NATASHA O'KEEFFE As LANFEAR in WHEEL OF TIME 2.08

It's nearly impossible to look beyond the irony in what Pluto claims. This, temporary essence he seems to believe she holds. "I have laid witness to every betrayal this realm and all others has had to offer. Fought a war of Old Gods, twice now. Clawed my way out from the inferno, a cage my own father and siblings decreed, only to sit upon a throne revered by demonic forces this world has never seen. You want to talk to me about love and loyalty?" The sound that slips through curling lips is defiant, a haphazard brush-off, his bitterness little more than a childlike tantrum in her eyes. "This world doesn't need to be mine to take." Of course, not all plans would always play out in the way desired, but the archfiend was nothing if not resourceful. "Do you not understand yet, dear pluto? I am violence and that is the only promised thing in this temporary existence you cling to. Your bitterness would be better suited to a toddler." Her laugh is ethereal, tainted with the determination that this set-back would fuel her with. "Suffer the heartbreak, if it were me, you betrayed, your penance would have been far worse. Perhaps Kore's leniancy," if it could truly be called that, "will give you back your bite."

closed starter for @fxllenpythia location: Colosseum

He'd been broken apart by his love, shaped into what felt like an entirely different person. Rome had changed, so did the people within. But even if they did Pluto could be sure of one thing: the Pythia. An everlasting menace, a crownless emperor without their little book. As he stood next to them, the respect he'd harbored for the sovereign had vanished into thin air. Exhausted yet triumphant, he'd somewhat prevailed even though he'd lost Ezekiel and a huge chunk of himself next to the support of so many. A man of eternal solitude, he looked to the other sovereign with both pity and curiosity. "This world isn't yours to take. We're all temporary. Loyalty and love are temporary." He had his hands folded behind his back, his stance somewhat relaxed, "be lucky most don't remember what happened. We'd do better without these memories as well."

bensu soral in tuzak

The laughter that split Pythia's features was maniacal, at best. This creature before her lording his loyalty to some overwhelming standard as if she'd asked for it in the first place. "Dearest Pluto," she chided, as a mother over a petulant child, 'this has everything to do with your beloved." Tiamat - Kore. The dread Persephone, the one who pieced together the beginning of the end. "And if you truly understood all that she desires, loyalty wouldn't be part of the equation. Her will would be yours." This would be what he sought too. "You may have helped pull me from the inferno, helped pieced together the foundation of the asphodel and hold her close, but I do not need your loyalty - because I have hers."

closed starter for @fxllenpythia location: Necromanteion (pre-battle)

For once he was alone with Pythia, no guard, no other witness to their discussions. While he'd known the infamous Pythia for some time now, their relationship was superficial at best, with both of them loyal to Kore. So, while he didn't trust her practices and her personally, he was forced to play nice. Attacking the other leader was impossible, with Kore being a part of him so much had changed and he knew he had to make sure the Pythia knew just how much power resided within him. "Kore," he simply stated, his posture relaxed, almost too relaxed before a war like this. "This has nothing to do with either of us and I'll not swear my loyalty to you."

Practical Magic (1998)

“Undoubtedly.” Pythia quips with ripe confidence, “I couldn’t very will bring all this about and not ensure you all received and invite to the main event now, could I?” It was inevitable. As always. Wherever Leviathan went, whatever cracks in the surface of the world she and her following created, they would find her. One way or another. Destruction would remain the only thing that ever brought the seraphim together - for war, nonetheless. An enticing display with an uncertain end. “What are you to do, Uriel? I’ve already been cast to the depths of hell and crawled my way out. Do you truly believe I could not do so again?” As long as the book remained, Levithan would linger in the very folds of the world, forever whispering of the gifts she could offer - the power that would forever tether her to this realm. 

“I daresay by now, you’d have already found a way to be rid of me and yet...” Here she stood. Centuries had passed while she pieced together each and every facet of all that would tether her to her immortal state; void of the dangers that might linger the higher she rose to power. “And yet, you hold onto empty threats in the hope you’ll find a way to stop me. How does it feel? To know you’ve fought all this time, and it will amount to nothing at all.”

fxllenpythia​:

The ruins of the once great house lay before her, a kingdom conquered. One menial, hapless kingdom that would simply pave the way for the next. The familiarity that fluttered through her veins told Pythia quickly that she wasn’t alone - that such solitude was once again interrupted by one of her own. Brother. Such was to be expected now that hiding within the centuries no longer suited. Coming into such power with every soul offered to the Necronomicon only one more reason added to the hundreds of thousands that lacquered her intentions in ichor and poison. Onyx hues flicker over her shoulder, clocking the ancient horse-lord seraphim with a look that invoked invite, rather than indifference. Come; look. At the foolishness of their hope - their blind faith. “Were you lot looking in the right places, you’d have found me long ago.” Whether it be this face, or any of those previous. Pythia always existed, just out of reach and never too far away. “You’re all making this far too easy for me, it’s disappointing.”

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If Uriel had the other three with him in the moment, perhaps even Michael, it would be easy enough to annihilate their sister. Ayi’ig and Tiamat were not here. Perhaps the entirety of Rome would be decimated in the process, but such would be the cost of eliminating a worldwide threat. She could never take them all on face-to-face. Even with the power of the Book, they were 4 Blessed Seraphim meant to kill the Gods and their kin; Leviathan was but one fallen Seraphim and greater demon, with a few extra accessories. Yet this was precisely why Uriel knew this would be the only way he’d find her. They were both alone.

