reign him in. She accepted his offer to dance, and with a polite bow, he ushered her onto the dance floor, and began to waltz with her to the beat of the music. He was very light on his feet, and you could say he was a natural. Around and around they would go. Scar holding Mariela firmly as her skirts were to float along the floor. “You dance divinely, my dear Mariela.” The alp said in a soft voice, as they moved effortlessly between the other dancers.

~RB~

 

Zetta:  He looked onto the giant kingdom of greed to be very forthcoming to his impending mercenary career. Hoping that in all of his prior adventures and grandeur, this would be one of many thrilling times in his life. Unlike those times though, this job offered subtly which was something foreign to the man as with his strength, most things were as simple as overthrowing competition. Now he needed that competition to thrive, for as long as he needed to until he himself was rich.. Before coming into the Ball, Blitz would have turned to Eren, a mere glance out of one eye as he only actually turned his head to the side some to at least get a clear viewing of the other powerhouse here. “Maybe we’ll run into the one you were fighting before..” He flashed a half-smile then as he still carried a joyful persona, despite the disappointment in coming here only to make an appearance for their company. Then, as if he initially did not know the weight of his words, after a second past and they would have been coming upon the entrance of the building his face shut into one purely serious. “If we do, you wanna fight him solo?” As they were a team now, it was his choice whether or not he wanted to fight alone when it came to settling scores. And essentially standing up for Anarchy division he considered that odd chance that whoever it was who fought against Eren would show himself here as well; As wounds like he had could only have come from someone who was strong, and with some sort of fire manipulation, who similarly carried different flames like his partner did.

The three were now right about to come into the party and integrate themselves with nobles who were all but foreign to them all. For now, he abandoned his thoughts on fighting, considering the farewell their new boss had given them she likely did not expect them to come to blows with anyone.. Unless maybe the host or hostess offered a cake in celebration to their own arrival. Regardless he would not start rumbling just yet, not until he was introduced to some more comfort while spending time here. He turned around when Astarte had begun speaking only to tell them to behave themselves for the most part as they were representing Anarchy Division. While he had wanted to quickly move and tell her that he was already thinking ahead of her in that term, he would only appreciate that she had not said any sort of belittling comment along with her words of warning. She told them something simply, and he only smiled and nodded, taking her every word into the consideration. “Yeah, yeah..” He followed up with as even though he agreed with her he had still been hoping to cause a little bit of chaos while he was here..

Enter the Mortal-God: Donning a buttoned up red trench coat and brown khaki’s, Blitz spread his arms wide first, to aid in his lover’s opening of the door. Upon entering he brushed his shoulder against Astarte, only to get her attention, the moment she would look his way even in the slightest. The demigod would snatch her away from her stance, wrapping one arm around her waist, the other across her back he would swing all the way to the opposite side of where they both were but only barely off of her feet. Taking her into his own space of Romanticism and deliver an embellishing kiss.. A bold public display of affection. He did not care, as he would leave her to fall if she did not catch herself right after that. “Mask on, mask off. You’re my girl..” Blitz was unsure of what she would be doing while he would be giving out of his own given business cards, but since she looked so good in that dress of hers he only felt it was right to lay his stakes on her as anyone could be eyeing his love at this point. And at the ends of their togetherness he would be off on his own, making moves into the crowd to begin handouts. He held forty of them in a stack, like a deck of cards, by the end of the night his hands would be empty.

[Mask//Outfit]

Cecil’s eyes were moving with the dancing peoples all around him, he was observing everyone to try and detect the idle threat who thrived in settings like this. Where everyone was so busy that no one could take the time to notice one insignificant difference, that difference would be the thing that tipped off a chain of wrongdoings. Knowing this for sure, only because of the nature in Hell, and what Lady Gabriel had told him just before coming into this place. How he should not trust anyone, and more importantly be alert. These two things were different, the second one she did not tell him, it was what he implanted in his own mind. To be mistrusting would only be effective if he was also alerted to deception, while the man himself was not especially perceptive. This day could hold no endearment without the Lady’s presence steadily beside him, he felt that with her he could be happy. But every individual here could potentially end his happiness, and the most dangerous one would be where he least expected them to be. This result became more evident when the other princess in Hell had finally showed herself, drawing the attention of the crowd before her. Where she would look directly at Gabriel, bearing an altered expression for her specifically. One such look that the woman herself returned..

As expected she would follow up by getting her royal guard’s attention before making her move toward that one. The mere tap absorbed his thoughts completely and his eyes tracked this to even take a step before the woman, her words of promise bringing a skip to the beat of his heart.. It was very tempting to kill everyone here, and surf her to the feet of the one who she had been eyeing so closely. But the words before that were to tell him to be normal, which likely meant calm. Unless she was referencing his own form of normalcy, where he would be destroying anyone who gave her the wrong look.. Cecil was not idle with his movements unless it was for Gabriel after all. So his arm curved, as to make it an effortless move forward for the one leading him, and then he would be moving right along with her. They would brave it all the way to the space right before the other Princess.. His love was acting all nice again.. Just like before with that guy.. It was made clear to him now that this was the face and attitude she wore when she wanted to control a situation and put it in her own favor without directly applying herself. His mind flashed back to the failure that happened back then and he instantly considered snatching away this one with an overwhelming presence and forcing her to do whatever Gabriel wanted from her, all so she could stop this fake attitude and be the one he fell in love with…

Alas, that would have been wrong.. Or perhaps that would be his ticket to impressing Her. Now he was conflicted on what to do.. His eyes were wandering madly as he was stuck on what he should do. Doubting himself consistently until he noticed the other Princess nodding at him, for noticing sake. Taking the words spoken to him before he would nod as well. Towards what that woman said just now though his head turned to the side, and even tilted downward. Even if he was acting normal, it was too much to think about considering himself as the one escorting Gabriel, with it being brought to light for the first time- even minor he forced himself to swallow his ecstasy, lowering his eyelids to suppress visual excitement. “Yes… Very lucky..” He struggled to say, stepping out of the way when he noticed both women making their way to the dance floor.. If he was left idle then he would take the time to look over them, waiting for the bad feeling he had earlier to go away.

Special Delivery – SS

 

Scene setting : The House of Red Velvet.

co-written with Temp and Moo.

 

Temp:  The man that owned this place must have been rich…like super ultra mega rich. There were beautiful women everywhere and everything in the place looked so expensive. Part of her wondered how the Doctor would pay for this celebration of theirs, but it really didn’t matter. Roxanne, Wilhelm, Narcissa, and even Igor would enjoy the time they spent here. As soon as food was brought up she realized that she hadn’t even looked over the menu. A slight panic shot through her as she looked at all her friends nervously. Thankfully, the Doctor knew exactly what he wanted…why not just copy him?“Umm!…I want what he’s gettin!” She looked at the waiter and nodded her head up and down in further approval, happy with this decision.

 

Moo:  
Narcissa had been so occupied admiring her surroundings that she had barely noticed the waiters who flooded their table. She gasped while she let go of Igor with haste, only to pick up one of the crystal glasses and peer through it at the people around them, and then more of the decorations throughout the room. Material things were called such for a reason…but they sure were nice to look at! She set the glass down after the good Doctor made his order. Narcissa wouldn’t have to look through the menu to know what she wanted! At least, not after he had pointed out the all-you-can-eat buffet. Roxanne had just finished noting that she would have the same as the Doctor when the monster slapped her hand down on the table, causing the glasses nearby to tremble momentarily. “I want the buffet!” None of that food would go to waste, surely! Not with Narcissa here. She would try every single plate of food that table had to offer. And she would even grab seconds for desert! She loved the taste of sweets more than anything, and had to be altered so she could keep the food down. It hardly made sense to strangers that an undead would want to stuff themselves full…only to waste any nutrients a mortal could obtain through the food.

 

Razorbackwriter:  The Doctor chuckled at how Roxanne wanted the same meal that he was having. Easing back in his chair, he watched on with delight at how his staff were reacting to the wild antics inside the Red Velvet. This was no ordinary outing, since the Doctor was more of a TV dinner type of guy, but with the success of his latest creation he knew that as soon as word got out about his plans, that they would be racking in the gold. So, one night out was well worth the expense considering.

Outside of the Red Velvet, a familiar black carriage pulled up. It was none other than Vicomte de Valmont. Having been sent by the Prince of Pride to find the good Doctor, he had decided to pull into the best little club in all of Lust to wet his whistle and feed his need for female flesh. As luck would chance it, he was walking right into the perfection situation, with the Doctor already there with his staff. Valmont was going to be able to kill two birds with one stone.

The waiter took the orders as each put them forth, and it was with a bemused expression that he heard Narcissa shout that she wanted the Buffet. It was a connoisseurs delight, with foods from all over hell and beyond. Mouth watering meals to please any palate. The waiter came back with a plate for Narcissa and directed her where she may start, as the others would be brought their entrees first. Igor, getting his hot pocket.

As the Doctor was about to tuck into the soup – his spoon held elegantly, they would be approached by the wig wearing Valmont, who made a showman’s like introduction.

“Ah…Doctor, so good to see you. Ladies.” He said, acknowledging each at the table, before seeing Igor and raising a brow. “Nice hump.”

The Doctor placed down his spoon and placed his napkin on the table, before rising to shake the Ambassador’s hand.

“Valmont, what are you doing here? Or is that a ridiculous question considering the many beauties?’ The Doctor shook Valmont’s hand warmly before offering him a chair at their table. The Ambassador instead shook his head. “I have a special booth that I am going to, but before I do. I need to speak with you about….your latest project.”

The Doctor tilted his head, wondering why the Ambassador would want to discuss business before pleasure. “What of it?” The Doctor asked, before the Ambassador got right down to business. “I’ve been advised to inform you that the Prince of Pride – Astaroth is going to be employing you and taking all the soldiers you can supply….PLUS provide you with a near endless supply of corpses.”

Wilhelm was somewhat shocked by this. He hadn’t even begun a promotional campaign for his new warriors. “Are you serious? How did he even know about it?” It was a good question, and the Ambassador twirled a blonde lock of hair around his finger. “Oh…a little bird told him. None the less, he wanted to make sure that you were informed directly, hence my stopping by before going off to enjoy one of the Diamond dogs.”

The Doctor paused, before looking at his staff and wondered what they thought of all this. “Roxanne? Narcissa? What do you think? Should I accept?” Wilhelm thought highly of his staff and in a matter such as this, he wanted their input.

