Eris Didn't Need To Look To Guess At Exactly Who Had Made Queen Elsa Falter, And A Smirk Touched His

Eris didn't need to look to guess at exactly who had made Queen Elsa falter, and a smirk touched his lips--just the hint of one, as he knew she wasn't one to be trifled with--to his senses, she blazed like a white flame, cool and contained but dangerous, and likely far fiercer than she seemed--but a smirk all the same.

"It may be worth discussing," he said, although whether or not that was genuine agreement was anyone's guess. Touching a hand to his chest, he bowed to her--a respectful, elegant bow, but a small one. They were in the heart of his Court, after all, and the winter ball was about to begin. Eris was not inclined to bow deeply to anyone, least of all a foreign queen--and one who was arguably human, at that. Still, he had invited her here, and couldn't bring himself to be outright rude... even if the only reason he had invited her was an idle curiosity. How would she react to discovering that he had made a pet out of one of her own? He knew by now that there was some connection between Hans and Elsa, and stirring this particular pot seemed like a delightful way to deepen the game.

"Welcome to the Autumn Court, lovely queen. It is but one realm of many, within the land of Prythian--although we do not often welcome humans, I hope you find yourself invited to the other Courts during your stay. Partial as I am to my own," this time his smile was genuine, "each is more beautiful than the last. Spring is doing well, finally; the flowers bloom without shame after too long dormant. But can a flower truly compare to a tree touched with every shade of red and gold?"

This place was alive with magic, even the air itself seemed to dance with magic, awake and aware of itself, fierce and free--and all of it tied to the High Lord. Everything in Autumn, from the greatest oak to the tiniest pebble, was a part of this man, a magic ever renewed by his presence, drawing life from him, tied to him.

"Enjoy the festival. Unless you have a strong head for drink, may I suggest you avoid any wine that seems to shimmer? And the sweeter a fruit may seem to be," added, picking up a heavy, ripe blackberry from a passing tray, "the more intoxicating, and the more you will crave, the more you will need. Yet just one? I think the risk will be... minimal. For one such as yourself."

Eris held it out to her on his palm, rich golden eyes gleaming as he studied the beauty. "What is it the humans say? We must not look at goblin men, we must not buy their fruits--who knows upon what soil they've fed their hungry, thirsty roots? But," he smiled, "this one does not come from goblins. Please. Enjoy it, as a gift of welcome; let it please you, and you will be able to see through any glamour tonight, until sunrise."

Although the truth, Eris privately thought, was all too often worse than the dreams. Sometimes it was better to look no deeper than a deception offered.

"Lord Vanserra," Elsa bowed respectfully, a smile on her face. "I'm honored that you've invited me to your court. An alliance between our peoples would be most ---" her voice trailed off for a moment. That smile faltering. She could swear she saw someone familiar among the crowed ballroom. "Most welcome, it would be most welcome."

( @doublejango )

That gentle little boop damn near knocked the imp over, he was that unsteady on his feet. He'd been beaten to near unconsciousness earlier, fucked hard enough and long enough that he had begged him to stop--without using their safe-word, but he had been damn close-- and his back caned harder still. Even before the fight, Blitz had been exhausted--he had actually curled up and cried on someone, much to his fucking shame, as he came up out of subspace. Thankfully, she didn't know that, but he was on his last legs, the fight--and the wound--having taken a lot out of him.

Her being kind? That was almost too much to handle. Blitz met her eyes, searching them, trying to understand--why? She could get some pleasure from him, be served by him, and never have to look his way again, so why was she bothering? But when he finally let himself look down at his chest--and his ruined shirt, fuck, he had loved that fucking shirt--he felt sick. Thankfully, the blade had hit his sternum, but it had opened a significant laceration in his chest. Muscle and skin gaped open, and while it didn't fully hurt yet, it was a cold sensation, deeply cold.

"Yeah," he said, and pressed a hand against the damaged flesh, trying to hold it shut, "that actually might be a good idea... thank you." Looking up again, he met her eyes once more.

They were beautiful.

Really, really beautiful.

Whatever she was, whoever she was, she was stunning.

"My name's Blitz," he said, his voice soft, smile softer still. Tired, hurting, he still looked like he meant it when he smiled at her, like he couldn't help but smile. "Thank you. For all of this shit. I'm gonna owe you more than head by the time this is all over, babe."

