Camilaqueiroz: ❤️‍🔥

@arakhor

"It is done," those upon the summit had played their part, the first piece of all they needed falling into place as she felt the legions of followers and their power run through her, "For now." The assault from above would continue while two of her most trusted missives worked from below; soon the seals would be broken. "I trust you and your brother have filled the cages, what now, can I give you my love?" All those who offered their soul - their power to Python were given that which they desired, even if it was deemed costly, but for the exiled elandrin, she herself would suffer the cost should she need to. "Do you wish to join the Drow in their siege of the forest?"

It was a strange thing, to be so connected to so many. To hear so many thoughts and feel the tremor of even their deepest, darkest emotions. However deeply buried they might have been, she felt them, a distant tremor in the base of her skull that she could so easily diminish. To reach out and pull at a single string and watch the entwinement of all who belonged to her and the book unravel within the palm of her hand. Too often, it left her giddy. “Tepiltzin, I was wondering when you’d find your way back to me.” They always did - it wasn’t often that one could experience all that she could offer and find such an infinite way to sever themselves. Greed was a rife poison that lingered in even the most well-rounded of creatures. Without second thought, she moves; each step neither too prominent nor inaudible as she finds herself within reach, fingertips shifting the flesh of his upper lip until she can press the pad of her thumb into the fang that elongates under the will of her own thought, “I’m not sure I like you better this way, but I suppose we shall see, won’t we?” Her vessel bleeds, a bead of crimson growing until it spills onto his lip. Even as one of the fallen, the power she carries stains that of the being she possesses, offering him but a menial taste of what he’d once had. “Is that what this is about? You want to join the band of God-killers?”

          a gift for @fxllenpythia​,

note: kisskiss, love a beca

              The Necronomicon and, tethered by that, the Pythia had once consumed his druidic life. When Seth had come forth a vampire, progeny of Mars, life was so drastically transformed that he thought little of his former proclivities, relished in wreaking newfound havoc with new abilities, lost sight of his former pursuit of necromancy. What worth was it to a vampire? Seth had never once aligned himself with anything or anyone, every ambition or desire claimed was for his own selfish gain, but the Asphodel had killed the First; a God. That was worth it’s weight in gold, it was something he could see his own former smarts within necromancy, his power now as a vampire, embellished by. “Remember me?” He’s emptily teasing, the Pythia had so many under their command, the Criminal couldn’t imagine they’d know each and every one, still there was flattery in recognition and Seth pitifully held out silent hope. He’s casual, like some louche predator despite the fact the Pythia is far more influential and menacing, Seth leans on the wall behind him, grinning as though they’re old friends, “Whatever God is next on the list, I’m interested.”

"Admittedly, I haven't had a chance to catch much of it." Though, now that she'd been drawn from the reverie of everything else the procession offered. Hesitation lingered for a fleeting moment, forgotten as Uriel switches his juggling method. "Shuffle over,, something tells me I'll never forgive myself if I don't see this." The last two glasses on the tray she held snatched up as she left it behind, offering one to Dionaeia, "I have no clue what this is, it's sweet though, far too easy to drink."

who? @fxllenpythia where? by the clown show

"Amazing show, isn't it?" Dionaeia mentions at Pythia with a small laugh as she sees Uriel juggle. Something about the sight gives her great pleasure, and she has spent way too much time seeing the four clowns do their work rather than enjoy the tragic festivities. Silenus would be proud of the the festivities, she thinks. "I can't seem to look away."

Natasha O'Keeffe + WHEEL OF TIME S2 Bloopers

@adatiiel​ “You don’t see it as you’re never there at the end of their days, they’re nothing more then collateral damage to you but I am with all of them – there is not a soul that is wiped from this earth that is not known by me” Pythia’s heart had become lost long ago, enshrouded by the darkness that become her being, clouding out what once was good – now she only wanted destruction, darkness and death – Adatiel couldn’t escape her if she tried. The seraphim had been created from the cosmos to fight the first darkness that had blotted out the world and they had been called again to restore the natural order. “I won’t try to convince you to the goodness that exists within humanity, they are flawed and yet they still try to do better – you are not the creator of worlds and we won’t allow you to destroy the world completely” There is only one set of lips that she would listen to an order from, to bring about the end of the world will only be allowed by Ulthar.

The longer she spoke, the more tiring the whole exchange began to feel. The bleeding heart within her sister, however accepting of those she ushered beyond death, surely understood that such a burden could be wiped from her conscience were the mortals no longer upon this earth. Though, neither was Pythia so willing to offer the obvious argument to one who undoubtedly knew as much already. “Blah, blah, blah..” Her nose turned up in impatient disgust at the tirade offered to her, much like all those before. “And their constant attempts for better continue to be a let down, time and time again. How long should they be offered more chances to, as you say, better themselves? Or shall we watch for all eternity as they ponder the gift given to them and you... carry the weight of knowing each of them?” They’re menial, amounting to nothing in her eyes. “It’s been a long time since I’ve made decisions based on what any of you would allow me to do. It would better ease your disappointment if you simply stood aside.”