~RB~

 

Temp:  Roxanne wasn’t surprised that Narcissa decided on the buffet, it completely fit with who she was. Undead or not, the girl certainly could eat! She couldn’t help but smile and wave at all the people that she walked by, completely unaware of their lustful stares. Her body fit right in with this place, though she would never understand such a thing. Once all the food was brought to the group of friends, Roxanne giggled in excitement. There was a moment of silence and stillness from her as she examined the food, but that would all be tossed aside as she began to dig in. She would wave at Valmont as he greeted them all, but was paying more attention to her food than the words being shared. When she was questioned though, she stopped completely. Her eyes wandered from the Doctor to Valmont, and back again. It took a moment for her to compute what they had been talking about, and her mind was made up just as fast. “A Prince is a good customer, and bodies are good! I like it!” She really didn’t know Astaroth, but a Prince was in his position for a good reason…right?
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

Eva would eventually show up at the House of Red Velvet, having decided that she would deliver Bandit to Raul personally. Whether or not that was what he wanted didn’t really matter to her. The job was done and the package delivered, easy money. She nudged Bandit forward and through the front doors of the building, not giving her much time to think or speak. Her presence in the building was enough to stir a commotion, both because of who she was and the notorious weapon in her hand. Any demon she shot with the Makarov would be fucked, and they all knew it. “Special Delivery!” Her voice was loud enough to be heard despite the music and the commotion around them. Hopefully Raul would show up quickly and take Bandit off of her hands. She really didn’t want to know what he was going to do with the girl at this point.

 

Moo:  Narcissa clapped her hands excitedly in her seat while she was given a plate. “Buffet, here I come!” Just as the monster began to stand, the ever charming, wig wearing Valmont made his appearance. She plopped back down into her seat, looking slightly depressed for an instant before being greeted, to which she would smile again with a nod. Her time waiting through the small talk only made her fingers twitch and drum over the sides of the plate. Obviously, she was in a hurry to get to that table of food, as she barely regarded the small talk the two gentlemen were making.
Upon being questioned by the good Doctor, Naricissa would nod her head with enthusiasm. “The prince will have what he wants!” Pride definitely sounded like a spoiled prince! And having an endless amount of corpses meant good for everyone in the lab. The fact that Wilhelm had asked their opinions meant they were important! That was good! The monster’s drumming and continuous movement seemed to subside in the slightest, now interested in what the Doctor had to say.

 

Razorbackwriter:  With both Roxanne and Narcissa approving of the idea that the Prince of Pride take the super soldier contract, the Doctor gave Valmont what he wanted. Shaking his hand again, Wilhelm said to Valmont. “You go tell Astaroth that we begin working on his first shipment as soon as we return to Hell’s Kitchen. Again, I thank you for this wonderful news.” The Ambassador was pleased to see that there was no argument from the Doctor. When the Prince of Pride made up his mind to be the sole client, and that the Doctor and his team only worked for him, there was to be no misunderstandings of his intent. The only Kingdom to have access to this new secret fighting force would be Pride.

The Ambassador clicked his heels together, before leaving the lab team to enjoy their meals. Wilhelm urged Narcissa. “What are you waiting for, my dear? Go…load up your plate.”

With Narcissa probably heading off to the buffet like a shot, that left the Doctor with Igor and Roxanne. Igor was enjoying his hot pocket, now that Narcissa had left the table. The Doctor winked at Roxanne as she was about to enjoy the same meal as he.

“After this meal….we dance! Ahaha!”

https://i1.wp.com/records.bluefm.com.ar/files/2011/10/raul-julia-1.jpg

So different the Doctor seemed in this environment. But either way, his worries for where to get more corpses and who would pay was now solved.

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In another part of the Red Velvet, the Warlock was seated at a table surrounded by some of his risque dancers. They were all fawning over him, as he sat in the middle of the booth, watching out for signs of trouble amongest his clientele. So far the night had been drama free, and Raul noted that Valmont, the Ambassador to the Kingdoms was present. He always tipped big for some of Raul’s beauties. The Doctor and his entourage were enjoying the Velvet’s menu, even the hunchback. Everything was going beautifully, but the night was about to get even better, with the arrival of the leader of the Anarchy division – Eva. Her voice sang out over the crowd, and it was unmistakable. Grinning like a fool, Raul got up from his table, much to the disappointment of the women that surrounded him. All with eyes like slits at whoever had garnered Raul’s attention.

“Special Delivery!”

Those words could mean only one thing. Eva had captured Bandit. Making his way through the crowd and past the tables of patrons, the Warlock approached the pair with a devilish look in his eyes.

“Gift wrapped, I hope.” He sneered.

 

~RB~

 

He that is proud eats up himself: pride is his own glass, his own trumpet, his own chronicle – SS.

Scene setting : Pride Kingdom

co-written with Temp.

 

Temp:  Astaroth appeared sitting upon his throne, seemingly out of nowhere. He had just returned from the battle between the armies of Greed and Wrath. There was a great deal of disturbing occurrences during the battle, all of which were now being analyzed in his mind. Gabriel had somehow managed to get a variety of unique followers within an extremely short amount of time, for seemingly no logical reason. Both the armies of Greed and Wrath were stricken with mass casualties. Mammon, the Prince of Greed himself, fell in battle. Astaroth would likely have joined him if Lucifer himself hadn’t stepped in. This meant that he owed him, which wasn’t something he was happy about. Better to owe a favor than to die though, right? Normally retreating would have shaken someone like him down to the core, rattling his pride heavily at it’s core. However, he had made it clear to himself that there was simply no other choice. It still stung a tad, having to retreat, but there was no winning that fight. A one on one fight with Gabriel, now that would have been different…right? He had taken a lot of damage during the fight in his demonic form. Perhaps joining the fight in that form immediately was the wrong move. Next time he would fight in his normal form, or perhaps learn a condensed version of that form. There was a clear advantage in having multiple forms, as it put him into a position of having different phases of damage, vitality, stamina, etc. His pride in himself was not arrogance, it was something that was a fact. He refused to accept himself, or anything in his army that he couldn’t be proud of. It seemed his current capabilities weren’t sufficient enough, which meant he would have to continue training.

His wounds, along with the clothing that he wore, began to heal and return to normal while he sat on his throne. Healing his wounds wouldn’t take very long, but recovering from his transformation would. He was well aware that he would not be in fighting form for several days, but he refused to sit and fester. “Send me a General, immediately!” His words were loud and piercing, and would surely attract the attention of his servants. Eventually his order was obeyed, and a servant presented his lord with one of his many Generals. “Bolster the defenses, hire more spies…saboteurs…assassins…everything…I want scouts patrolling every hour…any spies in the dungeons and caught from here on out are to be executed…no more questioning. Kill any and all that are suspicious. Make me proud.” The General knew better than to question his lord and master, and bowed his head in total agreement. Astaroth knew damn well that the army of Pride was by far the most highly trained and powerful, as he would not accept anything less. Still, there was always room for improvement and more willing and able souls. There was no telling what awaited him in the future, so for now he would prepare and recover…and after…he would do anything necessary to become stronger. He now had a mission, a purpose. Kill Gabriel and all her followers.

 

Razorbackwriter:  

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The Ambassador decided his next port of call on his mission to tour the Seven kingdoms of Hell would be none other than that of the Castle Pride. Already well aware of the fact that it was Lucifer that dealt the hand of fate to save Astaroth from Gabriel’s blade, the Ambassador was sure that the Prince of Pride would be wounded…both morally and physically. Of course he could heal himself, over time but no doubt he would seek vengeance against Gabriel and her supporters. The interesting thing was, the Ambassador served HELL, not any individual kingdom. He ensured that there was a balance in that those that needed to know the current state of affairs of each other’s kingdoms were told. What was interesting was the shift in the balance, from the Seven Princes to now….five with two Princesses taking the place of Belial and Mammon.

Ah yes Mammon. The Prince of Greed who uncharacteristically rode into the Castle Wrath as though his tail was on fire, and died tragically….and all too soon. Felled…by a woman…and betrayed by a woman. There was a connection between the rise of the two Princesses and one that the Prince of Pride was sure to need to know.

Having already paid a visit to the court of Envy and seeing for himself how women again were clamoring at the feet of the current Prince, Leviathan, the Ambassador was almost certain that there may well be….another change in power. Jealousy was a powerful Master. If one woman was scorned, because Leviathan chose to lay with the other that adored…who knows what she could do. All this was of course speculation….for now.

The black carriage arrived at the main gates of the Castle of Pride and a footman jumped off the back of the carriage and strode up towards the guards on duty. He would hand over the seal of the Vicomte de Valmont as an address for a meeting with his royal Highness the Prince of Pride. If the guards allowed the carriage passage inside, it would roll on through to the inner court yard, where Valmont would alight and await to be escorted up to the main hall.

 

~RB~

 

Temp:  Astaroth had been doing nothing but resting in his Throne since he arrived in his Kingdom. His transformation had taken it’s tole on his body, and his mind was in a bit of a strange place. He would fix his position in his throne as he was informed by a guard of the Ambassador’s arrival. What the man was doing here he did not know, as Astaroth had already known about Gabriel for a while now. Still, it was worth checking out…just in case.

The guards at the gates would escort the Ambassador all the way to the castle, as well as bring him inside. The Ambassador was brought into the Throne room, which was actually rather occupied at the moment. Astaroth’s most powerful and highly trained warriors filled the room, they were his Royal Guard. He looked down at the Ambassador with an annoyed look, but not due to any hatred he had for the man. He was simply not in a good mood was all. “Valmont…I trust you have a good reason for being here.” He was not in the mood for company, but he would put up with this meeting…for now.

 

Razorbackwriter:  Surrounded by the Royal guard and many other warriors of note, the Ambassador of Hell bowed before the Prince of Pride, who had a rather annoyed look upon his face. One was to expect that Astaroth would be in a bad mood after the failure at Wrath and who could blame him. Valmont certainly couldn’t. One thing that the Ambassador noted was that unlike the Prince of Envy who was surrounded by women and one very over protective guard, was that this was a court made up mostly of men. In truth, this was how Valmont liked it. Yes, he was the Demon of Seduction and perversion but he knew that when against women, you could never ever really trust them. Like what was happening in Hell at the moment. Did Belial have any inkling that his own love would behead him? Word was that she killed her son too. That meant she wanted no competition. She was true to her nature, and that is what made her all the more dangerous.

“Valmont…I trust you have a good reason for being here.”

“Indeed I have, my Lord Pride.” Valmont was curt in his response, knowing full well that the Prince would not favour any dilly dallying on his part. So, he got right to the point of his visit.

