Chapter 28: Velvet's Marionettes (Birthday, Part 2)
Velvet almost caused thirteen different lethal traffic jams when she left the Seventeenth Brunch and drove to her private mansion, a gothic dollhouse with white windowsills and velvet red tiles surrounded by candy-colored plants in a fence garden. With Valentino currently doing private orgy auditions, Velvet and Vox had planned on spending the weekend away from him in Velvet's mansion. Honestly, they had planned on doing nothing but streaming the Internet to popularize memes when Velvet had realized she had forgotten that December was her turn to go to the Seventeenth Brunch.
A brunch she wished to have missed.
The doll sinners working on her property immediately ran away as Velvet walked out of her car and into her house. The imps straightening her framed selfies aimed for the nearest closet as the Overlord stormed through the hallways to reach her elevator. She punched the button leading to Vox's suite (she was that generous, she gave her BFF his own floor).
That blasted butterfly…
The elevator doors opened.
"Voxy! I'm back! And… WHAT THE FUCK?" Velvet exclaimed.
Vox dropped his phone. He was in the middle of taking a personal picture of some project he was doing while Velvet was gone. And his project had NOTHING to do with his Overlord duties.
Velvet was speechless at the sight of the Asmodeus-brand sex doll lying on Vox's coffee table. It wouldn't have been weird at all if Velvet hadn't just walked in on Vox taking pictures of a sex doll posing on a table… to be a reference model as Vox transferred his pictures to his computer.
Digitally editing the photo.
Fantasizing that it was someone else and not the sex doll posing on the coffee table.
Velvet REALLY couldn't get Vox's obsession with the Radio Demon. Well, she couldn't entirely judge him; Alastor was one of Hell's most untouchable bachelors.
"Vel! Seriously! Warn a guy, next time!" Vox scolded her. He picked up his phone and caressed Vark, his pet baby shark. The creature had been napping under his master's desk. Velvet smiled a bit at the shark. Vox's genuine doting on the creature, and said creature's appetite for demons who crossed Vox, was why Velvet didn't torture Vark and turn him into a toy shark.
She pressed the button 'Tea' from the list of buttons on a wall panel. In a matter of minutes, some marionette demoness maids came in, pushing a cart full of tea kettles, sugar bowls, scones, and Velvet's personal favorite. Fifteen types of red velvet-flavored cupcakes and cake slices. The maids ran off, their legs and arms wobbling around like the puppets they were.
"So… how was the brunch?" Vox saved his personal project on the computer. The sex doll summersaulted off the coffee table and strutted her way out. Velvet pointed a finger at the doll. A black bolt escaped her nail, striking the doll and melting it into a demon-sized puddle of tar. The tar sank into the navy-blue carpeted floor, finally disappearing until only a large, black body-shaped stain was left on it.
Vox didn't really freak at the site of Velvet messing his suite. At this rate, body-shaped black stains were everywhere in the doll's house… Like dead bodies' silhouettes being outlined on the very spot they were murdered.
"The usual shit, huh?" Vox sat down on one of his black leather armchairs. Vark went to curl up by his feet. "Good thing we each take turns. Your next Seventeenth Brunch won't be until March. It's my turn in January."
Vox was half-wrong. On the half-right side of things, Velvet WASN'T a fan of the Seventeenth Brunch. She went there every March, June, September, and December. Always surrounded by Overlords and Goetia nobles she didn't like or they weren't popular enough. However, if it was somebody she didn't like AND was more popular than Velvet, that was a problem. Thus leading to the half-wrong side.
Velvet immediately hated the butterfly demoness. Her mere presence at the brunch felt like a threat. The Ars Goetia liked her, a good portion of the other Overlords had found her humorous and smart, Mammon's nephew could really care less, and the worst part, the Devil and His Queen had found the butterfly cute.
Scratch that, the worst part had to be when the butterfly compared her to the Annabelle doll…
Velvet hadn't noticed how zoned out she was. She finally realized it when she saw Vox staring at her. "What?" She snapped.