Though she did her best for it not to register upon her face, Visage couldn't contain the faint crease of her brow at the Goetia's rather condescending choice of words. This wasn't an unfamiliar tone to her--the thinly-veiled message of 'you're doing well ... for a hellhound' seemed to color a great many of the meetings she had had thus far with many of her 'peers'. Considering where the Ars Goetia stood upon the proverbial totem pole, she honestly should have seen it coming. Her mixed heritage did little to dull the sting of their judgment, however, when the other half didn't rank much higher. At the end of the day, she was just some hellborn mutt 'putting on airs' and swinging above her weight class, in the eyes of those who thought so little of her. Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly as she pointedly replied, "Oh, I'll be there. Don't you worry." Try as she might, she couldn't keep that venomous edge from her voice. In the end it didn't much matter, as the avian was quick to take his leave not long after, whisking away the injured sinner to who knew where. Somewhere safe was all that Visage hoped. A faint sigh escaped her as she watched Vepar go. Blitz's voice snapped her back to reality, though, giving him a thin lopsided smile. "Yeah, I get that reaction a lot. Hellborn Overlords aren't usually, like ... a thing. Buuuut that's a long and not-all-that-interesting story that can wait for another time. You, though..." Slipping in to swiftly close the space between the imp and herself, the she-wolf leaned down and paused to playfully boop him upon his face where a nose would normally be. "...look like shit. You don't owe me squat 'til we get you taken care of." Standing back to her full height her expression softened visibly. "You wanna 'pay me back', then start by comin' with me back to my place. I got plenty of first aid supplies and we can get that cleaned up in a jiffy."

"Damn right. Nobody gets to take you away from me an' Millie. And hey, I'll just be the warm-up act anyway. Millie will take those fuckers down. I'll just soften 'em up for her." Blitz nuzzled him one more time, then helped him get a little more comfortable before he changed the channel to one that kept the sound level low and the visuals simple: insects fluttering around in the sunlight, sometimes birds, squirrels.

Blitz went around and shut off most of the lights, leaving the dim one over the stove on in case Moxxie needed to get up in the middle of the night, or if he had nightmares. That done, Blitz curled up in the little nest he had made for himself on the floor in front of the couch, tucked an arm under his head, and gazed contentedly at the television screen. Soon enough, he felt himself drifting off... but before he did, he flopped his tail up there and wrapped it loosely with Moxxie's tail.

Friends forever, Blitz thought, loving him with all his heart. Even if you're an alien. Even if you turn crazy and evil. I love you, Mox. More than you'll ever know. I love you.

Moxxie squeaked as he was wrapped into a blanket burrito. But he did not struggle, by now trusting Blitzo only meant to help. Blinking widely and listening to Blitz's suggestion about resting and getting his mind off of ruminating, slowly his face broke into a cautious, bashful smile. Something about hearing that he would still be accepted even if he was an alien comforted him. It was an outlandish fear, he knew. But other things were not. He could become sick. He could be injured. A whole number of things could happen that would upset the balance of what made him the Moxxie that people knew and loved. So having this reassurance? That was nice.

"Yeah, I...uh. Probably could use some sleep, ha ha. I think I might have hyper focused on some...existential horrors..." he let Blitzo bite his horn, giggling. The reassurance that Blitzo would fight aliens that tried to take Moxxie away got the smaller imp's tail swishing, the only part of him that was not wrapped up in the blanket. "I'm sure if anyone would make them give up, it would be you, sir. "Thank you."

Well, shit. Being immediately confronted by a sexy stable-hand with a sword wasn't exactly the welcome Blitz was hoping for to this world, but he could work with it. He took the man in at a glance--okay, two glances, there was a lot to like there--as he stepped out from around a corner.

"Oh, you know. Just your worst nightmare," he growled, a grin spreading across his face, absurdly sharp teeth glittering--but when a horse leaned over and lipped at one of his horns, Blitz lost all of his bullshit attitude and completely, completely forgot about the handsome man he could have had a wonderfully homoerotic fight with. Because this! This was a real horse! An actual horse! Not a fire-breathing, flesh-eating, razor-claw-having Hellsteed, but a horse-horse! Eyes lighting up, he turned to start petting the creature, making happy little sounds as it snuffled right back.

Wait. Guy. Asshole, don't forget about the guy, Blitz thought, while cooing at the horse about how beautiful and perfect it was, and what a good doggy, and did it know it had the best hooves in all the world? Trailing off, he looked over his shoulder at the human again, then sighed and stopped petting the horse.

Holding his hands more or less up, Blitz walked closer. "Don't worry. I'm not here for you. I mean, maybe I am, you match the description, but not the location. So just put down the sword, nice and easy--unless you wanna do some gay shit, which I mean, I'm always here for that--and relax. I'm looking for Caleb. He broke some woman's heart, hurt her so badly that she's given up on hope. And that's what got me called in." He had been hired by the Duke of Loss, a powerful Ars Goetia, who had felt the wife's heartache across the multiverse and been moved by it, but that seemed like more information than really needed to be shared right now.