“As you know, the balance of power from men in the seats of thrones is changing. Gabriel being the first. And you are most likely aware, that Mammon acted…out of character at the battle of Wrath castle.” The Ambassador said, turning his head to look up at the Prince with a serious expression. “Mammon had been betrayed, my Lord Pride. His own Lady of Ambition tricked him into wearing Beserker. The armor was the reason that Mammon….fell so prematurely.”

Now, the Prince of Pride would have known that Mammon acted almost insane in his attack on Gabriel. Without care for his own life. Odd…really.

“So, now there is a woman as head of Greed. But…that is not the end of it.”

This is where the intelligence of the Ambassador would come in truly useful. “I have just been to see Leviathan – the Prince of Envy, and turns out he has a little female problem of his own. Two women are vying for his affection, another too sick to compete….BUT….after the fall of Belial and Mammon to women…it’s a matter of time before Leviathan does as well.”

“Leviathan still wishes Gabriel’s favors and is a staunch supporter. As for Baal, well….I dare say he is licking his stump. Having lost his arm to Mammon. The same Prince he betrayed for Gabriel.”

There was a pattern emerging, if the Prince of Pride chose to see it. The Ambassador went into the final act of his intel collection.

“Of the five remaining princes, two are aligned with Wrath….and Gabriel may think highly of Lady Lydia for her wicked plot against Mammon. That would be three against you….my Lord. Sloth is silent for now….but then there is Lust….”

His voice trailed off at the mention of the other Princes…as he was sure that all this was sinking in. “It’s no doubt that each have aspirations for greatness. Question is….who do you trust?”

~RB~

 

Temp:  Astaroth sat rather calmly in his throne, though if one was to pay close enough attention they would see the anger on his face growing. It hit an all time high when it was revealed that Mammon had been betrayed…by yet another woman. His teeth grinded together as he thought back on the battle. Mammon did have on an unusual set of armor…and his actions…they were psychotic indeed. There was no reason to doubt Valmont in this regard, as he was one to witness it. The mention of Leviathan was one that angered him as well, due to his alliance with Gabriel. It seemed he was also surrounded by women. Female ambition was at an all time high apparently, but such a thing was absent in the kingdom of Pride. Finding a suitable female was no easy task for Astaroth. It seemed that was probably a damn good thing. “Women…dangerous creatures…” There were none in his Kingdom that were close to him, but they were still present. He had no reason to fear these females, but if any of them were important to him…this would be a time where his guard would rise. Thankfully, the female issue would be one he wouldn’t be involved in. Now there were two Princesses and even more alliances would likely surface. Lucifer himself had saved Astaroth, surely there was some bigger reason for this. In terms of allies, Astaroth really didn’t have any. “Who do I trust? Nobody but myself.” None of his guards made a single comment or even moved an inch at his words. It really wasn’t something that was hidden after all. “From what I can see…the only choice I have is to ally with other kingdoms…or hire an outside force.” This shit was really getting on his nerves, and it was beginning to show. His anger was rising by the minute, while his body continued to heal. When he was back at full strength…he would have to do everything necessary to increase his power.

 

Razorbackwriter:  Everything was going just as Valmont anticipated. The news was causing the Prince of Pride to grind his teeth menacingly, and he was in agreeance that it was the women of hell that were doing all the damage to the status-quo. “Women…dangerous creatures…”The Prince of Pride uttered, and to this, Valmont simply nodded. Yes, it was sinking in and all truth. Valmont had no reason to lie, for the truth was far more devious. As for who Astaroth trusted, he trusted no body but himself. You couldn’t really blame him for that.

“Well understood, my Lord Pride.”

The race for alliances was on. No doubt Leviathan and Gabriel were both on the move. Lady Lydia had yet to make her move officially, but that would come in good time. Valmont was sure of it.

“From what I can see…the only choice I have is to ally with other kingdoms…or hire an outside force.”

Now here was something interesting. Ally with other kingdoms outside of hell…trust the other remaining princes….or hire an outside force.

“Why hire one….when you can buy one.” The Ambassador said, before pulling out a card from his jacket and then offering it to a guard to give to the Prince. If he read it, it would be a card for none other than Hell’s Kitchen – The laboratory.

“Word has it that the good Doctor is making…an army of super soldiers. His assistant, the hunchback Igor was down at the battlefield gathering bodies of the dead from the war of Wrath. Harvesting them….for the purpose of reanimation and perfecting them. It’s one way of getting a leg up on the other kingdoms if you….have the primary contract for the first battalion.”

The Ambassador waited to see what the Prince of Pride thought of this.

~RB~

Bad habits – SS.

Scene setting : Greed Castle

co-written with Moo, Temp and Dessy.

 

Dessy:  Lydia seemed to sense Mariela’s concern about there being fighting at the ball, and seemed to understand her fears. “You’re right. We can’t be held responsible, but I wasn’t talking about us. I was talking about every other kingdom fighting one or another.” she said, looking at the floor before looking up at Lydia. She did give a smile when Lydia assured her everything would be fine, but she still couldn’t help to be concerned. “So, where’s this seamstress we’re supposed to be seeing?” she said, letting out a breath. She didn’t notice Scar missing, and was oblivious to the fact that there were people outside. The shield that was once over the castle would have disappeared by now, allowing anyone to get in at anytime. It never lasted long unless Mariela willed it to. She didn’t because it was only for the war. Both girls being oblivious to this fact, they just continued on their way.

 

Moo:  The pair hadn’t been standing idle for very long before Oroan cleared his throat. It was gruff sounding, pulling Serin’s attention away from the area she’d last seen Nami. As she looked at him, he would lean back against the pillar. “So why didn’t you use it last night?” Serin’s brow popped up and he snorted, turning his head away momentarily before reconnecting his gaze. “You know what I mean.” His expression said it all. Don’t play dumb with me. “He was using black elements.”

Serin turned awkwardly against the pillar she leaned on, her shoulder brushing against it as her feet slid out just a few inches. Her arms crossed over her chest. “I didn’t see any means to…”

“Bullshit,” Oroan cut in.

“Oroan!” she hissed. The demon master looked uncharacteristically timid as she lowered her eyes, head tilting slightly. “The last time I used black earth, I nearly killed you.” Her eyes would lift to meet his as they stood there silently for several moments. “…Anyway, keep watch for Nami.”

Oroan watched as his master’s fierce exterior masked the irrational fear once more. This was what made her special, and gave a demon such as himself feelings. She would be special to him, in a non-romantic way. He returned his gaze past the gates of Greed, same as her.

 

Temp:  Nami had continued to go higher and higher, heading towards a particular room, with an ambitious goal in mind. The throne room. She knew that there would be all kinds of valuables in that room, as part of being Greedy was being able to see the things you possessed. Surely a Prince of Greed would have trinkets and shiny objects near the Throne, last time she checked he did. This wouldn’t be the first time she had stolen from the Throne room, and it wasn’t going to be the last. Eventually she reached her objective, landing on a balcony that was connected to the Throne room. Instead of doing something silly like opening the door or a window, she poofed directly in. She was still completely invisible, and making next to no sound. Her eyes began to examine the room, taking in all the things that she could steal. There were plenty of objects that looked valuable, but she wanted to get something…special. Her gaze would eventually lock onto a chalice that sat on a table right next to the Throne. It looked absolutely perfect. It was over sized, clearly made of gold, covered in jewels, hell…it even had the Greed insignia on it…perfect. Nami quickly hopped up onto one of the nearby pillars and began to climb towards the ceiling, wanting to get a better view of the entire room before she tried anything else. From the ceiling she could see that she was alone, except for one thing…a cat? It didn’t look like any cat she had ever seen, and she had seen quite a few! She could morph into one after all. Something didn’t quite feel right about it…but the Chalice was right there…The urge to hop down there and grab the chalice was very much present. This was the first time she had ever hesitated in stealing something so close and valuable…why was that?

 

Razorbackwriter:  Lydia would rise from her place at the dining table, patting her lips with the napkin before asking Mariela to join her as they went off to the seamstress’s house. It was a dwelling within the castle grounds and they would need to take the main corridor in order to reach the inner courtyard. This would lead them past the main hall on their way. Lydia seemed to have forgotten about the force field that she’s asked Marila to construct during the war, since now that it was over, she saw no real need for it. Feeling a touch more relaxed after breakfast, the new Princess of Greed’s mood improved greatly. The thoughts of a masked ball, and entertaining the other royals of the Hell gave her a right tingle deep down inside. Ever ambitious she wanted to put her best foot forward and show all of them just what she was capable of. All in good time.

“The Seamstress’s name is Frau Voulen. Worked for the Prince of Greed and his…lovelies for as long as I can remember. Now…she can serve us.” Walking arm in arm with Mariela again, Lydia was being at her brightest. “I hear she does the most exquisite hats. Ever thought about going to the races?” she asked. Lydia being a bit of a gambler on the horses. It would be another outing….a fun one that was for certain.

The Throne room.

Scar was a very light sleeper. Strange you might think for a demon of Nightmares, but he enjoyed the odd forty winks; especially somewhere comfortable. The Prince’s throne was indeed, very comfy. The alp in the shape of a Cheshire cat was making a light purring sound. It’s tail sweeping about behind it slowly, like a snake that was in a trance. Looks, could indeed be deceiving. For as the Alp slept the hair on its forehead parted to reveal….a third eye.

And this eye suddenly opened. The pupil darted from left to right menacingly. Even turning to a slit as though it was aware of something. All Alps have a third eye and if one was to get too close to the eye’s range of sight, well….let’s just say it wouldn’t be pretty.

 

~RB~

 

Temp:  What was with this apprehension? Nami would normally have already been done by now, but she just couldn’t bring herself to grab the chalice. Setting a trap before grabbing it crossed her mind, but that would likely make too much noise. Using her poof ability could work, but it could be unpredictable, especially if she was stressed. There had to be a safe way to get her hands on it. Perhaps she could ‘fish’ for it. Imp’s always had a ‘bag of tricks’ available to them, hopefully it would solve this little problem. With a puff of purple smoke, a tiny fishing rod appeared and was now being held by her tail. Having access to a ‘third limb’ like her tail was very handy. Hopefully this would work. Nami crawled along the ceiling until she was directly above the Chalice, though was rather high up in the air. The hook and near invisible string would then start to descend towards the Chalice. As soon as it was in range it was hooked and tugged at gently, just to make sure that it was secure. Before she would actually start to reel it in she decided to wait, just in case someone walked into the room.

