Ouroboros

by Uros Osium

What would fit a tale of a new beginning? Why, a recent end. For a whole bloodline on Earth, it was the end of it all. For the remains of a botched murderous spell, it is the beginning of a life among the damned. From blood anointed by the holy servants of God, to one tainted by the Fell spell destined to consume their living essence. (M Rating just in case)

14. Anima Magica - Chapter II

Year I - Act II - Anima Magica - Chapter II

"I beg your pardon?"

Carlos wasn't the only one to groan, but he was the first one to slap both hands on his face trying to disappear. "Fuck's sake GONZALO!"

The slap Gonzalo got on the back of the head was hard enough that it almost echoed in the open courtyard. Only louder was the visible discomfort everyone showed, alongside Evelinde's and the two unaware humans' confusion, for none of the three saw not what Gonzalo had pointed out. In fact it was only when Stolas touched his left eye, the four of them widening a second later.

"Oh no." He muttered. "No, no, no, no." Everyone saw the light of magic envelop the Prince's hand. "I forgot. I shouldn't have."

Evelinde felt a bit out of her element as she ventured. "My lord?"

"So stupid." Stolas sighed as he applied whatever magic he was casting. Once done, and as he took his hand away, none of the mortals, and now it truly meant NONE, could see his wound anymore. "This is why basic disguises don't work on members of The Order." The owl's face was clearly displeased. "I'd prefer if none of you mention this to anyone else."

"I am… still lost?" Ander ventured, looking at everyone else in confusion. Ernesto seemed more or less the same way. "What just happened."

"Oh, he got his a-." A strange, pained sound escaped Gonzalo the moment Enrique nearly caved his chest with a quick jab. "You… fucker…"

"TACT, motherfucker. Do you know what that is?" Enrique hissed under his breath. While he could be a massive ass too, at least he knew when not to play with fire. The taller of the three in front could only sigh at Stolas' glare. "Sorry about that."

"Little can be done about what was seen." The Prince could only give up, defeated. "Not like it is that much of a secret. But I'd prefer to keep some of my dignity intact today." He grumbled as he offered the mortals, and demon, as warm a welcome as he could. "In any case, welcome to my humble abode. I wanted to offer all of you a more or less a warm reception, to greet all of you in a more casual way, a homely one. But as some of you saw." Stolas didn't really feel the pain all that much, but a quick touch to his eye did bring a jolt of discomfort. "I had a few… words with my wife, Stella, after she disagreed with my approach. She'd prefer to be haughty and mighty. I still think a more casual setting would be better. She made her opinion known before we parted ways for a while."

A fair few among the cousins shared looks. Granted it had been thanks to the Mark of Sin that it likely happened, but abuse from women to men was no news on Earth, if usually far more hushed. After all, at least around where they lived, if a guy ever reported abuse from a woman they'd get laughed at, then thrown out of the precinct if they went in person, instead of being given help. It was perhaps one of the reasons why things always looked so skewed in one side's favor.

Carlos was about to say something else, but opted not to. A few of the guys looked equally ready, Rosa more so when she took a step forward, being probably the most empathetic of the group. But they didn't, for two reasons.

Not only did they collectively agree not to, a quick glance and a shake of the head here and there as they saw just how badly it could go, considering Stolas didn't exactly look happy. Worse, and far more important; a new voice made its way down the stairs leading to the next floor in this manor, castle, or perhaps gilded cage. A voice refined and contemptuous that looked perfectly capable of growing shrill and rapacious the moment it benefited her.

"Seems you were right, Stolas. 'Casual' indeed." The woman, a peahen if Carlos was right in his judgment, spoke with a sneer directed at the mortals now infesting her front door. "Doubly so in fact. I would've thought someone apparently important enough to garner our Lord's attention would come here with a more… distinguished ensemble and proper attire." That sneer only deepened when she laid eyes on Evelinde. "Instead of coming here with a pretender half breed barely above a mongrel in status being the only one dressed for the occasion."

Well, there went the chance at being friendly. Civil? Sure, but not friendly.

This was Stella. A very tall, probably as tall as Stolas, slim, white peahen with long hair-like feathers with gray tips and a large gray stripe on her head and two more under her eyes, the only bits of color that could be seen in her otherwise fully white skin and/or plumage. Beyond that the woman had a pink beak and the glowing red eyes that Carlos vividly remember from Stolas, perhaps a defining characteristic of the Goetia, although the white glowing pupils were new.

Her body was lithe, but covered in a white dress with puffed sleeves and feather trimming with black accents and long black sleeve gloves to finish it all. A pompous appearance, perhaps fitting of the royal appearance the Goetia seemed to go for, if Rosie's comments about the nobles of Hell had anything to go by. Although the small crown sitting on her head and the look of self superiority she held spoke more about the woman than the aesthetics.

And Carlos didn't like it.

He quickly understood where Zana was coming from, and likely why Leonor had given this a hard pass.