"You're making the face you always make whenever you met somebody you'll hate at the brunch," Vox said, eating through a cupcake. "I know how this goes. You hate someone, you fear that they'll become more popular than you, and then the next thing you know, you stop giving a damn about it when the demon either dies in the Exterminations or becomes a total nobody, a NEGATIVE nobody on social media. Whoever you're hating on now, your weird obsession is gonna sail away quickly. And you'll move on with your happy life!"
Velvet tilted her head. "What? Why is that a problem?"
"It's a little bit, how do I say it… not needed?" Vox saw the dangerous gleam in her frowning eyes. "You stress too much on who can surpass you, Velvet. After Queen Lilith Morningstar, you're the most popular girl in all of Hell. You don't have competition."
"You have enemies you and Val deal with," she pointed out.
"Anyone who fucks up Val's business is either dead or a new whore. Anyone who fucks up MY business is just dead. Nobody dares fuck up YOUR button. Unless Leviathan says otherwise, all you have to do is press a button on social media and drive hundreds of demons to social suicide."
Velvet gushed. "Aw, thanks Voxxy! That's the nicest thing I heard all day!"
Vox nodded sipped his tea. Velvet dropped about eight sugar cubes in her teacup, popping a ninth one in her mouth. She groaned in pleasure and snatched a slice of red velvet cake, licking her fingers if she found red velvet sticking on her sharp nails.
"We need to talk about what we're gonna do if Val gets out of the picture."
Vox coughed in his teacup. Blue bolts of electricity escaped his screen.
"Are you fucking serious?" Vox coughed. "Val has been collecting new whores for his business! He's getting business back on track!"
"Yeah, and then what?" Velvet leaned deeper into her chair. "Another infestation?" Pictures of that ghastly butterfly stained her head like blood. "Another situation where we get bailed out from a higher demon by Leviathan? Losing everything because of the hotel?"
"Velvet, we TALKED about this!" Vox grumbled. "Redemption is impossible and the princess will never accomplish it, especially with Val's prized whore as the sole patron! Why are you the only one that fusses about it when we have nothing to fear?"
Velvet flipped the coffee table. Cups, plates, tea, and cakes stained the carpeted floor. Vark ran to hide under Vox's desk. The maids fearfully looked from behind the door. Vox sat still in his chair while the doll demon forced the table back in place. Ominous piano tunes suddenly played from the computer and Velvet jumped on the table.
Velvet: The term 'Overlord' has the word 'over' at first.
It's a job, a career to satisfy these demons' thirsts.
We're given money and fame
As long as we're in the game!
We are not the same!
Still hiding behind the door, the maids started playing drums and bass. Velvet twirled on the table. Black bolts spun around her and Vox summoned his blue electricity to protect his technology from her black magic.
Velvet: If we're not popular, then tell me what the shit we are!
The sinners crawl to us like gods.
Our trends are law, but watch the odds!
One mistake and we're done! Things explode, even stars!
The collision of the black magical bolts and blue electricity caused a chain reaction. Electric, colorful silhouettes of all the Overlords circled Vox and Velvet. Velvet twirled around the Overlords illusions.
Velvet: A fight of hate and trust,
That's the price to be Hell's upper crust!
You must take what you want, and keep a powerful front!
MY WORK is psychological lust!
Velvet noticed Vox staring at her silhouette illusion of Alastor. She vaporized the illusions, clouding the suite with black clouds of thunder. Her form got larger, her locks sharpening into quills, and her limbs prolonging to twist around like marionette limbs. Vox sat back in his chair. Black magic glowed through her greyish brown skin like cracks on a porcelain doll. Her fangs were dripping bloody saliva and her eyes were filled with nothing but dark glee. As it was when she turned into her true demon form.
Velvet: Velvet's marionettes
Know that she never forgets!
MY marionettes
Can't ignore my threats!
Because I am THE VELVET!
She reverted back to her default demon form as she vocalized that last verse. She breathed deeply to catch her breath. Vox slowly clapped for her. She gave a small a curtsy.
"So?" She stood on her tiptoes. "What do you think?"
Vox raised his hand. He then poked Velvet on her non-existent nose. "You stress too much."