 

Dessy:  Mariela had waited until Lydia finished, before taking a step back when Lydia stood. Lydia linking her arm with hers again, they started leaving the dining room and down the hall. “Races? What “races” are you talking about?” she asked curiously with a tilt of her head. Mariela has never really went to anything because she had always stayed home. Her family had lived in a small three bedroom cottage in the middle of the woods away from isolation and the rest of the village. After all, they didn’t want to be exposed as being witches. People usually went to the house if they needed help, especially with healing. Mariela’s mother was a great healer, and that’s where Mariela got most of her healing skills from. So, Mariela didn’t know what “races” were, or much of anything, really.

 

Razorbackwriter:  “You mean, you have never been to the races?” Lydia asked with a surprised expression. The Demoness of Ambition thought that everyone had. Now, she needed to explain to Mariela what races actually were. “It’s a track where horses run around it ridden by very short men. The first horse past the post wins. You bet…on the horse of your favor and if it wins…you make a lot of money.” This was where Lydia’s love of gambling came to the fore. She absolutely loved games of chance like poker and 21, black jack and the roulette wheel, but nothing thrilled her more than getting all dressed up and going down to the track. “I’ll take you to the next event.” Lydia promised as they were about to walk past the throne room. It was then she turned her head, expecting to see an empty room, when she spotted the Cheshire cat on the throne. A cat wearing the Alp’s hat.

“SCAR?! What the devil are you doing on my throne?!” Lydia roared, suddenly releasing her arm from Mariela and marching off into the throne room like her ass was on fire. In a blink the Demoness of Ambition was half way down the long red carpet, while on the throne, Alp woke up with a start. Hearing Lydia shriek was not exactly music to his ears.

“Ah…shit.” The cat formerly known as Scar uttered as he tried to stretch; his tail fluffing up instantly. Neither Scar nor Lydia had noticed the facet that someone was trying to steal a jeweled chalice beside the throne.

“I leave you alone for five minutes and you are trying to take my THRONE?!”

Again her voice was raised as she got ready to reach out and throttle Scar with her right hand. The cat was quick to reply.“I was just sleeping….Mistress!” Trying to defend himself before the Demoness released an angry retort. Oh he knew she had a dark side and it was rising. “Please…please…the throne was comfy…that’s all.”

At that, Lydia picked up the cat around the throat and gave him a good throttle, before dropping him back again. the cat’s eyes were rolling about in it’s head comically.

 

~RB~

 

 

 

 

Do or Die – SS

 

Scene setting : Wrath Castle.

This story is co-written with five other writers; Temp, Moo, Zetta, Candle & Fu.

 

Temp:  Astaroth had been stomping towards Mammon from behind, still at a decent distance from him. It was becoming more and more clear that something was wrong with his fellow Prince, but there was little Astaroth could do about it. Whatever was causing this change would have to be addressed after the battle. As the massive demon marched forward on all fours, he once again caught a glimpse at the persistent warrior from earlier. This warrior seemed obsessed with doing whatever he could to try and hamper his actions, though was unsuccessful. Now the warrior seemed to be hurling things at him, which seemed to consist of balled up chunks of soldiers. Honestly, it made him laugh just seeing other soldiers used in such a way. It was actually pretty interesting to have giant balls of living and dead soldiers chucked at you. Astaroth continued to march forward towards Mammon, despite the objects being hurled at him. He didn’t bother dodging them, and instead relied on his armored hide to protect him from any damage. When the ‘balls’ actually hit him they exploded into chunks of meat, bone, and armor. They were similar to the cannon fire that he shrugged off earlier, but they carried much more impact than he anticipated. While the damage they caused was minimal, it did actually make him stop for a moment to shake it off.

And then there were the elephants. The warrior actually managed to snag up these large creatures and toss them at him. Astaroth knew better than to ignore these, based on how the much smaller ‘balls’ had surprised him. He immediately stood up completely on two legs, now towering over everything in the battlefield. As the elephants got close to him, he would smash them back into the battlefield with his arms and tail, using the limbs like a baseball bat. This was of course stalling him from moving forward as fast as he would like, but he did manage to press forward regardless. As he got closer and closer to Mammon, he actually caught one of the elephants by using his jaws and his hands. With the creature now in his grasp, he began to pour the magma from his mouth onto it. As soon as the magma made contact with the creature, he pulled his arms back and then hurled the giant magma coated creature directly at the warrior that had thrown it.

 

Fu:  https://i1.wp.com/i61.tinypic.com/2gtwvwg.png

Prince of Envy’s Entrance Theme

– In the skies above the war , a ear popping noise can be heard and felt as clouds parted as a speeding winged figure could be seen with a trail of clouds at the tips of his feet ; his wings would soon close as the person descended and crashed into a large group of soldiers hailing from Mammon’s land and in that following moment would be thrown into the air and flew in varying directions . A large cloud of smoke had covered the crater in which the person flew in from , a soft sighing sound was heard from within the smoke and what followed was a giant release of purple flames which went skywards towards the sky. –

” I can’t stay away . . . . ”

– The voice said and all who knew him would instantly recognize it to be Envy , but in the next second the smoke had cleared and they would see Envy’s back and his arms as he had his back turned to them . His muscles tensed up until some of his veins were present and bulged outwards , something which was quite odd as Envy was not known to display any emotion of this caliber before. He would then at this moment finish his sentence and began to turn around –

” WITHOUT SOMETHING HAPPENING TO THE NEW PRINCESS OF WRATH ! ”

– Envy’s face had shown a fierce glow to it , he yelled from a distance , although he was more closer to Gluttony and Mammon then the two which was getting closer . He didn’t know which one of them incited the war but his eyes were sharp , sharper then anyone that has ever been seen before . His demonic clawed arm would engulf itself in a thick ball of flame as his other arm began to swirl inwards as if summoning something –

” This balance of power is always tipping , but I swear this will be the last time someone causes trouble today in the kingdom of wrath ! ”

https://i0.wp.com/i58.tinypic.com/ftzc6a.gif

” It would seem my time on this battlefield is done for now. . ”

– The Veiled Figure at this moment of noticing the Prince of Envy had jumped backwards into two soldiers clashing and absorbed them into a void , apparently dissappearing from the battlefield . For what reason however was unknown but it could be inferred due to the Prince of Envy’s appearance that had changed his decision of participating in this battle or there was the case scenario he would wait until there was a reasonable objective worthy of his hands to resume his battling , even though he took a passive approach to it all –

 

Candle:  With his arm severed and his now gone arm bleeding profusely, Baal looked at the arm and looked back up at Mammon. “Cute.” He said while grabbing his former arm and squeezed it tightly. Loosing the arm wasn’t such a big deal, he’d always get a gold one or perhaps a weapon.
With the arm gripped, Baal backed away and transferred his hellfire into the limb and watched his arm engulf in flames. It was too the point of which he couldn’t hold it anymore so he backed up and chucked it at Mammon. Basically his arm was like a grenade except the shrapnel would be flesh. It certainly was something new he’d done before and it seemed like a nifty idea.
Gaining his distance, Baal was pretty useless without his other limb. But he could still take down soldiers even with a handicap. Tripping a passing by soldier he laughed slightly and then stomped down on his head. The sound of a head caving in with just a simple stomp made up for the blood squirting out.
Letting Gabriel take hold of him seemed like a good idea, after all she did kill Belial. But Leviathan’s appearance to the battle just made his head cave in. Why would a Prince who absolutely did nothing except have the most annoying personality be here? “Oh look boy wonder came to save the day, I hope you didn’t bring girl scout cookies you bleeding cunt.” Baal said annoying while elbowing a soldier hard in the chest and waited for Leviathan to die.

 

Moo:  
The war cries, clanging of weapons, and the piercing of armor melted together in a perfect symphony. It was as if this was Gabriel’s orchestra. They played just for her, screaming in agony or anger. The smell of death polluted the air about her kingdom, possibly drifting toward the others. A play for all to see. And when the curtain would fall…who would be left to bow before the audience? Gabriel smiled as she crossed the battle field at a swift pace, feeling joy bubble within her. Oh yes, the play was coming to an end.

Her forces had ferociously taken care of Greed’s army, and with less time to prepare. If they had marched into battle themselves, who could have measured the destruction the kingdom’s forces would cause! She felt utterly giddy, even in watching the scene play out before her. Movement within the air had especially caught her attention. Large masses of bodies flew through the air and she grinned, a wholehearted laugh sounding. Elephants? Her laughter only grew. Mammon’s forces were dwindling far too fast for him to rely on. How would he retreat now, if given the chance? A wild look came to her eyes while her grin pulled from ear to ear, fangs protruding quite nicely. Her attention was back on him.

The scene in which was taking place could hardly phase her now, as she closed in. Only yards away. She took note of the close range being an issue. Yes…Baal did nicely in a sort of trial-and-error. Now Gabriel could work around that. And while Baal’s attempt had been…admirable…it was so damn stupid, she had to laugh again. More of a chuckle, as she watched him fling his arm at Mammon. He was certainly an interesting man.
Perhaps it would work as a distraction. She slowed to a trot, then stopped as she watched flesh explode. Whether or not it actually did anything for Baal, she didn’t care. She swung her sword to the side, blasting a wave of Hell-Fire toward her opponent. Perhaps testing the limits of this man’s armor was necessary, as the blow to the stomach seemed to have had done very little…if anything at all. The heat from the Hell-Fire came back in a rush, sending her hair back in a gust of wind. “I’m here for you, Mammon!” The excitement was very much present in her voice while her eyes lit up. Her sword swept back behind her, and her stance became more serious, despite her playfulness. She had a slight bounce to her step, and she couldn’t stop smiling. Her right hand–or claw, rather–lifted beside her head and balled into a tight fist. The sound of metal scraping against itself accompanied the movement. The fist uncurled and she lowered her arm slightly, cocking it while her claws spread themselves…she looked as if she was ready to grab his head within it and just…crush.

 

Zetta:  Cecil had actively been throwing each and every one of those massive animals with all of his force. While his target seemed to be mostly shrugging off his opportunistic projectiles. The might of them both along with the distance between them made for even greater catapult-boulders being launched throughout the sky. As a meta-human he was only competing with the bestial one because he had enhanced himself beyond humanly possible, with tons of mass applied to a self-controlled powerful body. But even then, if he was to meet one of the elephants countered upon him he would have much more difficulty in catching it. So he began thinking ahead, after the first few where the Dragon had swatted them away he planted his arm into the ground.. He would create something huge with his own organs to be even more effective than he had already been. First; his hand dug deep into the ground, stretching beyond his normal reach like an extra-appendage and formed a large spike protruding upward. He had done so by planting his own cells into the ground below he was able to spread an influence inside of the Hellish earth itself. That spike spread out, gaining multiple other protrusions which would also seep into the ground after growing out a few meters.