A quick thought came to mind. Was she beautiful? Stupid question, sure. There were far too many things to worry about. But Carlos had to consider that, soon enough, he'd meet his 'wife', arranged by this spiteful woman no less. The thought itself didn't come from seeing Stella, but more as a reminder of what many of his cousins had told him: Most of them couldn't help but find demons attractive.

From imps to Sinners and a few other species they had seen a few of, including, of course, the succubus. Seeing things with 'magic eyes', as his grandfather put it one day, made everything prettier, 'better', in a sense. Apparently it helped everyone broaden their horizons too, or perhaps it was the fact that having things more idealized made it a much easier prospect to find a different species sexually stimulating.

So. Was Stella beautiful? Fuck yes. Even sneering down at the lot of them Carlos had to admit she was pretty. He would even bet on her having a nice pair under that dress.

He also found himself quickly considering her the living manifestation of an electrical outlet. You stick it in so something comes out, and you are still very likely going to get shocked for your troubles because this particular one clearly exists just to screw you over.

"I'd love to say it was nice meeting you, miss Stella." Carlos began, his tone faux affable as he tried his hardest not to say something far more spiteful. "But considering you are insulting not only myself but my dear Evelinde, I will refrain from lying during such an occasion."

Gonzalo didn't seem to learn, at least not enough, because he managed to slide one under his breath. "Yeah, because saying the truth would mean calling her a fucking bi-." Luckily Enrique was there to shut him up before his tone grew beyond just that.

Stella either didn't notice or didn't care. She was busy looking at Carlos with an eyebrow arched. And damn, Carlos had to admit that either it was the magic he could now see, or was it just normal for women to have exaggerated eyelashes like you were in a freaking anime? Either way, Stella's glare did not abate the young man's displeasure any more than her tone did when she began talking again.

Stella huffed, waving a hand towards the group as if they didn't matter. "At least one of you seems to have half a brain when it comes to this." A backhanded compliment. Was it a compliment? Whatever the case, at least it seemed her opinion was close to zero instead of negative. "A sad sight still, but better than nothing. I would've thought Lord Lucifer a better judge of character, but I suppose he is bored enough to pick such a strange pet project."

And it hurt most of them to admit this but, from her perspective? Yeah, they likely ranked barely above her servants. Not that any of the mortals knew. But seeing her general attitude? They were surprised she hadn't used an imp as a projectile by now.

"Dear." Stolas truly had to stretch the meaning of the word, the strain obvious in his tone as he pleaded. "Shouldn't we be showing them the barest of hospitality perhaps? Lord Lucifer did charge us with a task after all."

"The task is yours, Stolas." Stella barely turned to give her husband a sidelong glance. "All I have to do, now that he is here, is to find that… man… a Goetia fallen from grace and with little value in the grand scheme of things." She offered Carlos even less than she did Stolas. In a sense the young man thought that was an IMPROVEMENT of all things. "And seeing him? I doubt I have much to choose from. So it won't be ME the one having to spend a lifetime trying to get things to work. Teaching mortals magic? A waste of time with most of them." The delightful presence that was Stella began to walk away, paying nary a mind to the glares she was receiving. "Play your games with them, Stolas. I may even be interested to see just how many of them survive to join us for lunch. I doubt even your incompetence could kill them all in an hour or so."

It wasn't a second after she was gone that sound around the house returned. Perhaps it had been the situation itself, but Stella had sucked all the attention in the room. Or, more likely, the servants had done their best to get away from their mistress' view range. Now imps could be seen poking in and out as they made sure the lady of the house was nowhere near, obviously FAR less concerned with everyone else in the vicinity, if still respectful when they approached Stolas.

The owl, for his part, could only sneer tiredly at the space his wife had occupied a moment ago. "I hate that woman." He muttered in a defeated tone. "I try and I try, but…"

"Why not divorce?" Gonzalo, as it often was the case, fired the question without much thought. This time he found almost everyone on his side and nodding however. "Doesn't seem anything is stopping you."

"You'd think so." Stolas let out a mirthless laugh. "But there is a big reason for me not to do that."

"Daddy?"

And like a snap of the fingers, everyone's eyes turned upwards once more.

Only this time most of them could only manage an 'aww' or 'that is cute' before anything else could be said.

The only thing Carlos heard before everyone's eyes were glued to the little owlet, was Stolas' clear confusion. "Octavia? What are you doing here my dear?"

The chick, Octavia, was a little bag of cuteness perched atop the stairs. She was a small ball of fluff, or feathers to be precise. At a glance it was easy to tell Octavia was a mix of her parents; white 'mask' like face, much like her father, but her busy and wild feather like hair, as well as her tail feathers, proved to be more along the lines of her mother, although only the tips of her head feathers were graying, everything else going black. In color alone Octavia was more like Stolas than Stela, only also sharing the eyes of her mother instead of the four of her father, plus in hers you could see the pupils glowing, much like her mother's.

Such cuteness couldn't stop. Because why would it? The little girl wore a pink dress with white stars on it, with white puffy sleeves and equally white undergarments. This was a great contrast against the piece of wood the little child was hugging atop the stairs, for it showed her completely black hands and owl feet, although the detail was mostly lost to the people that just met the kid. Even the usually acidic Gonzalo seemed ready to NOT be an ass and give her a hug.

