It's only ten days.. You can do this..

Or at least she hoped so.

She really, really hoped so.

Octavia was never one to travel, especially not overseas. Her father had already managed to drag her across three rings on the first leg of their vacation, ecstatic to finally be away from his ghastly wife.

But on the other side of the coin, she wasn't sure how much time was left until she went insane.

Not that she was complaining though. A trip like this, even for a royal, was expensive, and difficult to plan. And knowing that her father cared so much about her brought some comfort, although comfort was what had gotten them trapped in their current family situation.

Which was not something she wanted on her mind at the moment.

Stolas had agreed to let her roam the ship for a few moments while he made the final arrangements for their luggage, which was more than fine with her. It wasn't healthy for a teenager to spend this much time with their parents, especially one as protective as her own.

Brushing her hand against a smooth, polished railing, she roamed the upper decks, peering out at the dock, staring at the thousands upon thousand of demons that had come to catch even the smallest glimpse of the majestic ship, packed shoulder to shoulder and threatening to trample each other at any moment.

Even though the ship hadn't yet departed, the air around her already felt icy and brisk. A flock of deformed birds flew overhead, crossing in front of the sun's rays and casting their shadows on the wood beneath her feet, a reminder that this wasn't some heavenly paradise, but the land of damnation, no matter what disguises they dawned to try and masquerade as a utopia.

Sometimes, she considered using her father's "oh-so-important" book to make her way to the human world, just to see what was up there. To satisfy the burning curiosity. But Stolas shot down the idea quicker than an assassin with a handgun.

And instead of fighting, she sighed and accepted that hell would be her home, at least for the foreseeable future. Which wasn't all bad, she could easily avoid the pits of fire and the shady parts of town. Plus, everything that meant anything to her, no matter how few in number, resided in this land of damnation. There wouldn't be anything waiting for her in the human world.

From what she had heard from Blitzo and his other employees, the human world wasn't anything special anyways. All they did was drink, kill, and have sex, which wasn't exactly a lifestyle that appealed to her.

But then again, perhaps the stories were exaggerated.. Blitzo was never the most reliable storyteller, and the rest of his employees could be lying to her. What if the human world turned out to be better than the stories? A land that would be partially freed by the influence of hell, and all of the downsides that came with it.

Her heart leaped at the mere thought of it, imagining herself roaming among the mortals, away from her crazy family and the horrors that would present themselves in the fire below. Where nobody had powers, and could die as they pleased.

Octavia, however, also knew what was best for her. The last thing she wanted on this vacation was to be tormented by those nagging afterthoughts of mortal taste, no matter how tempting they were. She had the discipline to keep her curiosity at bay for at least a few days until they returned home.

Or at least she hoped so.

A thundering roar derailed her train of thought, large black shadows being cast at her feet. Turning up, black smoke filled the air, pouring out from the gigantic smokestacks, soot coating the yellow paint that had shone brightly just a few moments ago. The ship almost seemed to tremble at the might of the noise, small vibrations shaking the deck as Octavia felt the boat jut forward, the propellers finally starting up.

A chorus of cheers rang out from the ground below, the bystanders giving the majestic vessel a full sendoff. She even spotted a few bottles of champagne being broken out, the telltale pop of a cork standing out from the wall of screaming.

She waved back, practically invisible in the crowd that had gathered at the railing with her, smelling of expensive cologne and alcohol mixed with cigarette smoke.

The ship quickly picked up speed, out in the open ocean within minutes, the crystal-blue water stretching out as far as the eye could see. Soon enough the dock was nothing more than a dot on the horizon, and Titanic had officially begun her voyage.

A cold, salty breeze caressed her face, reeking of seaweed and fish. A passenger to her right ran to the railing and threw up into the sea, Octavia realizing how lucky she was to not have motion sickness.

With grey clouds filling the sky and the now water as empty as ever, Octavia decided to admire the ship's interior, instead, starting with the grand staircase. The obnoxious gags of the seasick passenger served as unpleasant background noise as she stepped inside, closing the polished wooden door behind her.