This slaughtered most of those still alive on the side of the Greed army near Cecil and cleared him of worry from the grunt soldiers and magma creatures alike. The organic spiky appendages allowed that initial spike to reach 15 meters off of the ground, seeming more like a pinkish tree rather than an extended organ. This far above, the man who created it no longer could control his cells within them at the very top. While the Dragon tossed one flaming elephant back at Cecil, he had begun running along his extended organ. At the time of his leaving he would grab onto the tip of the organ and rip it off along with him, using it for additional momentum in this next move.. Leaping far above the projectile, at the exact same time it was thrown, making for a nice preemptive strike. In the midst of the air he spun himself rapidly, like an organic boomerang in the sky, it allowed him even more force as he’d challenge his target directly once more. He propelled himself forward now that he had the beast’ attention and would smash down onto him with the combination of his enhanced strength, gathered weight, and built-up momentum to try and match that monstrous might.

 

 

Razorbackwriter:  Standing upon a distant hill, Lucifer was now watching the spectacle below as his own creations were now all going against each other in a massive battle that rivalled anything on Earth. With arms folded and a sneer played out upon his lips for he could see the outcome from afar. There were to be great changes in the days that followed the death of the Prince that was for certain. The Greed army was suffering massive causalities at the hands of Cecil; who was using the Greed armies own battle elephants as living projectiles. The Dragon like Astaroth was doing all he could to strike the elephants back, but the losses beneath the falling bulk were of the hundreds. The lands were broken, black and blood estuaries ran throughout the trenches. The disembowelled and decapitated bodies lay scattered as far as the eye could see, whilst torn banners were flapping lazily in the wind.

 

And to think…it was women that caused all of this.

At the mouth of the Castle, the two former allies; Baal and Mammon were now locked in battle as the Prince of Gluttony had taken Gabriel’s side. It would be a choice that proved costly. Baal’s arm was completely severed by Mammon, when his blade struck true to the elbow of his foe. While Baal backed up and tried to stop the bleeding that was spurting out of the torn nub, Mammon snarled violently at the Prince of Gluttony. Baal charged his own arm with hellfire as he chuckled at the Prince of Greed. With a forceful throw, he hurled his torn limb at Mammon which hit with an explosive squelch. The arm disintegrating into disgusting flesh remnants that slid down the front of the Beserker armor and formed a puddle upon the floor. Was that supposed to hurt? Within the amor Mammon felt nothing. No pain…but he was slowly losing his mind. Mammon took a step towards Baal, but this was when Leviathan – Baal’s true rival finally decided to make an appearance. Naturally, Baal would want to face that bastard, even with his loss of limb. To Mammon, Baal was no longer a player in this game. He had just been a tool to Gabriel’s needs. Whether he realized it or not. Now, Mammon changed direction after hearing that the sly slag was singing out for him.

“I’m here for you, Mammon!”

The skull helm turned towards the direction of the voice, as the background behind him was apocalyptic. This was what Mammon had come for and this was to be his greatest moment – with or without an army. The Beserker armor appeared to grow – the chest expanding, and the skull face now more inhuman than ever. Chitorous like plates were now locking together right across the front, back and limbs. It was like watching the final preparation of a tank like creature – more than a normal suit of armor. The head had massive spikes protruding and the shoulders now had bone like appendages that gave it a terrible menace. The eyes of burning fire watched Gabriel almost go into a dance as she made her approach. The hell fire causing her hair to be blown back – as she swung her weapon with her left hand to create a surge of fire that was to engulf the beserker armor worn by Mammon. The roar of the heat of the flame was met with a sick and twisted laughter that emitted through the mouth of the skull helm. ”Trying to roast marshmallows? Typical!”

Time for talk was over, the Beserker armor now more skeletal in form with the fire blazing upon it, started a run at the Demon of Wrath. His own right hand clutching the Soul collector, which he wielded directly towards Gabriel’s throat in a move to drive the blade of the weapon straight through. This was a split second decision, which was unusual as he was taking the girl head on. He could not see her wearing anything that would block such a strike .

 

~RB~

 

 

 

 

Betrayal at the battlements – SS

Scene setting – Wrath Castle.

This story is co-written with five other writers – Temp, Moo, Zetta, Candle and Fu.

 

Temp:  

Astaroth moved alongside Mammon, charging straight into battle. There was clearly something different about Mammon, though there was no real way of knowing what that something was. Whatever it was likely didn’t matter, if anything it was a good thing, seeing Greed so bold and bloodthirsty. The battlefield was of course quite a mess, filled with soldiers and beasts clashing and spilling each others blood. Normally Astaroth wouldn’t be this involved with the combat, as he preferred watching his troops do as he commanded. This situation was a bit different though, and he had decided to make a personal appearance. His army was ready and prepared to march to this Kingdom, but he felt they wouldn’t get here in time to make a significant difference. Since he was able to teleport, he decided to do so and act as a one man army. The tole he would suffer after going back to his normal form would be large, but hopefully it would be worth it.

As he watched Mammon choose a solitary target, who looked rather different in comparison with the Wrath army, he decided to focus his attention on the foot soldiers. Astaroth barreled through the soldiers of Wrath, crushing them as he ran through their ranks. Although he was simply smashing things in his path, he was still very much aware of the battle going on around him. His head was moving in different directions to analyze the angles that a surprise might come from, and he had to keep some of his attention on the sky above in case of projectiles. Such things would hardly leave a scratch on him, but there was no sense in ignoring things being hurled through the sky. As he continued to pounce forward he looked up and took note of a flying object, which he kept his attention on. He wasn’t sure who or what the being was, but it was clearly not your average soldier. As it began to descend towards him he snarled and slammed his limbs into the ground below him, though at an angle. Using this angle and the sudden momentum he shot himself forward and to the side in a large burst of speed, moving away from the falling objects path. Right now he wasn’t trying to fight solo enemies, but rather weaken the Kingdoms defenses and foot soldiers. So for now, he was doing everything he could to avoid these solo fighters. Now that he was away from the falling object, he continued to run forward at full speed, clearly heading for the wall.

Eventually he would make his way up onto the walls of the Kingdom, easily ripping through the forcefield that was created. He jumped up onto the highest point he could find, which enabled him to look down at the battlefield. Using his new found position he opened his mouth and let out a loud and crippling roar all around him. His mouth remained open, and from within magma began to drip out and fall down below him. After a moment of watching the fight, he began to move his hands to his mouth, which he would use to hold onto the magma. As he did so it would become black and distorted, forming into a large blurry black fireball. He began to hurl these down at the soldiers, as well as the Kingdom around him. After exploding and sending chunks of dead soldiers and beasts hurling through the air, the Magma would form into disgusting creatures. They would begin to wail and crawl towards those loyal to Wrath, due to Astaroth controlling them and commanding them to do so. As they found organic life they would explode once again, sending more corpses flying. Astaroth let out another roar as well as a long and satisfied laugh at the carnage, clearly finding the battle amusing so far.Fu:  
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– The Veiled Man had stood there silently as the man clad in dark armor had came at him with high speeds and attempted to swing his powerful blade at him in the pursuit of cutting him down but the man retaliated by turning his body in the opposite direction and swing his blade just as fast at the blade that had came at his left hip . A large shockwave would be released around them as a result of their blades clashing , the blades had shook violently against one another as the Veiled Man’s appearance was partially seen through the dark veil which had cloaked him in its entirety. His light purple-blue skin was seen , and his spiky white hair but only for a second as his blade Eclipse released a loud noise and vibration , the sensation and nostalgia would echo off in the form of the Leviathan Queen of 2 generations previous , Demonic Aura and presence is well known for being different for each person and moreso recognizable easily if they are royalty or were in their day, this blade had held her might . –

” You own a extremely powerful blade. That much is for certain”

– The Veiled Man would push his blade forward upwards to cause her to stagger as he had leaped backwards, his darkened figure would begin growing hazy as he had jumped. If he had leaped at him at this time he would have entered a portal in the form of his hazy body and be transported to the closer region of the castle , there he would find the two princes that he was looking for . If he hadn’t , he would have done more flips backwards until he had returned to his physical state and continued battle if that had been his choice. –

 

Candle:  After making a man’s head pop with ease, Baal stared at soldiers. Oh how scared they looked against him, there trembling faces and shaking bones made him feel alive. It made him feel some type of feeling that he never normally got, most likely because he was a menacing psychopath that only Hell could tame.
Grabbing another soldier, Baal held him out horizontally and ripped his body in half. Using the separated body he chunked it at someone and listened to the thud as a soldier dropped to the ground. With blood on now onto his face the scent of blood made him close his eyes and sniff the beautiful scent in. Now that the scent of blood was in his system the now normal Baal would be turned into a monster who committed such horrors.
Taking off his armored coat his muscles began to enlarge and so did he in height. At the sight of such transformation it looked absolutely disgusting, but it was necessary if he was going to live. His body morphed into a colossal demonic killing machine, when this happened there was no stopping him until the scent of blood was gone from his system. Baal kept the cigar in his mouth and grabbed his axe and turned it into a double sided spear.
Soldiers hesitated to charge at him so Baal charged them and impaled one after another on his spear. Body after body lined up on the cold Hell forged steel. Eventually the tips of the spear would become engulfed in flame, so he threw the spear in the air and caught it on side where there wasn’t any bodies. Then he used all of his imposed strength and tossed it at the direction of Mammon
“I will use your blood to create such a beautiful painting that even Picasso will congratulate me.” He yelled out with his booming hellacious voice.