Velvet scowled. "That's it? I do a freaking song about why being an Overlord is important and your feedback is I STRESS TOO MUCH?" She incinerated his chair, leaving a chair-shaped black stain under his feet. She kicked the door open and stomped out.
"Dinner's at 5 without Val, wanna go to WcDonald's?" Vox shouted from his suite.
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!"
Later in the day
Fireworks were booming over Stolas' mansion.
Most of the guests had shown up. Stella's guest list was very solid, following the Goetia principles that lower-ranked nobles were forced to attend, equally-ranked nobles had the option to come, and higher-ranked nobles could come regardless if they got an invite. Naturally, most of the guests came, either because they were Stella's friends, partygoers who truly wanted to congratulate Octavia for being of age, and the majority just wanted to spot the newest favorite of Octavia's grandfather.
It didn't exactly help that rumors of the Seventeenth Brunch had been spread and Duke Barbatos and Zepar's son, Marquis Shax, were among the optional and required guest lists due to their ranks.
The guests were in the ballroom, admiring the floral decorations and the small butterflies flying around. Imp servants catered at the buffet table or went around serving finger foods and champagne glasses. Near the windows, a small orchestra was playing.
Octavia peaked behind the red curtain concealing the doorway leading from the hallway to the ballroom. "I don't want to do this."
"It'll be fine." Indigo straightened Octavia's black cape.
"It's NOT fine! I'm surrounded by people I DON'T want to be near with! Well, except you…" Octavia groaned. She really didn't want this birthday party. Her mother had already insisted on it, but now her grandfather…
"Look, it'll go fast!" Indigo wiped some dust off Octavia's tiara and put it back on the latter's head. "You step in, you thank them for coming, you blow candles, you open one present, and then you pretend you got stomachache, and I take you back to your room! Then we watch a movie while eating a bunch of junk food… Then, you know, we can make up for this shit… Maybe next week, we can do something fun with the others. You know, a makeup birthday party."
Octavia wanted to cry but she couldn't due to what awaited her.
Indigo… She was just… something. Why was she here for Octavia when most of her biological family wasn't? Paimon wouldn't even let Stolas be right here to reassure her; her father had to be with the others as the host. Stolas had spent an hours putting healing ointment on Indigo's feet due to those glass shoes cutting her (and her blood drops creating toe-sized, zombie-like butterflies, which was just fucked up), but despite the pain it caused her, Indigo was clearly forcing herself to suck it up. When they had returned from the brunch, a whole swarm of large butterflies had exploded the attic. Why? Because Indigo had put so much effort to bottle up her emotions at the brunch! So she wouldn't ruin things for Octavia on her birthday!
Clapping was heard from behind the window. Octavia straightened up, doing her best to look as princely as possible. She could feel every single feather on her shaking.
"Members of the Goetia family! Nobles of the Ars Goetia! We proudly present the 36th ranked princess and tonight's guest of honor! Princess Octavia Natasha Goetia!"
Indigo coughed out a chuckle. "Natasha? That's your middle name?"
"Yeah, yeah!" Octavia dismissed her. The curtains pulled. Who knew how many avian demons were staring at Octavia, clapping for her. Pinching her gown's skirt with just her thumbs and index fingers, Octavia curtsied before the crowd. Indigo applauded next to her.
"And now, per custom, the birthday princess and her partner will open the dance floor!"
If Octavia had been the Radio Demon, the air would have filled with static scratch. In all the commotion and thanks to her shitty grandfather pulling strings so Octavia would spend time with Indigo at her party, Octavia nearly forgot the ONE crucial thing.
Flashback to Chapter 18, after Indigo and Octavia had ditched the adults
"OK. Your turn. Tell me something you would never tell anyone in all of Hell."
After leaving Stolas and Andrealphus, Octavia had taken Indigo to her room. While drinking spare tea and eating through some Stylish Occult candies Octavia hid well, the girls were just, well, talking and sharing stuff.
"OK! OK!" Octavia inhaled. "I like jazz."
Indigo laughed. "Seriously? YOU like jazz? I heard your playlist, Via! You don't have jazz!"