And so he could do nothing but look her in the eyes, letting every hint of his hatred show. This was beyond betrayal now; she was not like any of the other Fallen. A greater demon, an abomination meant to destroy all that made this world what it was. Perhaps the best he could get out of this was to bait her; conquest was nothing if not cunning. “You know very well what our presense means here, Leviathan. You’re aware that what you’re doing is equivalent to war with the Gods… Do you truly believe yourself invincible with some little book?” 

Only one with precision could envision the gorish nightmares that Bastien forced upon them. Each stringent tether weaves it's way across the battlefield and into the minds of fools that might believe rest would give them an upper hand in strategy, and Leviathan feeds more power through all that connects her to the oracle. "What will they do next?" She doesn't mean to stop him in his tracks, rather two birds with one rather large stone, "Their attempts have been feeble. I don't distrust that they might not have a trick up their sleeve." Elusive as the Asphodel might be, she wasn't foolish to believe that the wretches of this earth and the next couldn't attempt to reciprocate it. "And while you're at it, do tell me what is going on with out dear Levent."

Break them, there was no further encouragement that Bastien would need. He had directed his magic towards his visions, had pulled the sights straight from the hands of the Graeae so that they may lay waste to the city. "With pleasure," came his giddy reply, before he turned his sights upon those that would fall pray. A vision was conjured, brought forth of the decimation that awaited the city of Rome. And into the minds of those that stood against the Asphodel it went. Destruction, bloodshed, torn bodies that scattered the once idyllic streets. He pressed upon them, further and further, until all they could see, think, believe was their approaching demise. It was the eruption of screams that brought the satisfied grin to his lips, that had his eyes closing with a hum at a job well done. "And that was simply a taste."

bensu soral in tuzak

"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."

"And what exactly would I need your gratitude for?" She spat, teeth bared as Pythia took in the form of the pathetic excuse for a man. The wounded animal, snarling as she came too close as if he'd ever come close to being the prey in this scenario, or any beforehand. Octavian, regardless of his obsessive desire and need for the book, was a fickle being. One that she neither needed, not sought to forget. Tsking lightly as he attempts to move, the sight shift of her fingertips brings about vines, sprawling from the depths of the Necronomanteion to the very tower they exist upon in that moment. "When will you people get it? I don't wish to leash anyone at all," not entirely true - there were certainly more than a handful of creatures she'd see chained by the end of this, "I have given your daughter everything that you never could. I've given them all that nobody else ever could. I don't wish to condemn them to an existence controlled by a bunch of egg-head Neanderthals who believe they know what's best for this.. thing you all consider to be a society." A hand waves in a haphazard gesture to the world beyond and the vines snap around Octavian's wrists, thorns sinking into his flesh, "You held so much promise."

who?: @fxllenpythia where?: he's still on the ground

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He noticed almost immediately how difficult things were now that he was a man once again. Without his power, the whispers could rise to screams in his mind, still urging him to go find that book. It was so close, yet Octavian was too weak to do much of anything but lie there. He was disconnected from everything but his past, so at the very least the buteo's instincts ingrained into his being kept him alert despite his condition. Still, Octavian realized something as he bled out onto the floor of the Necromanteion: if he could still feel the Necronomicon beckoning him then it really had imprinted on his soul. "If you're wanting to try and make me feel gratitude towards you again, don't. I've forgotten how banal anger can feel without the fire to back it up." Octavian winces as he attempts to sit up but remains on the ground, clutching his abdomen. "Actually, I'm surprised you've found time for me at all. Aren't you supposed to be too busy walking my daughter on a leash?"

For all that might have otherwise gone wrong, the darkness of momentary defeat had drawn Leviathan into the shadows. A place that didn't encompass the same disappointment for her that it did for so many. It was, instead, the same constant that the greater demon personified in the eons since tumbling from grace. The same place that those devoted would always find her. In every abyss conjured within themselves seeking something just a little darker - a little more powerful than the last. "Sentimentality doesn't become you, Tepiltzin." The arch of fondness tepid in the corner of her mouth is difficult to miss, there are few among the ranks of the Asphodel - scattered or no, that exist as far more than fodder. The hit she'd taken in lieu of Lilith's plan remained, and likely would for some time. Inevitable. Tiamat's destruction, while somewhat a surprise, had not been unanticipated. How could it, when the darkest beings in existence were brought together? "Your tenacity doesn't go unnoticed, however. A trait I've clearly overlooked in some of the others."

a starter for @fxllenpythia, where: gurl wherever pythia can be idk

The Criminal had survived countless years in his own solitary selfishness, he'd never needed a coven nor a pack of vampires; the once vampire had abandoned his own progeny countless of times and the Asphodel falling apart was a meaningless factor to him. The destruction of the book, however, Python's departure; that was everything to the liche who held onto so little. Such things were the few personal things the liche revolved upon and he'd not let them fade away into this new world that seemed so hellbent on destroying their path of greatness. "I was beginning to become a touch worried," everything he'd ever conquered in life had been under the direction of the greater demon and there was mild relief to find she did not simply fade away into defeat. They'd been destroyed before, a coven reduced to a slim margin of members, but they'd rebuilt from that, and they'd so do again, eventually.