 

Moo:  The large form of Astaroth proved problematic as he tore through the barrier. The warlocks around the castle could no longer maintain the force field, but it wasn’t as necessary. The cannons were fast at work until the number of the catapults had dwindled down until there were less than half remaining. It was a matter of minutes before a few more would be destroyed. The warlocks focused on protecting the soldiers instead, as the magma Astaroth created was tossed about the field, exploding on impact. Small barriers would surround them momentarily to avoid mass murder of the warriors in the way of the blasts. Instead of say, ten, only a few would take any hit.
Gabriel found herself feeling pleased while her claws smashed through some poor man’s stomach, clenching before she tore away the whole front of him. His stomach tore open, intestines dropping to the ground. She would simply lick her claw and it was another life added to her compilation. Oh yes, she was saving up for the finale.
Her armor was already completely stained with blood along her hands and arms. Her sword was heavier with the amount of carnage she’d collected. She had to give it a good swing to help rid some of the excess blood. Where she had been walking, there was a trail of bodies. Some headless, some cut in half. Others simply missed limbs…or like this poor bastard that crumpled before her…they missed flesh in certain areas.
An idiot swung at her from the left, his blade catching her arm with a clang. The armor in which trailed along this area would catch it before she turned her head to meet his gaze. His already wide eyes grew further. “It’s impolite to stare,” she said meekly. Her sword ran itself through his skull, penetrating the helm he wore as if it were simply tinfoil. That was the power of her Hell-Fire, as it improved her sword’s durability greatly. Her once simple blade had morphed until it was twice as large, curving slightly while it radiated bright red-orange flames.
These flames spread over the corpse upon contact. Had he not already been dead, he would have been screaming bloody murder. She frowned as she tugged at her sword once. The body came with it. Irritated, she pressed her foot against his chest and yanked her sword away. It made a sickeningly sweet noise as it left his head, blood spurting over her. She opened her mouth gladly, taking the blood on her tongue before swallowing. Yum! She made a noise of glee, obviously enjoying her killing spree.
Though admittedly it seemed that Baal was enjoying himself much more thoroughly. She would admire his strength from afar as he tore a body apart before laughing. That’s right! She would have this war finished before the sun set. Mammon would fail. And his head would decorate her throne room, along with Belial’s and Hex’s. A hall of fame, dedicated to those who fell to her feet. Those pathetic men deserved no better place than the floor at her feet. Maybe she would make a coat from his skin. Her blade lowered while she stared off into the distance, the circle of bodies around her giving plenty of warning to other warriors of greed. They simply did not want to fight her. Cowards, the lot of ’em.

 

Zetta:  The Gate-Keeper’s eyes were slit in the skies above from the incoming wind and limbs flying up to his level, his arms crossed in an x-formation before him to collect as much air as he could between his fingers to further halt his fall upon realizing his enemy to be fleeing the scene there. His crash landing seemed futile as the great draconian beast simply jumped a great distance from where he saw Cecil would land. The bloodied warrior did not care for what damage this would do to himself, but as he descended rapidly only wondered if he would make it to him before he could do any massive attacks. He landed, bringing a massive bunch of debris into the air around him. His choice land split majority of the fleshy mass that he had gathered in the air, which was primarily to damage his target further but now had served to break his fall. Still; as he positioned himself to punch through the dragon, the bulk of his hands, his knuckles were built up to withstand the pressure the ground would bring. That which he brought upon himself with that jump. As one who decided the capacity of their flesh, he was not so damaged when his knuckles met the blood-soaked ground.

The entire area around the man would suddenly twist and distort into an incomprehensible sight. The grass rose from the ground and was now blotting out his peripheral vision. For just a few moments while he had been recovering from shock was he then reminded of the fighting going on: Directly ahead of him were Thousands of soldiers all locked in battle out of nowhere, beside him, behind him, all around was fighting going on. Blade pit to blade; Yet not one person turned to the new one that had fallen from the sky. This was a battle-field clearly and the revolving intensity was enough to hike the nerves of any living being. Blood was shed at rapid rates and the ground beneath everyone’s feet was pooling blood, It would become clear now that this was an active genocide, there were simply too many people and escalating casualties to be anything but mass murder committed against royalty. Everyone involved would likely be dead, except for his Princess, that was for sure. And while Cecil could only be in observation if he did not join in as well. The dragon was too far ahead, and he was not going to just chase it down, he would carve a path of blood until he directly saw him again: These people became illusions of his past, a wall of flesh that he would tear down once again. They were impervious to incoming damage from him as what was happening was a scripted showing, no one defeated the Kingdom of Wrath in open combat. The blood under him however was ripe with many different cells and originated in the bodies of living men.

He grew blades of sharp diseased organs, becoming dense from his power. Taking those; he began running point-blank ahead trying to ensure the dragon had no place on the ground while Cecil still breathed. The warlocks were doing a fine job of saving the ones on the floor, while Cecil would make it unsafe for the remaining opposition of grunts until he found one strong. His arms tore people in half, some would manage to cut him before then, but would be split apart all the same. His eyes had deadened and became cold completely, with no satisfaction as long as Gabrielle remained necessary on this battle-field.

 

Razorbackwriter:  It was now a battle that rivaled any of the great events in history. The humans world of Terra could not possibly compete with the likes of the Demonic Princes and their savage armies. One might think it strange that all this was over the simple killing of a Prince by Gabriel, however one must understand that this was Hell, and the Seven Princes were of Sin. Each driven by that desire; and what could you expect from one like Mammon, whose true nature of Greed was showing through. Mammon had one of the best armies, fought in the most hellish of armor at great risk to himself….and all to prove a point. Hell was run by men, not the scantily clad wenches that easily destroy their mates; such as what had happened to Belial. In Mammon’s mind there was no Princess of Hell, just a whore that preyed on men’s needs and wasted when no longer of use.

Within the beserker armor; great change was occurring to the Prince of Greed. He no longer sounded like the pompous sexist pig of a man, but he was now more beast than anything else. Mammon chose his first target on which to wield his soul crying sword. With a great powered swing, he attempted to slice the Veiled man in two – who had been mostly obscured by a dark veil for the start of the fighting. But he was not totally unprepared for Mammon, having met the upward slash of Mammon’s blade with his own. The clash of two swords would cause a massive shock wave of sound and vibration, that reverberated back down through the handle and would jolt Mammon in such a way, that he fell back and had to grip his sword’s handle tighter. It was in this moment that the veiled man’s appearance really shone through. Light purple blue skin and spiky white hair. Mammon let out a roar of laughter on seeing his foe for the first time. It was hollowed, as if he had spoken down a long tunnel. .

” You own a extremely powerful blade. That much is for certain” The veiled man said, before using the momentum of his blade in a forward push to drive Mammon back. Mammon, who was still at full strength, did take a step back but planted his boot hard by the heel into the floor to slow and steady his stance once more, as he watched the veiled man flip backwards. Mammon changed his hand grip now to a two handed hold on the blade. To follow the veiled man in Mammon’s eyes was to lead him into a trap; away from the main prize of that bitch; Gabriel. Snarling he spat the word”COWARD!”, before his attention was seized by the whistling sound of an oncoming object. The skull helm turned sharply, where he then saw the oncoming of a spear being thrown at him with strength by none other than….Baal. The fire tipped spear blazing, struck the left shoulder of Mammon, it’s spear head piercing the armor plating. Mammon roared not in pain, but in anger. His closest ally had turned on him. Mammon released a hand from his sword grip and then reached up as the spear was wedged into his armor plating, with blood spewing out from the hole around the blade tip. One with the armor, he snapped the spear length free from the arrow head which was slowly being consumed by the armor itself as it worked to close the gap in the plating – forging the metal into itself. The spear length clattered to the ground as Mammon yelled back at Baal. ”And I’ll make you cook and eat your own flaccid cock! You treacherous pig!”

It was clear that there was now no love between the Prince of Gluttony and the Prince of Greed.

The bowmen, though dwindling in number due to the cannon fire and the constant attacks from the Wrath army were not retreating as one might imagine. Flanked now by the horseman, they made a full on run at the Castle to take on ALL of the Wrath army in a squirmish that would go down as the Day Hell turned in on itself. The battle elephants were now having to defend themselves, some spooked as their drivers were struck by enemy fire, and were now charging indiscriminately at the waves of soldiers regardless of whose side they were on. It was demon against demon, orc against orc. The Greed army was under orders to fight to the last man, and that was exactly what it intended to do.

The beserker armor was now changing forms as it became more skeletal in its shape, though black as night. The loud footfalls of the Prince of Greed would signal he was on the march to end the one that had started all of this, with her murderous spree. He knew Baal would probably make another attack, and boy did he hope he did. Mammon knew that if Baal was under the spell of the Princess, it would distract him from trying to end the Prince of Greed in battle. Baal only had enough blood to use his brain…or his cock, so if she was there flaunting her womanhood, Baal would be put off. Mammon was counting on it.

”COME FACE ME, YOU STINKING TART. I CAN SMELL YOUR FISHY SNATCH FROM HERE!”

 

~RB~

 

 

Brother against Brother – SS

Brother against Brother.

Scene setting : Wrath Castle

This story is co-written with five other writers; Temp, Moo, Zetta, Candle and Fu.

 

Razorbackwriter:  It was no surprise to the Prince of Greed that the arrival of his armed forces would cause a stir, not to mention that the Castle soon sounded loudly that they were to prepare their army for a war. There was no sign of the Prince of Gluttony, and this much meant he was either inside, or somewhere on the grounds. He had not yet made an appearance, but something else did. A large ominous shadow that was so great in size that it cast its darkness over the very entrance to the castle itself. Red eyes shone out from within the shadow and a voice – loud enough to be heard rang out sending a wave of dire intent of malice across the entire army of Greed.

” Proceed , if you so wish .” The voice said.

The Prince of Greed eased up on his black fire mount and stared into the darkness, no doubt this was evoked by a powerful being loyal to the Princess of Wrath. Why else would it put on such a show. At this precise moment, the Prince of Greed reached for his helm and placed it squarely upon his head – the terrifying skull helm completing the beserker armor. A long loud howl erupted from within the armor as the power of its creation was now being absorbed by the Prince of Greed.

The Prince again raised his fist, only this time he sounded the order to begin the attack.

“DESTROY THE CASTLE AND ALL WITHIN!”

The roar of the army was heard. Massive catapults that had been dragged into battle by the large elephants began their assault, with massive rocks being hurtled at the castle walls with deadly accuracy. The first row of bowman lowered, with the second taking aim and firing arrows high into the sky to strike at those that manned the walls to protect the Princess from harm. Wave after wave, line after line of warriors charged forward, with the rear being the horsemen, that brought up the rear and raced for the walls of the castle. No doubt there would be a flood of the Wrath army coming out of the entrance, which unbeknownst to the Prince and his army had been opened in behind the dark shadow creature.

The Prince charged forward on his horse, riding straight for the Shadow creature, drawing his sword as his horse thundered at great speed. Large ladders were being thrown up against the battlements and walls, which would have warriors begin their assault, as the bowman continued to take aim at those on the tops of the walls and turrets.

It was a war being fought on many fronts, but the Prince was riding right into the storm. He was no coward, but would face the bitch on the throne, even if it brought him his death.

 

~RB~

 

Temp:  Astaroth had teleported from his kingdom to the outskirts of the kingdom of wrath, where Gabriel now resided. To be perfectly honest, he hadn’t expected Mammon to dive straight into battle without a proper plan. Then again, Mammon probably wouldn’t be expecting to receive assistance from Pride himself. Dominance, battle, being the best, these were all things that Astaroth held a solid hand in. One mistake people seemed to make was mistaking Pride with Arrogance, which was a terrible mistake to make. Astaroth demanded the very best, both from himself, and from those that served him. He refused to have anything under him that he couldn’t be proud of. His army, his kingdom, and his own power were all things he found this Pride in. Although he had not personally taken part in many battles, he was far from inexperienced or unskilled. This would be the perfect time to show that he was not all bark, and that he had quite a vicious bite.