@adatiiel​

The smiley face was a clever move, one that brought a hitch of a smile to Adatiel's mouth even as their search turned up empty. Being the angel of death meant that she reaped everyone who fell, allegiance didn't matter when their days came to an end. She wasn't to fight, her hands didn't call for violence as she was the result of whatever came to be. Adatiel often satisfied her whims, whenever she wished to see someone she did. It was why she felt that a conversation with her wayward sister was long overdue. "Are you happy with the wraiths that you trapped within your walls? Spirits that remain and grow in vengeance can become a dangerous weapon. The spirits are very angry with you."

_

Was she? Happy? As if to make crystal clear, Pythia's smile grew to maniacal proportions, the feint giggle that slipped between her lips eerie at best, and horrifying in the shape it took. "Sister, don't take it so personally. If anything, you should be rather grateful that I led you right to them. The pesky little things." Those that lingered within the walls, wraiths that screamed endlessly, clawing at every sense of humanity that remained, every ounce of their blood riddled empathy had risen as a symphony in the halls of the Asphodel. "Angry? At me?" The pout that settled against porcelain skin feigned innocence that would never look quite right, "Then consider their anger a gift, in the efforts you and the rest of them should make to try and stop me. I daresay, you'll need it."

_

"I don't need your help to find the dead" what ego but Pythia did always carry one, spirits have always beckoned her and she is the angel that is there in the last moment of life. Adatiel was to not be confused with a guardian angel as she did not protect nor decide who lived and died, merely knew when their time had come to an end, when the hourglass had finally run out. Those that died while being tormented or moments of great emotional impact became wraths. As someone who holds death and life in equal care, it is difficult for the seraphim to accept such cruelty. "I wish to hear it from your lips sister, tell me how you wish for this to all end. Do you really wish for darkness to blot out the world?"

_

“No? You’ll have to forgive me for my lacking faith in your.. abilities.” For a millennia, so many of her kind - their kind had done little more than squalor their potential. Bending to the whims of a father who cared for lesser creatures before his own children. Sighing heavily, something more of contentment than anything else, the Pythia smiled quietly to herself. “And why shouldn’t it?” Tongue clicked against her teeth and the brunette eyed the other with irate mischief, cold and calculating - unyielding. “Because daddy dearest said so? They’ve done little but squander the world given to them. Destroyed and plundered a place they’ve never sought to earn. I say, - burn it all to hell.”

"Keep looking," as if he could be distracted by any amount at a time like this. Regardless of what came their way, Pythia would push forward. The battle ahead was truly the equivalent of a sidequest in the grand scheme of things. An offering to her devout. To take what they willed - relinquish what no longer served them all before they could look upon the gates of hell itself. What mattered, was the ritual taking place below them. Drawing the seals that kept her fallen brethren from bringing the world to it's knees with them. "Do not forget to inform me of the Drow. We wouldn't want to let our friends down in the coming days." It was an alliance that Python placed weight in for the time being, every olive branch could become a tangled of thorns without the proper attention. A brow rises to a manicured point and she huffs a breath of laughter, "Keep your secrets then," as much as he could; the greater demon would always see the truth within her most devout just as had whispered to them all over their lives, "I suppose you're going to make me to and ask him myself, hm?"

The visions had come, one after the other of the plans that would give the Asphodel the upper hand. Each new move, each new division that split from the greater body were meant with an assault from the coven. Always one step ahead of them, Bastien could pluck it from the three sisters just as the plan was formed. As if the witch were in the very depths of the Senate's minds. As if he knew their next moves even before they themselves did. "Their numbers are dwindling," he mused, head canted to the side as he peered into the darkness. "They'll continue to advance, hope to reach us before they are wiped away," but his lips curled into a smile, deadly just as he was. That is, until Pythia pressed upon what he himself was still so unsure of. "Levent?" He spoke the name as if it were unfamiliar to him, his eyes opened to peer over at her now. "If I were aware of anything besides his jealousy of my ability to bleach and tone, I would have a fair amount to share." It wasn't necessarily a lie, for Bastien had yet to uncover precisely what frustrations Levent had meant.

The presence of another seraphim breeching the otherworld didn’t surpass observation. The subtle feeling that lingered somewhere within the very marrow of her bones as he approached quickly subdued as creatures among them alerted her all the same. He was hers - to torment for however many eternities would allow them, and beyond the reproach of Michael himself, none other dared to wander too close. For whatever fate he may bring down upon them, or to avoid her own wrath; it didn’t matter. He wasn’t welcomed so much as he was lured further into the realm that now belonged to Ayi’ing and Pythia now. Shadows of the forest held her within cold embrace as she watched him call out. Repent the name in which he deserted her so easily, an embodiment that suffered the betrayal of those so willing to cast aside their own brethren for the creation of mortals. “I was wondering when I might next be seeing you, Michael.” Her voice sounds from all directions, an echo that surpasses being as she materialized some feet away from him, “Always so bold. Do excuse the mess, we’re still... renovating.” 