"Yeah, but that's because I don't want some hacker to find out and I get humiliated on Voxtagram! BUT, I do like going to Hell's Jazz Fest in February. The event's fun and they got this neat taxidermy tent!"
"Of course…"
"Your turn. What's something you REALLY don't want anyone in Hell to know… besides me?"
At that moment, Indigo had jumped and double-checked to make sure the door was locked and the curtains were covering the windows. After sitting back down, she inhaled.
"I… used to dance."
Octavia had frowned. "Uh, like strip dancing or…"
"Like FIGURE SKATING! Ice dance, you know?" Indigo had groaned. "You've seen my room. I used to be in competitions… until I got pushed down the stairs at thirteen and my surgery made it impossible for me to dance in public again. And by the time I recovered… I didn't want anybody to see me! Angel Dust caught be doing it when I was cleaning the stables and I almost went viral!"
Octavia had been surprised. "Well… Hell tends to give sinners new bodies upon arrival that can make them do anything they couldn't do back on Earth. Why don't you want to dance again?"
"Just not in public! The last time I was about to perform… Well, I don't know what I did wrong for her to decide to push me. I don't want to go through all of that again… Ice skating meant everything to me until that accident. I don't want the same in Hell, you know? I just don't want people to see me dance."
Back to Chapter 28
There was no way Octavia could force Indigo to go through that! Aside from exposure to relived trauma, Indigo might as well drop everything and leave her friendship with Octavia behind.
No. Just no! At this rate, Octavia would rather face societal suicide than do that! She began to take a step back…
She felt Indigo holding her hand.
Octavia looked at her. "Are you nuts?" She whispered.
Indigo just shook her head. "Can you do the Viennese waltz?" She whispered back.
"Yeah, but…"
Indigo bowed before her. Knowing everyone was staring at them, Octavia curtsied to Indigo before the latter escorted her to the dance floor. At the center, Octavia felt her face burning when Indigo took the lead, holding Octavia's right hand with her left one while Indigo's spare hand cautiously held onto the princess' waist. Not deep enough to be creepy but close enough that Octavia could feel the hearts pounding in their ribcages. Picking up on their pose, the small orchestra started playing the waltz.
What happened next seemed beyond impossible for Octavia.
Indigo guided her step-by-step. Despite the hundreds of eyes, royal and commoners, staring at them, she was unfazed. Despite the glass shoes cutting her skin again, she stepped so quickly, some could see that she almost stood at the literal tips of her shoes. When spinning Octavia into twirls, her fingers didn't slip once. Her hand still held onto the princess. Octavia might as well have been lighter than a feather.
The guests were mesmerized by the nearly heavenly dance they were seeing. Octavia forgot they were staring at them. All she could see was Indigo leading her.
Now it seemed to make sense. Why the accident had damaged Indigo's self-esteem of performance. Why she'd been pushed in the first place. From a third party's perspective, Indigo was dancing like an angel. Not just because it was beautiful, but because the mere dancing made them hallucinate an aura around her. The warm kind. For the audience, it was an actual angel blessing them with its performance. For Octavia, the dance partner, she was being held by a guardian angel. The butterflies flying around in circles didn't help, as they just reinforced the idea of a halo over Indigo.
Maybe that's what Indigo was. A wonderful, fallen angel.
Then came the dip. Indigo bended, standing on merely one foot while the other one was stretched out from behind. She dipped Octavia, whose feet weakened and her arms spread out. Indigo holding her waist was the only thing preventing Octavia from falling. It was… just impossible to describe. For an angelic ex-ice dancer, Indigo had a ballerina's flexibility in arabesque.
The Ars Goetia nobles broke out the applause. Indigo helped Octavia stand up properly.
"I… Uh… Thanks!" Octavia blurted out.
Thanks? She mentally screamed to herself. What was wrong with her.
There was still an hour or so before they'd bring in the cake. While many nobles went out dancing, a majority started crowding Indigo. Octavia saw her coiling. Her indifferent expression was starting to break.
"Truly gifted!"
"Are you certain you're a sinner?"
"I haven't seen such a performance since…"
"Where did you learn?"