Her gaze first fell upon two familiar looking imps sucking face under the skylight, which she ignored as while descending the staircase next to them, the couple not noticing her presence. Those two always seemed to be doing something mushy.

How the short imp, Moxxie, had somehow landed himself a wife never ceased to amaze her. Not as an insult to him as a person, but he possessed almost no traditionally attractive traits, or at least what was "attractive" to her. Typically, in hell, marriage was reserved for one of three things: Sex, protection, or status.

And she just couldn't see how he provided any of those. She had been told Millie was the one to initiate the marriage, so she must've seen something in him, even if it was something Octavia herself couldn't see.

She ignored the lovebirds and her pondering of their marriage, distracting herself with the feast for the senses that was laid out before her.

Her father had left no penny unspent, ensuring that they had access to the finest accessories the ship had to offer. The extravagance of the architecture rivaled that of her mansion back home. Finely painted tile clacked beneath her feet, not a single scratch or imperfection visible. Beams of light emanated from orange-tinted light fixtures mounted on the wall, bathing the room in what felt like the start of a sunset, nearly blocking out the grey light coming in from the windows.

The same string band that had been playing upon their arrival was still going strong, the familiar notes of Blue Danube dancing through the air. Something about classical music had always "struck a chord" with her, no pun intended.

To her left, a steward carried a tray of hot pastries, the sweet smell of apple and brown sugar drifting into her nose and sending a sweet feeling up her spine. She reached towards the tray and took one, the steward nodding and wishing her a good day before moving on, disappearing behind a quartz pillar.

Lifting the pastry to her mouth, she bit into the soft dough, sugar and fruit coating her tongue. It was some blend between an apple pie and a danish, two desserts she was glad had been mixed together.

After having barely eaten before leaving the resort to catch the ship, the little dish was enough to fuel her craving, even though the portion was small. Her expectations for the food hadn't been very high, expecting something along the lines of dried bread and crackers, but she had clearly been proven wrong.

Her moment of culinary joy was cut short, however, when a figure approached from behind, a cold breeze brushing against her shoulder.

"Enjoy your food, miss?" a deep voice said from behind, reeking of malice clashing with charisma.

"You won't get it anywhere else," the man continued, stepping out in front of Octavia and biting into a pastry of his own, "Worth every penny."

She sighed, knowing the type that she was probably dealing with. Being the child of a royal wasn't as easy as many assumed it to be, especially when out in public. If people weren't cowering in fear of her parents, they were trying to either kill her or weasel money out of her. One imp had even tried to ask her out on a date. The same imp then went on to ask out her mother, who promptly turned them to stone.

However, this man didn't seem to be poor, wearing a dark suit with a white undershirt and tie, smelling strongly of cologne. A red glow emanated from his eyes, a monocle reflecting light on his right eye. The stranger carried a heavy presence, Octavia having sensed him approaching before actually seeing him.

"Do I know you?" Octavia asked, already annoyed by them. The nerve of some people, approaching the daughter of a known royal for some obnoxious and somewhat ominous small-talk?
I sound just like mom…

She quickly changed her tone, not wanting to resemble her mother in any way. She wasn't about to become some stuck-up, pretentious snob who refused to even look at anyone considered "lesser" than her. The Goetias should be better than that.

The suited man opened his mouth, speaking slowly, "Oh, believe me, you know me. If not you, then your father." He sighed dreamily, making exaggerated motions with his hands, "We had a lot of fun back in the day. Good times, good times…"

Octavia paused, pondering what the man had just said. Somebody claiming to have had "good times" with her father "back in the day"? That could apply to anybody in hell's top one percent. The way he spoke with such little detail was beginning to creep her out, and that was when she remembered something.

Moxxie.

She had mostly tuned him out for as long as she had known him, but she did remember him telling her about some man that had approached him earlier.

A tall man with a suit and top hat.

"Can I get your name?" she asked, realizing that the man's face appeared vaguely familiar, although she couldn't place from where

Her muscles tensed up as she realized how closely this man fit Moxxie's description, and she wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of there right then and there.