@fxllenpythia​ location: The Otherworld notes: sibling talks

It was foolish to tread so close to Pythia’s temple, to the spires of necromanteion that the aspect knew to be just beyond his reach. This was the Asphodel’s territory, shared with and saddled next to the court of Drow that had come to take over. Beneath his feet Michael could feel the magic of this realm waning, felt it crying out as the drow pillaged the world of the unseen. Michael had been made from the cosmos, crafted for the mortal world, he did not know what sort of repercussions these efforts could have, only that there would be. Still, that was not the purpose for his venture, he’d failed Pythia once - Lucifer along with the others. If he’d been more adamant, or more understanding, perhaps there might have been a way to persuade them. At the time Michael had only seen their treachery, if he had any hope of saving this realm he would need to persuade them to step down, or stop them for good. “Leviathan!” Michael called out into the pitch of the forest, “I know you’re there.” He said, quieter this time. 

End this. As if choice were a gift unto herself. No longer did such desire to see the mortal world end offer itself a decision she made on her own. A champion of those long gone who wished for only what they were owed - what was promised. Those cast into shadow, beaten down in borish effort to carve their wishes into the very seams of blasphemy itself. “Does it not ache, to want something that should be so easy, only to have it stripped away from you, Michael?” She asked, rather pertinently. “You do not wish to fight me, and yet you have never stopped. How many of us have you murdered?” The blessed had always held the upper hand. Whatever playing ground the seraphim had raged war on, the fallen never held the favor of their father and in Leviathan’s mind, it was exactly that which should have forced reason into the golden hands of the blessed. “Why? What gives you conscience enough to plead with me now? Does it weigh heavy, knowing you and you alone, have carved what could have been a menial disagreement into the beginning of the end?”

fxllenpythia​:

The presence of another seraphim breeching the otherworld didn’t surpass observation. The subtle feeling that lingered somewhere within the very marrow of her bones as he approached quickly subdued as creatures among them alerted her all the same. He was hers - to torment for however many eternities would allow them, and beyond the reproach of Michael himself, none other dared to wander too close. For whatever fate he may bring down upon them, or to avoid her own wrath; it didn’t matter. He wasn’t welcomed so much as he was lured further into the realm that now belonged to Ayi’ing and Pythia now. Shadows of the forest held her within cold embrace as she watched him call out. Repent the name in which he deserted her so easily, an embodiment that suffered the betrayal of those so willing to cast aside their own brethren for the creation of mortals. “I was wondering when I might next be seeing you, Michael.” Her voice sounds from all directions, an echo that surpasses being as she materialized some feet away from him, “Always so bold. Do excuse the mess, we’re still… renovating.” 

-

Stood before him the words that Michael wished to conjure wouldn’t come to him. The seraphim was not an expert when it came to expressing regret, or hope, these mortal conventions felt beyond him in this regard but so many of their brethren hung over his head now that he had no other recourse. To look upon Leviathan was to remember the millennia of war that they’d fought together, the cacophony of divinity that rained down upon them, dripped in blessed ichor as Michael stepped over the bodies of his own siblings to push forward. His only hope was that Leviathan was as tired of the losses as he was. Crimson divinity was seeped into Michael’s flesh, try as he might his hands would never come clean. “End this, Leviathan.” They worked with their oldest enemy now, a God responsible for the deaths of so many of their kind. “I don’t want to fight you.” 

It's a tiresome speech, and one she's head over and over again. Just as the first to try, Valentina would find the dark hole of disappointment all those before her found. No matter the state of the world, the depths of evil within it would always look for her; violence. "You're beginning to sound like a child, Valentina." The sharp edge of her tone is almost condescending, "And petulance certainly doesn't become you." Of course, she wasn't entirely wrong - the temptation Python offered would always be more than anyone mortal was worthy of, and until one so depraved could cling to all she offered without become a whisp of their former selves. "Kaan died a fool, and he died to save none but himself." Had the sovereign held onto his anonymity, perhaps he wouldn't have rendered the Narcissus reputation little more than a handful of ashes. Unable to be trusted. "And yet, I still stand." Leviathan smirks, "Forgive me, for not holding my breath at this little... premise of my downfall, darling. You're hardly one with clear sight, if each downfall of your own life weren't telling enough - and to be quite honest," she pauses, "i've simply never put much weight into the hands of a hypocrite." The irony is not lost, in fact, it paints a smile of saccharine devastation across the archfiends features. "Now, move along, lest I make you."

Valentina wants to make a vow, a promise that she'll extinguish Pythia's grip on her loved ones before the Narcissus coven is completely dissolved but she always cursed those fools in the movies who told the villain their plan to do them in and ended up with a knife in their stomach for their efforts, she can operate in shadow and darkness -- such is a gift for a spirit and Narcissus never shied from doing what was necessary no matter the reputation it preceded. "You tempt souls into darkness and leave them to drown when the shadows consume, I know your true face Python and Kaan died to save those that you would gladly had for your slaughter, nothing more than fodder." She wondered how awful it must be to have such an empty existence. "He has always been my friend and he died my hero, I know how seductive you can be promising great grasps at power but speaking nothing of the empty husk that it leaves you. There is no one that has true allegiance to you and you'll learn of how cruel fate can be soon."