"So, what's it gonna be, Sexy Claws? You gonna get in my way? Or you gonna tell me where that fucker is so I can kill him and get outta here?"

Hans was snoring on the stables when he heard some noise in the nearby bushes, he came out, hand on the hilt of his sword "Halt!" he commands

"Who's there?" He looked bedraggled, after a year of working as a stable boy he had aged two, he went from prince charming to prince charmingly rugged. Full beard, fuller arms, more toned chest, and shorter temper.

He thought this was another of his brother's jokes and was ready to retaliate.

@doublejango

That had Blitz laughing, despite the momentary pause at how Fizz pushed him down. Fuck, his friend was hot. Blitz was trying, really fucking trying these days, not to notice how attractive his friend was, but sometimes? Sometimes, that shit was just difficult. Fizz had that magical quality, something warm and positive, that nobody could emulate, and that could never just be taken.

Admiring him, Blitz smiled when Fizz kicked his feet in the air. It was good to be friends, he thought. Because no matter how hot Fizzarolli might be? Being his friend felt like the best damn thing in the world. Blitz didn't want anything more from him. It was fun to be with him, fun with they flirted without meaning a thing--and sure, maybe it wasn't fun to come here after a party like Verosika's, but so what? Fizz had become the sun and melted his tears away, it seemed.

"Come on," he said, smirking and getting his phone out, as they talked about stolen sex toys. "This is Hell. You're telling me there's not a market for used sex toys? I bet..." A bit of Voogling, and then he found it. "Ha! There it is. Black market used sex toy pop-up sale, by invitation only. Apparently, you have to go through some kind of poker game to get an invite... whaddya think? Should we--ewwwuh, it says guaranteed not washed. That's... you know, I'm open to a lot of shit, and even I think that's disgusting.

"Wanna go to the used toy market, see if we spot any of your missing inventory? Might be a way to get a lead on who your thieves are."

" Life fucking sucks sometimes " Fizz added with a chuckle " But hey, it makes one stronger doesn't it " Fizz wasn't sure what Blitzo had been through. Only having a vague Idea. Ultimately, both were left alone eventually, left to fend for themself. All because of a lie.

"Nah, only if I want to " partly teasing, partly true. If you're his friend? Yeah sure. To most sane fans too. But it is not the same as when he was young - he wouldn't just give this luxury to everyone anymore.

Fizz had one arm curled around Blitz, stroking his back, the other hand patted the other Imp's head before his hand slows want to stroke his horns. " No need to apologize, pal "If anything, Fizz was glad Blitz still felt so comfortable around him. Blitzo always tried to be the strong one, even when they were younger - Fizz doubted Blitzo changed much in that aspect.

A grin came across the jester face, before starting to push Blitzo down on the couch, laying down next to him. Kicking his feet into the air. " haha ! Sure sounds like an idea! But it honestly the standard shit you get in most stores here, not even the luxury shit." there was a shrug " Not like its much of a lose " it was, just not for Ozzie and FIzz to worry much about " not like we can sell it anymore even if we get it back "

"It's just funny to think about someone who was this desperate to get released" he chuckled.

When Vox actually showed up, Vepar quite literally gasped in quiet delight, thrilled that he had come. And while he was as aware of his own station relative to a Sinner's as any Goetia ought to be, he was too excited, too happy for once in his life, to remember all of his composure: he bowed. It was a graceful thing, as if performed by a dancer, and when he stood he was smiling--a rare thing, not that Vox was likely to know it.

"Vox," he greeted, touching a hand to his chest. "It is an honor to have you here. Thank you for coming. I know it isn't necessarily something many Sinners will enjoy, especially given that a good portion of the exhibits are fish from Earth--among other planets--but I thought you, you might like it." The way the Goetia spoke those words, it sounded like that meant a great deal to him. Perhaps they could never be kindred spirits, perhaps such a thing was never possible for demons, but all the same? Vepar was happy. He was happy to be able to share this vision with someone else who might like it, and even if Vox ended up laughing at him in the end for taking so much joy out of such an endeavor? It was worth it just for these moments.

"Your driver is welcome to remain in the car if they wish, but they are also welcome to wait in the lobby if that is more comfortable; I wasn't sure how many staff you might bring with you and so had a small supper prepared for them." If Vox chose to leave his staff in the lobby, they would find comfortable furniture and a pleasant buffet. And, of course, there was one massive wall of a tank there--a tropical reef, as should best greet all guests at any aquarium. The lights in the huge tank were dimmed, but some of the fish were still visible of course--not all creatures slept at night.

But Vox? Vepar led Vox deeper.