"Won't you perform for us?"
"May I dance with you?"
"My birthday, MY partner!" Octavia took Indigo's hand and pulled her away from the annoying aristocratic admirers. "Now if you'll excuse us, WE will be hitting the buffet… ALONE!"
By the time they reached the buffet table, Indigo was starting to breathe quickly.
"Well, if it isn't the dancing couple of the day!" Much to Octavia's displeasure, Naberius had shown up with Shax. The latter was carrying a tray with thirteen empty glasses and one bottle of snake wine.
"What do you want?" Octavia snapped.
"Drink my mind off. No offense, but this party is shit besides the decorations and your little Dancing With The Sinners number." Shax put the tray on the table and filled himself a glass of snake wine. He coughed at the first taste. "Gah! Vipers are so gross!" He drank the whole glass and refilled it.
"Why are you drinking it if you hate the taste?" Indigo's curiosity made her stop hyperventilating.
"Try it and you'll know…" Shax held out the glass.
Octavia tensed. She'd completely forgotten that aside from when it was cooked in dishes, Indigo didn't really drink alcohol. For a girl who never once sinned in life, alcoholic consumption, even for an experimental taste, was an automatic taste. Indigo sniffed the glass, but then Octavia saw the quick purple shine in her eyes. After learning her secret, Octavia knew about the sin-detecting vision. The one that helped Indigo detect the number of sins in sentient and non-sentient items.
Indigo gagged and stepped back. A couple Gonepteryx cleopatras escaped. "No thank you!" She pushed the glass away from her.
Guess it wasn't envious enough for her, Octavia thought in reassurance.
Shax caught one of the yellow butterflies. Without a second thought, he crushed the bug in his fist, dropping its powdery remains into his snake wine. He took a quick sip and licked his lips. "Hm…" The red stork demon pondered. "Tastes like disgust and a REAL disdain for our peers' snobbery. I still don't like vipers for snake wine, but I wouldn't mind using your emotional bugs as condiments."
"Since when are you an emotional empath?" Octavia questioned.
"Don't need to." Shax pointed at Indigo. "I'm a sense-blocker. I know the pros and cons of how the five senses work." He pointed at his beak. "I really don't like vipers in my snake wine, but it's common politeness. So I block my taste sense to drink the shit in… But the real trick is that once it goes down the full system, the sense returns and now I get the foul taste AFTER the drink went into my stomach." Shax pointed again at Indigo. "Emotions are just further fueled by what you see, hear, taste, smell, and touch. Oh, and we're teens. Did I forget to mention it's the WORST possible time to get emotional?"
"Thanks for the unnecessary lecture, Dr. Freud," Octavia snarked.
Shax caught another of the yellow butterflies and crushed it into his wine. It was rather strange how Indigo didn't even bat an eye at the sight of one of her bugs being crushed as a beverage condiment. "Question. When you get those butterflies, do they literally rip out of your scalp or do you have a whole microscopic nest of eggs? Like lice?"
"You never were an appropriate fellow," Naberius rolled his eyes.
"No, it's OK, Nabs," Indigo reassured him. Octavia still didn't get why Naberius was alright with being called a silly nickname like 'Nabs'. Even Kyle Ketamine called him that during their game time. Probably since Naberius didn't really have friends up until now.
"It's not the scalp. Believe me, I checked in the shower a lot," Indigo told Shax. "And it's not the eggs. I cry caterpillar eggs and… they kinda turn into butterflies depending on where they are. Oh! And recently, I found out that the longer I hold in the emotions, the larger the butterflies get."
That last sentence caused Shax to grimace. "Yeah, no. Just no."
"Well, it's not ENTIRELY bad." Indigo shrugged. "You'd be surprised by how a swarm of small bugs can inconvenience people. And the bigger butterflies are dog-sized!"
"Yeah, until you try so badly to bottle it all in, the ONE moment things go wrong and you just HAVE to let it go… Well, not to sound shitty, Octavia, but… I could literally see your attic when I got here."
Octavia gritted her teeth. Just great. And here she thought the guests would care more about the party than the visibly broken attic roof.