The stranger noticed the tension, and stepped forward, towering over her and rapping his cane against the tile, his figure heightened by the massive dress shoes he wore. She could smell the man's breath, an unpleasant stench barely masked by the sugary pastry he had eaten just seconds ago.

"I don't appreciate your accusatory tone, Octavia," he said, his use of her first name enough to make her gag with disgust, "We don't use that kind of language around friends, kapeesh?"

Friends?

Friends?

Did this guy have it in his head that the two of them were friends now? Sure, he may have known her father, but she wasn't fond of fraternizing with most of the people her father knew. Hell, the only reason she was even putting up with Blitzo and his crew was out of politeness, and to keep her dad happy.

Octavia shivered, "Yes."

The man nodded, "Good. Now, go off and tell your daddy I said 'hello,' I've missed him" A crooked smile curved around his lips, "...and perhaps we could even...reconnect, now that our paths have crossed again."

She didn't hesitate in leaving, waving goodbye before disappearing up the staircase, not letting her eyes leave him until she was positive he couldn't get to her.

Moxxie's claim didn't seem as outlandish now as it had five minutes ago, and she almost regretted dismissing him. In her defense, though, nobody working for somebody like Blitzo's lover was expected to be overly trustworthy.

Where was Moxxie, anyway?

Then, the memory resurfaced. She remembered the pair being near the entrance of the staircase when she had come inside, right before the stranger had come up to her.

Hoping that he and Millie were still under the skylight as they had been a few moments ago, Octavia sprinted to find him, needing to see if the descriptions matched. If they both had indeed run into the same man, which she was almost certain they had, there could be something brewing worse behind the scenes, although the exact details were uncertain.

Shoving through the crowd, she quickly spotted Moxxie, who was walking up the top set of polished stairs holding his wife's hand.

"Hey!" Octavia shouted, nearly out of breath, "I need to talk to you!"

Just then did she realize that this was the first time she had actually spoken to the imp before .And it wasn't helping.

No response.

"Moxxie, I need to talk to you. Now!" She made sure to emphasize the "Now"

Finally, the short imp turned around, his face frozen with a puzzled expression. He was as perplexed as she was by the reaction, and normally she would care, but the burning sensation that they were being watched was enough to push her past it..

"You're talking to me?" Moxxie asked with suspicion, "I-"
"I am," Octavia said, "And it's urgent."

Her voice hitched for a moment, but neither of the imps appeared to notice. Which was fine by her.

Moxxie stuttered, tugging on the collar of his shirt with his index finger, "Um, yeah, give me a second."

She stood by as Moxxie turned to face his wife, "I'll be back in just a minute, alright hun?" He nuzzled Millie's face before walking over to Octavia's side, his tail swishing back and forth.

Octavia rolled her eyes, already bored of their constant PDAs.

Ugh, was now the time to be all lovey-dovey? For all she knew the creep was right behind them. And that was not something she was okay with.

There was a bigger issue at hand, though, and she grabbed Moxxie by the collar before he could finish walking, dragging him into a corner of the room away from other patrons who might eavesdrop on them.

She pushed him up against the wall before speaking, "Don't repeat a word of what I'm about to tell you, alright?

"Yeah, yeah…" he squirmed, "B-But can you not press...directly on...my windpipe."

Sometimes it slipped her mind just how small imps were. After living amongst the wealthiest in hell, you become accustomed to large, intimidating figures, instead of small, bite-sized imps like Moxxie. He looked as if something as small as a sneeze would break his ribs, as fragile as fine china.

Realizing how rough she was being, she released the pressure on his windpipe. The little guy took in a deep breath before breaking out into a brief coughing fit, a pang of regret shooting up into what she thought was her heart.

"Sorry," she sighed, letting him go, "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"No, it's fine," Moxxie laughed, "I've had worse."

There was an awkward pause between their words, and Octavia was suddenly wishing this hadn't been their first interaction. She didn't consider herself socially inept by any means, but she found herself feeling increasingly more uncomfortable as the silence continued, nearly forgetting what she was there to discuss.