Standing atop a nearby mountain, he took in the battlefield for what it was, a mess. The shadow creature was seemingly on Gabriels side, and there seemed to be gathering forces within the kingdom of Wrath. Astaroth was well aware of Leviathan’s stupid involvement, but wasn’t sure if he would arrive with an army as well. Then of course there was the Glutton, whatever side he was on was unknown. Where everyone’s allegiances were placed would be made completely clear soon enough. Gabriel surprised him with her boldness, but she was a clear problem regardless. “No point holding back, now is there?” With that said, he took a deep breath and prepared himself for what was next. He immediately shot down onto all fours, and from the ground shackles locked around his wrists and legs, holding him in place. His eyes turned red as his powerful aura grew, and grew. A terrible roar would come from him as his body would suddenly change completely. He had not used this form in quite some time, in fact, he doubted any of the other princes even knew about it.

 

The enormous demon stood from his previous position, ripping the shackles free from the ground as he stood at his full height. Black magma dripped from his open mouth and trailed behind him as he stomped forward towards the kingdom.“I will grant you my aid, Mammon!” He shouted in a very loud and demonic voice, as he continued to make his way towards the battlefield. Eventually he would be stepping through Greed’s army, the likes of which was sure to stay out of his way. Once close to the front lines he would return to all fours, and use all of his limbs to bolt forward towards Mammon. Astaroth caught up with him very quickly, and slowed down to ride beside him, going into battle head on.

 

Fu:  
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– The giant mass of shadows had veiled the soldiers that belonged to the kingdom of Wrath , as they continued to march onwards . The darkness began to lighten and concentrate in one area , which a single being could be seen . In one person’s train of thoughts he would seem plain and thin . But for those who had the power to sense a person’s strength through their aura they would be able to tell he was an ominous being , whether or not he was actually loyal to the Princess of Wrath has yet to be seen . As he couldn’t be recognized on either end as a ally or foe , but he stood in between both sides ; facing Mammon’s army however as his beading eyes could brighten , standing entirely still as the soldiers of Wrath ran past him . The Veiled Man could be clearly seen throughout the masses of soldiers clashing , but he didn’t do a thing at this moment in time. But reach for his primary blade ; Eclipse . –

 

Candle:  Clutching the axe with a firm grip his facial expression turned immediately dull. Though he was actually excited to murder someone, despite his uninterested facial expression. Decapitation and mutilation would be the best part of his day, which made his overall day seem pretty boring.
Now that the fighting began going on, Baal charged in with both hands on his axe. His cigar was still placed in his mouth firmly and if it did get taken away from him he’d be engulfed with rage. A soldier came up to him slowly and looked up at Baal who towered him in height. grabbing him by his helmet, he squeezed the metal helmet tightly in his ferocious grip and squeezed his head until it popped.
It was a pretty satisfying feeling, just to hear someone’s brain pop like a balloon was enjoying. He lifted up his axe with both hands and began swinging wildly. Tendons and muscles snapped on instant contact, in one swipe he’d cut through armor and bodies. Each diagonal swipe he made resulted in someone loosing half there body or head, which was still good to Baal.
If he did miss on the other hand, he’d kick that person to the ground and stomp there brain in while people slashed his reinforced coat. He’d gotten one of the local blacksmiths to put chain mail along the inner part of the coat, making it a secret until someone actually hit his coat with a sword. Even if he did get hit, his bloodlust made his pain tolerance high enough that through any injury he’d fight till the very end.
“Just like the good ole times.” Baal said as his axe sliced through the bone that connected the right arm together.

 

Moo:  The army was organized. Prepared in a matter of minutes as catapults began hurling rocks at the tower. Warlocks within vicinity would hold a force field that defied many large boulders. Granted about a third of them managed to pass through if holes were created. The magicians themselves would be safe from open fire in the meantime.
Gabriel’s warriors ran into battle with war cries, the wrath apparent on their faces. It was as if they were offended due to the attack. Whoever had the balls to bring a war to this turf may have been insane. Though not as insane as the new prince of wrath herself.
She laughed while she watched her new and unexpected ally hurl himself into the mass of bodies in the now penetrated wall. His ax swung this way and that. Blood spurted from different body parts. Heads flew, bodies crumpled. Limbs were severed, or they were simply cut in half. She loved the show. In fact, he deserved her applaud; she did such.
Now the real debate was walking into battle herself. Should she do this much, she might create a bigger problem for Mammon. She smiled as she thought of all the delicious souls that awaited her. Her eyes scanned over the army, in which was slowly decreasing in size in the front. The back still held many catapults, despite her men’s attempts to bring them down with their cannons. Gabriel pursed her lips while she looked at the wall. Fighting took place. More slaughtering. Her kingdom would truly be painted red this day. Perfect! It was as if they were celebrating her new command, gifting her their bodies and souls. And none of her men would turn on her; they admired her strength if she could kill Belial single-handedly. They most likely had faith she would do the same with Mammon.

“What’s this?” Something towered in the distance in a matter of moments. “Hm?” She cocked her head to the side. Astaroth had returned. It seemed he couldn’t go a day without making his presence known. In fact, that would be two times today. A laugh erupted. Three princes would die in a single day, granted she was able to murder them before they fled with their tails between their legs.
The fire on her horns grew in size, spreading over her forehead as if she were wearing a crown. Her eyes slitted further, glowing gold with specks of red. They seemed liquid like fire while her claws grew from her hands. She bared her fangs at the first few soldiers she laid eyes on. This day was going to be tremendous! “Come now. I know you can do better, Mammon.” Even if he weren’t able to hear her, she was satisfied in saying it. She took a breath and blew, torching those in front of her before moving on at her own casual pace, a smile playing over her lips.

 

Zetta:  With the bout of the supposed incoming of his new leader’s command over Wrath’s army now clashing with the quickly formed army of Greed, two princes already having made their appearance while even a third threatened to lead an attack of his own. Cecil was reminded of home; the one he blew himself up to escape. It seemed he was meant to only be replaced in the same sort of place he had left then. Now however that he was finally fighting for a standard cause he was going to be much more effective with causing the death of others.. While he was no vanguard he was the very first to take a stand against the opposing army. The battle-lusting demonic humanoid, Cecil Terumi was on the field, leaving his mark everywhere that lay blood with risen torrents of clumped flesh bearing the ultimate disease. They held grown spikes within them, the primary offensive of such attacks. Staked on some of these were men on both sides, because Cecil’s attacks were to widespread for specific targets when everyone was fighting like this. The blood of his enemies filled his nostrils, he enjoyed every part of large scale battles.. All except the times when his strength proved to much for a man’s conscience and he managed to draw fear from their wretched minds. He slayed them still, for being cowardly in the face of imminent danger, but took pity on such weak souls seemingly forced into the tides of battle.

Within his own vicinity; the very middle of the battle taking place he was rampaging, clearly searching for a target to truly have his own fight with. He could effortlessly slay foot soldiers after all but that did not mean that he was truly enjoying himself here; because his attacks could surprisingly kill off a good man before he even would get off his stronger techniques.. If he could not bring back the head of someone important, Bella, the new princess of Wrath would likely pay him no attention as a gate-keeper.. That was when he noticed a man galloping on a horse in the head of the front, cloaked for the most part without any heavy armor like these grunts he was up against.. He was concerned, men like that were vanguards themselves or actual leaders. Most likely, that was the one heading this army. Odd for one to be this deep in the battle, but he moved with his instincts. Ducking under one spear coming towards him but then being impaled by another, one from his own men. Cecil coughed blood on the blade.. If anyone touched it they would be sorry, then he looked up at his attack, only to be pierced again through his ribs from one clad in breasted armor, that one was female.. A soldier on his side, as there weren’t any females in Greed’s army, Mammon’s disdain for them were widely known. He was hit on both sides, by both sides. Before succumbing to the combo he hooked both weapons under his arms and spun himself to create a temporary safe radius before he was charged at again. He twisted himself and them with his crazy strength, his eyes completely focused for now as he wanted to know just where that one he noticed was headed. If he was going to Gabrielle he would just have to die before he could reach her like the rest of this scum…

Once clear of foes for a second he leaped into the air, enhancing his cells with inhuman results to get hundreds of feet in the air. The spot as his wing-bones flexed and then began to spasm uncontrollably, signalling his taking on a pair of wings. Though they were weighed down by his extended flesh and bone and prevented him from full flight, but he could guide himself with a comfortable glide.. From here he witnessed a beast taking form, growing from within the opposition to become what he could only describe as a massive black dragon.. With this he would have to forget about that other one.. The beast charged straight over the other army and knocked the others Cecil fought with away like bowling pins. He could not allow something like that to reach Wrath directly without gambling with a siege. So he made his way for it, though it’s speed as a giant outmaneuvered his slowly guided gliding. To match that he lowered his arms slightly from their former 90 degree point to an an acute angle where he would descend faster to a bigger goal. He chased after the dragon until he caught up and simply dropped himself from a few hundred feet above to crash-land on it. He swarmed his body with extra masses of flesh over himself to better weigh himself down after balling himself up, taking on the form of a human cannon ball for maximum damage. Cecil was moving fast in a diagonal angle as the wind still carried him, left alone like this he would bust a hole through the black dragon’s back, while he himself had no opposition for what counter might have come as his vision was obscured and his entire move was focused on an attack.

 

Razorbackwriter:  The battle field was awash with the blood of those that had fallen as the first causalities of this war against Wrath. It was almost being played out in slow motion, as the two sides came together in a sickening mass of warriors spurred on to kill the other till none were left standing. Limbs and heads fell so easily, others impaled upon large spears, driven deep into the moist earth. Eyes seeing out to nothingness as death was to come to many. The cries and shouts, screams and wails were but music to the maestros of this calamity. Was it true that fools rush in, or had the Prince of Greed believed that Gabriel would not possibly be able to gather enough support to counter his attack. From the outset, the odds were in the Prince’s favor. Surprise being the first card dealt. Little did he know that the slimy Prince of Gluttony had fallen under the spell of Gabriel’s swollen bosom and hourglass form. Traitors die a dishonorable death when a deal is struck, and no doubt there would be one to collect payment.