"AND I saw the giant bugs flying around."
Indigo took a deep breath.
"I'm just saying!" Shax held his hands up. "You bottle it down too much, those emotions will spiral out like the curses from Pandora's Box. And sinners spiral A LOT when they go full demon…"
Naberius covered Shax's beak with his hand. "We get it, Shax! Fuck, you're blunter than I am!"
"Cake time!" Stolas called above the crowd.
"Thank Satan!" Octavia sighed in relief. She turned and gasped at the sight of the seven-layered-cake being pushed in a cart. The guests certainly were surprised… and Stella was burning red. This definitely wasn't the vanilla cake with vice coconut frosting and white chocolate ganache she had commissioned.
Which is why Octavia smiled giddily.
From bottom to top, the cake's frosting was a gradient of lilac purple to astral black. White sprinkles were spread out on the layers to carefully represent constellations while an aurora borealis stood out in swirls of pink, yellow, and green frostings. Rodent skulls and taxidermy beasts made of grey sugar stood at the edges of the cake's layers like gargoyles at the top of a church. 18 candles shaped like bird talons giving the middle fingers crowned the top.
"WHAT IS THIS?" Stella exclaimed. "This is NOT the cake I commissioned! Stolas!"
"My bad! I took over the commission," Gusion pushed Stella aside. "Couldn't let you ruin such a great party with a cake obviously selected by a low rank! So my sweetie Naberius pulled some strings!"
"Yeah, no. I just asked Indigo to fix it." Naberius drank his snake wine.
"I did no such thing," Indigo denied. Naberius randomly pulled out a piece of paper from his suit and held it out. Sure enough, it had the artistic style of Indigo's sketching. The sketch matched the real cake. And the writing confirmed both her handwriting AND that this had been her 25th concept attempt. "I did…"
"Indy!" Without realizing the audience she had, Octavia gave Indigo a hug. "You did so much for me… Thank you…"
Indigo didn't have to say it. But the gasps that followed did when a mangrove skipped pounced off her hair. The Ars Goetia were more alarmed by how its height matched that of the smallest imp in the room. The girls broke the hug. Octavia saw Indigo's wide-eyed expression.
"Bottled in," Shax sang.
The guests started exclaiming.
"Oh, my Satan!"
"What is that?"
"Oh my! Is that a butterfly?"
"Why is it so big?"
This was bad. Well, Octavia knew that Indigo's… well, skillset, was some sort of knowledge to some of the Ars Goetia, but this was perhaps the first they'd all seen it happen. The way her emotional butterflies get out. Indigo was frozen with all those eyes staring at her.
"That is… just… AMAZING!" Gusion gushed. "Creating living creatures out of your mind! And you gave Octavia a giant bug for her birthday!"
Maybe Gusion was really stupid after all, but Octavia bought the trick. "Really? Indigo, you gave me a big butterfly for my taxidermy activities!" She quickly hugged Indigo and whispered in her ear. "Play along!"
"I'm glad you loved it!" Indigo smiled. Octavia knew it had to be fake. Indigo was spending too much time with the Radio Demon. She was copying his smile. "Now! How about you blow your candles?"
Octavia clapped her hands and made her way to the cart. Stolas used his magic to light blue flames on the candles.
"Isn't it just adorable how Indigo dots on Octavia far more than Stella?" Gusion claimed. "A sinner does a better job than her for Octavia's needs!"
Why was Gusion even invited? Oh, right. Her high rank.
After Monday's incident, she knew to anticipate her mother stomping out of the crowd to strike Indigo. Naturally, Octavia pushed Indigo out of the way. The back of Stella's palm scratched her cheek.
What she didn't expect was for Indigo to reach into her hair and pull out something. The giant mangrove skipper growled and pounced on Stella, pinning her to the ground. The creature inexplicable opened a mouth filled with nothing but fangs.
Indigo pointed what she had in her hands at Stella's face.
Octavia recognized the tool as part of her father's collection of gardening tool antiques.
"I thought I made it clear on day one. You don't hurt Octavia in front of me." Indigo's grasp was tight on the sickle's handle.