"Anyways…" Moxxie trailed off, "W-What did you want to talk about…? You seemed pretty worked up back there…"

Octavia shook her head to gather her senses again, "That man you saw back at the dock…"

"What about him?"

Moxxie appeared almost worried.

"Some dude in a dark suit and a black cane came up to me and claimed he knew my father. He got all up in my face and stuff. Just generally creepy and off-putting. He had a monocle…"

"Over his right eye?"

She turned her head, "...Yep."

Her suspicion had been confirmed. The two of them wordlessly exchanged a worried glance, Moxxie looking like he was about to throw up.

Now what?

They both glanced over their shoulders at the same time, making sure nobody was watching or eavesdropping, united in fear. Terror had been struck into their hearts by a man they had only interacted with for five minutes, the image burned into Octavia's mind.

More questions were raised than answered, though, and judging from the quizzical furrow in Moxxie's brow, he was already running through the possibilities.

"Little bastard's definitely up to something" Octavia said, pausing as a dark thought hit her, "Do you think he knows we're traveling together?"

The imp only responded with a nervous shrug, gritting his teeth in an uncomfortable smile, "I have no idea, M-Ms. Goetia."

He addressed her with the utmost reverence, which she typically would have been flattered by. But all it did now was make her feel uncomfortable.

"Octavia."

"What?"

"Call me Octavia, 'Ms. Goetia' sounds too much like my mother."

"A-Alright, Octavia."

Octavia held out her hand, "I don't think we've formally met." She mimicked her father's overy-saturated speaking and mannerisms, "Octavia Goetia."

He timidly reached out to shake her hand, flinching as if he were expecting her to slap him if he got too close, "M-Moxxie. Nice to meet you."
"I'm not gonna hurt you or anything," She laughed, "As long as you don't give me a reason to, anyway."

Moxxie shied away, seeming on edge, "I-I'll take your word for it."

For such a little fella, he harbored a lot of nervous energy, fidgeting with his fingers and trying to discreetly wipe sweat from his forehead. She also noticed that he was refusing to look her in the eye, his gaze focused on her nose instead.

Seriously, what the hell did Millie see in this guy?

Maybe she was scaring him? Most people were intimidated by Octavia, but never once had she considered herself actually driving fear into someone's heart. Being an imp, she assumed Moxxie had to be cautious around anybody higher up, since he could easily be killed with little consequence. He didn't have the luxury of constant security and fear of consequences that she did.

Did he think she was going to kill him or something? She had slammed him into a wall just a few minutes ago, but hadn't she apologized? Plus, he didn't seem to be hurt, not having any visible scars or bruises.

Now she was feeling the smallest twinge of remorse. Sure, she liked the idea of being able to scare people, but when it was directed at somebody so small and helpless, it felt wrong, even to her. She didn't share her mother's contemptuous attitude towards imps.

"W-What should we do now?" Moxxie asked timidly.

"Well, looking me in the eyes might help," Octavia leaned back against the wall, "Don't look at me like I'm some sort of pariah or something."

He slowly raised his head, "A-Alright, is this better?"

"Yeah, fine. Whatever. I don't really care."

She reached up and straightened her hair out, before looking behind her shoulders again for extra measure.

"Anyways…" she breathed deeply, "I'll speak with my dad about it, but don't repeat anything about this to anybody else until we know more. Especially that Blitzo character, or Blitz, or whatever his name is. I don't trust him."

"And rightfully so," Moxxie replied, "I won't tell him anything, I promise."

"Good, you can go back to your wife then, suck some more face in the elevator or something."

His face turned a shade of deep red as he chuckled nervously, "Oh...you saw that, didn't you."

"It was hard not to"

"Ah…"

Moxxie ignored her words and waved before taking off, either eager to get away from her, or happy to be back with his wife. And she couldn't tell which one it was.

With her worries confirmed, she set off to find her father, avoiding the most empty parts of the ship just in case the suited man made an appearance again. Chances were, he wasn't going to try anything malicious with the child of a royal like he would with an imp, but she decided to err on the side of caution.

Dad, you'd better know what the hell is going on. Because I sure as hell don't.