It didn't smell like an aquarium--it didn't smell of concrete and machinery, of electrical conduits, of cleaning products. The place genuinely smelled fresh, like ocean air, and the sounds around them were soft.

"I know it might seem rather forward, inviting you to this, but once I heard about your love of sharks? I had to. It seems so rare to find souls who aren't... jaded? Who still loves to love, to enjoy life. There is--a difference." They walked along a corridor completely surrounded by water, fish sleepily swimming over them in the tunnel, candles flickering along at their feet. "Perhaps in Heaven, love is an infinite thing, but here, in Hell... it is so finite, that I will gladly seek out any joy--and anyone joyful." As the Duke of Loss, whose domain revolved around grief and loneliness, emptiness and agony, Vepar craved these warmer things and wasn't ashamed to admit it.

"Here." At the end of the first tunnel, he stepped down, then offered Vox his hand for the stairs, as the room was darkened--but it wasn't a room, not properly. Because the moment Vox stepped down there with him, the two of them were standing on the sea floor. They could breathe, they could speak, they weren't even wet, but all the same, it felt real. "You may swim if you wish, it is perfectly safe," the Goetia added, looking up with pride.

Above them, they could see moonlight and starlight shimmering on the surface--but all around them? There were shadows. Sharks. Graceful in their endless movement, shadows above them, ghosts passing beside them.

"They can bite you," he cautioned. "Just as we can interact with them, they can interact with us. But until they are given reason not to be, they are gentle creatures." He reached a hand out, and a hammerhead who seemed to recognize him came racing up, turning at the last moment to brush her entire body along the Goetia's talons, clearly enjoying it. She came back around to do it again and again, and eyed Vox curiously.

"This is the first of the shark tanks," Vepar explained. "And this is Heloise. She has a scar there, near her tail; humans tried to kill her. And in the moment she realized she was about to die, she fought it. So many animals do not. They have the instinct to live, but it is not the same thing as a fear of death, not always. She wanted to live. So, I offered to bring her here." He kissed her face gently, and when a heavy bull shark swam up and nudged his shoulder, he turned to pet and scritch at that one as well. "All of these sharks were rescued from one fate or another. Enjoy them. And forgive me, please, for going on at such length; we needn't talk, you are welcome to simply enjoy their beauty." He swam up a little bit off the bottom, floating there comfortably--happy. He had just spoken far too much, sharing more about himself than he ever really did, but Vepar was practically gleaming with delight.

"Pet them, scratch lightly at them, but please do not hurt them. They are alive--and quite friendly. Darling, darling, no," he said, and clicked his tongue at one who was experimentally trying to nom on Vox's jacket. The shark seemed to understand, because it let go and veered away--only to be replaced by another curious one, who seemed fascinated by the Overlord's screen.

It's kind of funny that Vepar had sent an invitation, because the thing was Vox had long ago determined he was going to be present at the opening ceremonies regardless of whether he received one or not. (As far as he was concerned, it was his goddamn right, if this place was intending to upstage Vee Tower for largest aquarium in the city.) He'd blocked off the entire evening the moment it was announced, and then the afternoon too after some thought—just to be safe. If it hadn't been open to sinners (unlikely, given the location, but not impossible) Vox would've found a way in through their security system; maybe a small drone if nothing else.

The point being that there was very little Vepar could've done to keep Vox out. (At least in Vox's opinion.)

The invitation, then, is a bit of a surprise; the sort that had him spitting out his morning iced coffee on some less important reports. He has no doubt that the note is real, of course; he has people to vet these sorts of things. A fake one would've never crossed his desk. It's more the nature of it at all—a private showing before the grand exhibition is an unusually generous offer, especially from someone he's never personally met. He's learned to be suspicious of such things—after all, his own generous offers usually have expectations attached.

Of course, he's still going to cancel all of his evening appointments in record time, because this is the most interesting thing to happen to him all year. That, and sinners—even the most powerful among them—generally did not want to refuse the requests of a Goetia.

Also, sharks.

Vox considers the contents of the short message as the driver skillfully navigates the streets of other Overlords' districts. It's the tone that most intrigues him; though he knows better to start making assumptions before he's met the man, it at least doesn't reek of the pompousness he's encountered with some other Goetia.

As they pull up to the main entrance, Vox catches a glimpse of a lithe avian figure almost silhouetted in the lights outside the aquarium. There could be no mistaking him; the businessman had taken the time to review what public information he could find about the Duke prior to leaving.

By the time the door opens, Vox has selected a suitably reserved but genuine smile, speaking without hesitation as he steps out of the back.

"Duke Vepar, I presume? It's lovely to meet you; thank you for your generous invitation. I've had my eye on this place since it was announced and let me tell you—I've been waiting with baited breath for it to open."