Ferociously, the Prince swung his sword at any that he came upon, as he thundered towards the entrance, the gaping maw of the Castle of Wrath. One unlucky bastard tried to take down the Prince with an axe, but the Prince had already drawn his sword back and swung it with deadly accuracy, slicing through the soldiers neck and then cutting through the vital arteries, severing the bone that kept the man’s head on his shoulders. Rich crimson blood spewed forth before the head simply flew straight off the soldiers shoulders and landed a good six feet away. The headless body teetering as if it had no idea what had just happened. A moment, and it would crumple to the ground in a pathetic heap.

The blade collected yet another weeping soul, to join in the chorus with the two hundred other already embedded within the blade’s edge. The horrific cries screaming out in warning as the Prince raced on for the entrance, but as he did so – there was the loud pounding of massive feet. It was coming from behind and sounded louder than any of his battle elephants. The skull helm turned and it was with something of a surprise that another great demon had joined into the fray.

“I will grant you my aid, Mammon!”

It was Astaroth. His voice unmistakable and his gigantic form overshadowing all of the other warriors on the battle field. Out from the skull helm, the Prince of Greed could barely contain his pleasure at the sight and offer made by Astaroth to join the melee.

“Good! Let us dispatch…the welcome wagon!” Mammon’s voice sounded peculiar coming out from the skull helm, as though he was not quite himself. With Astaroth racing along side the Prince, they would be a formidable force to those that drew their weapons to guard that precious slag….Gabriel.

https://i1.wp.com/static.comicvine.com/uploads/original/7/72294/2357716-berserk_2460209.jpg

The first to come into sight was the being that had been formed from the dark shadow that had veiled the castle in the beginning of the war. Now he was in clear sight, with pulsating red eyes that shone out – clutching what looked to be a sword of legendary status. He was standing perfectly still, as though waiting to be taken head on…and Mammon would not disappoint. As the Prince roared in his charge, he spat. “The first great traitor to Lucifer to fall to my blade!”

Mammon leapt off his steed, which reared up before turning and racing away back through the fighting soldiers to return to Greed Castle, as the fully armored Mammon approached the Veiled man. His spiked gloves of his right hand gripping tight around the hilt of his sword. The Prince of Greed showed no fear as he closed the distance between them, as the battle raged all around. There was no words of challenge, for they were not needed. Whoever this creature be, he served Gabriel, and thus….he was the enemy.

With a terrible roar, he then charged at the veiled man, swinging his sword back, and as it would be brought forward in an upper slash to go from the veiled man’s left hip diagonally through his torso and to come out at his right shoulder. The menace and power behind the swing would be with an almost super human force, which was attributed to the beserker armor that he wore. Should the hit land it would slice the being in half . If not, they were in for a battle royale on who would die first.

 

~RB~

 

 

 

Two Princes – SS

 

 

Scene setting : Gluttony Castle

co-written with Candle.

 

Candle:  With a scalpel between on the rim of his right ear, Baal stared at the doorway with a enclosed fist resting on his chin. He’d actually wanted some random lost soul to appear so he’d be able to dissect them and harvest there organs. His throne made out of bones was his crowned achievement throughout his royal status, the hollowed skulls were placed at the top of his throne making the throne seem more dark.
Tapping his finger against the arm rest of his throne, the hall echoed of a tapping noise against a poor souls leg bone. “Someone come here and bring me my chalice.” Baal said loudly as a servant rushed down the hall too his aid, knowing that if he wasn’t fast enough he’d be used as a painting frame. His interior was made out off people who weren’t up too the stress of working for him.
Therefore if they failed they were turned into various things, for instance one cook who made a horrendous meal was used to fix a broken leg on one of his chairs. Baal had such a sadistic streak for bone collecting that he even made his own crown of ribcages and hints of muscles. With chalice in hand, Baal held it out as his servant poured some wine from a vase into it. “Now make sure you clean off the guillotine, i’ll be using it later.” Stating in a obvious truth of him decapitating someone later.

 

 

Razorbackwriter:  “Baal…I just love what you have done with the place. The bones…the skulls. It’s so you.”

Yes, the voice that came from the darkened part of the throne room was none other than the Prince of Greed. He entered carrying a large bag and then unceremoniously up ended it, with bones and skulls toppling out and scattering upon the floor with a delightful clink and tink. Mammon shook the bag till the last small bone fell out, before neatly folding the bag back up again and then tossing it over his shoulder.

He watched a servant pouring the Prince of Gluttony a chalice of wine, with a delightful chuckle. “Drinking so early? No one told me it was happy hour.” The Prince of Greed found a chair close to the King’s throne and rapped his knuckles on a table. “I’ll have what he’s having.” Mammon ordered, hoping that the servants realized who he was. Picking up a nearby challice he waved it around – tapping the side and grinning. “I like how you live Baal. Take what you want and give nothing back!”

The Prince of Greed thanked the servant who came close and poured wine in his chalice with a silently mouthed saying of“Thank you” before raising his chalice to Baal. “To death…and all who stand in the way of the Princes of Hell…except Envy…he’s a dick” Mammon drank down and let out a loud belch before getting right down to business.

“So…it has come to pass that the Prince of Wrath has been murdered by none other than the slag known as Gabriel. Cheeky bitch cut off his head. SO..that tells me she is going to be wanting to shed more blood…probably one of us…if not ALL the Princes of Hell to reign it for herself.”

Mammon drank down the rest of the wine in a hurry and slammed down the goblet.

 

“But don’t worry…I have a plan. How do you feel about…a war? But…instead of just say one of us going in to teach the bitch a lesson…we…tag team it?” What ya say? Her skull would be pretty on that throne of yours.” Mammon wiggled his brow and waited to see what Baal would say.

 

~RB~

 

Candle:  Baal looked at Mammon with a eyebrow cocked. Sure war would be pretty interesting but if this woman killed Gabriel then she’d be able to kill them both. “I’m very intrigued by your proposition dear friend, but if you can assure me her own head then I’ll join you. Baal said honestly while tipping the chalice down slightly and let the aged wine flow down into lips.
Sure he was surprisingly good friends with Mammon but when it came to him, there was always type of reward he wanted. Getting someone out of the way to take over Satan’s place did seem intriguing to him. Except it would be absolutely impossible to get that far. “What’s in it for you? Spit it out, you’re already ordering my servants around and dropping bones all over the place.” He said while rubbing the temple of his head slightly and staring down Mammon.
The least he expected from Mammon is his stereotypical lets go collect loot speech. Not the whole speech about warring against someone. Baal actually hadn’t been in a war in a while, and the last person he’d tag teamed with was Belial.

 

Razorbackwriter:  “Baal….really? You want me to take all the glory and spoils of war AND her head before you will consider joining?” Mammon mocked that he was somewhat hurt by Baal’s reaction. Surely, if he was the Prince of Gluttony, he would be jumping at the chance to kill and to kill many. “Imagine the head count…..All those…bones for your collection. I mean, you can never have enough heads on pikes.”

Mammon rose to his feet and kicked back the chair. With a showman like flair he approached Baal’s throne, mounting the dias with a dance like stride.

“Oh…my dear friend. For starters I rather get to her before she gets to me. I kinda thought that was obvious. She’s the Princess of Wrath for fucks sake. One head won’t be enough. She’d gasm at the sight of our deaths.” Mammon strode around and behind Baal’s throne before popping his head around the other side. “Gabriel jizz on your throne….icky.” He pretended to shudder, before walking back down the dias and spinning around.

“As to what is in it for me…Is…everybody paying attention? I get all her gold and jewels…and treasures. While you…YOU get to kill as many of her followers as you want. Hell, I’ll even sharpen your guillotine for you.”

 

~RB~

 

Candle:  Once Mammon offered to sharpen his guillotine, Baal stood up straight and stared him dead in the eyes. “Deal.” He said and held out his hand to show they had some sort of hellacious deal. As many followers of Gabriel he’d be able to kill without anyone bothering him seemed good to him.
This always seemed to happened to him, Mammon was a good convincer of things like this. Plus his bloodlust made him override the thought of something bad happening because of a thing he did. Tapping his chalice against Mammon’s, Baal chugged down the wine and whipped the liquid from his lips. Blood and wine was his favorite things, now both combined would make his day even better.
“Do you ever stop and think that there are some words you shouldn’t say? Because I’m holding you to every word you say, otherwise your head will be the reason my unused water torture room finally gets some use.” He said with a deathly stare and meant every single word of it.

 

Razorbackwriter:  The grin on Mammon’s face only grew to the point it was so fiendish that it was unnatural. He had managed to do the deal with Baal by making the simple offer to sharpen his guillotine. Bit of oil and polish and it would be good as new. An hour out of his time tops. Mammon shook Baal’s outstretched hand and winked. “Oh…Baal, I think carefully before I say anything. As for your water torture room…it will be jam packed with Gabriel’s minions…so much so you will think it is a water theme park.”

The Prince of Greed burst out laughing at his own joke, before smacking his lips and getting ready to depart. One thing he knew better than to do with Baal was overstay his welcome. A last tap of their chalices, and Mammon handed his empty one to a nearby servant. Mammon started to put on his gloves, before he remembered one last detail.

“Oh…before I go. Have a guess who is hanging out and licking Gabriel’s tit at Wrath castle?”

Mammon wobbled his head and headed for the door, his voice carrying after him as he was leaving.

“Leviathan….the Prince of Envy. Laters, Baal. Bahahhahaha!” Mammon slammed the door as he waltzed out to the courtyard and his horse. Oh, he knew that parting shot would be a bulls eye as far as building up Gluttony’s want to be involved. It was no secret that Baal hated Leviathan with a passion. Mounting his horse, the Prince of Greed chuckled again, before making a start for Wrath castle.

 

~RB~

 

Candle:  

Hearing that Leviathan was at Gabriel’s newly inherited throne, he dropped his chalice and then his muscles tensed. He slammed his fist on one of the stands he used to place his books and broke it immediately. Being able to kill Leviathan would be more satisfactory then actually killing Gabriel.
“Get me my cigar.” Baal shouted out loudly to whatever servant was listening and got up from his Throne of Bones. Cracking his neck and grinding his teeth together, Baal walked towards his armory and slammed it opened. The only weapon he frequently used was his axe. He even named his axe, it was something along the lines of Grinder or Meat hook.
Either way it was one of the most intimidating weapons in Hell due to its appearance and massive blade. Its wielded bone handle and long ivory shaft that lead up to the blade was made by the beast blacksmith. He turned around to see a servant have a light cigar and he even got it put into his mouth. Patting the servant on the head, Baal grabbed the axe and walked down the main hall as his open coat showed his chiseled body.
“Oh this will be fun.” Baal said to himself as his face shifted down into a look of pure hatred.