"I heard mom talking to you and… them?" And while Octavia pointed at the humans and new demon in her house, she did not pull away from her literal post. "Who are they, daddy?"

"Oh! Well, they are my new students, dear." Stolas recovered as fast as he could, offering a gentle smile to his child. "They arrived in Hell not too long ago, and Lord Lucifer asked me if I could teach them magic."

The owlet's eyes widened. "Magic?" It was clear what exactly caught her attention. "Can I watch, daddy?"

Stolas wasn't so much taken aback as he wondered what to say. Allow the humans near his daughter? That wasn't in the plan, and Carlos could easily see the doubt in the father's head as he looked at every single one of them. Powerful as a Goetia likely was, a chick was certainly nowhere near as impervious to most things as the adults, that was for sure.

He didn't get to say much though. Rosa broke lines and walked towards the stair, taking a knee there to appear smaller as she offered a smile to the child. The action had immediate results: apparently demon children being equally as weak to friendliness and a gentle demeanor as any human kid would.

Either that or you could call them gullible. But at least Stolas could trust Rosa on this one, Carlos would vouch for her above anyone else, save perhaps Javier or his own sister.

"Hey there little one. Would you like to come down?" Rosa offered with the gentlests, sweetest, most friendly tone she could. Considering Rosa was, well, Rosa, that was very easy. It also made a few of her cousins, and her brother, groan. "Shut up, all of you. Don't scare the child."

Octavia did seem tempted, but she was still cautious enough. Likely a child not shown the outside world, something Carlos would bet his life on staying that way for a long while, her curiosity was great, but so was her fear of the unknown. It hardly mattered if she was a demon or not, as while Carlos had seen very few children in his short time here, they did seem to have distinctions when it came to humans, but not as many as you'd expect from species born in Hell.

"Who are you?" Octavia asked in a voice barely audible from upstairs. "What are you?"

"I am Rosa, this idiot here." Rosa pointed at Gonzalo, giving the kid an askance look now that the cuteness wore off, at least for him. "Is my brother, Gonzalo. We are all humans, little one… Well, except for Evelinde, of course."

Evelinde managed a wave towards the child before Octavia scanned them all. "But can humans come to Hell and still be alive? Don't they become Sinners?"

"My little starfire." Stolas spoke gently as he walked towards and then up the stairs. "Most humans come to Hell that way, yes. They die and become Sinners. But not *all* of them do, even if i t is rare. And yes, most don't stay long if they do. That is why you don't know. It is likely that you won't see many more humans come around in a hundred years, my dear." As soon as Stolas was next to his daughter he picked it up, gently taking her in his arms. "And many of the ones now living among us demons are here today. Will you help daddy teach them magic, little one?"

From shyness came quietness as Octavia laid in her father's arms, but that was quickly replaced by the child almost vibrating. Whether excited from learning magic with her father or the idea of helping, or maybe the curiosity of being close to something as rare in Hell as a living human, the quiet little child burst out in excitement.

"Of course daddy! I'll help you right now!" Octavia looked next to ready to jump off her father's arms and run somewhere. "I can take them to the magic study, daddy!"

"Of course my owlet, here." Stolas, now more vibrant and clearly happy as he gently placed his daughter on the ground, motioned for her to follow him. "But do slow down my dear. We don't want you fa-."

Either Stolas was truly unlucky, or as Murphy once said 'What could go wrong will go wrong', because as soon as Octavia took a step forward the little owlet went flying. It likely didn't help that the child had been so eager that it looked more like she took off running forward instead of walking down. Likely just overeagerness coming from the little Goetia, as any children do. Whatever the reason, the scene itself was most likely as close to a heart attack as it could to some people. To others? The highlight of comedy.

Carlos really couldn't define what he saw, and this was the most sincere truth.

On one side, atop the stairs, he saw Stolas. The Goetia held a happy expression for a second as he saw his child's eagerness. That lasted until, little by little, his face morphed into something that reminded Carlos of a shocked, afraid and eye bulging caricature from a cartoon. Carlos could understand, after all he was a father that had noticed, far too late, that his daughter had jumped away from him at top speed.

Directly down the stairs with nary a damn care in the world.

Carlos' family at large was not one picture, but many.

Some, like Rosa, were looking at Octavia, now apparently trying to fly, with their eyes wide as saucers and trying to leave their sockets.

Others, like Gonzalo, had a blank expression that all but represented 'Shit, here we go again' to perfection.

The rest, including Evelinde and Carlos himself, just looked like 'Wat' had been made manifest.

Because this just had to happen to them.

One of them just couldn't give less of a shit though. Perhaps it was because it was just so obvious a Goetia wouldn't really get hurt from this fall, child or not. Or because the kid looked perfectly happy and aware of what she was doing. Whatever the case, it seemed like Octavia had done this before, likely when no one was looking. Maybe as a way to get a little thrill while living at home? Perhaps to see if anyone would come get her? The fall wasn't THAT big and a strong demon, your or not, would make it without even noticing.

So all Marcela did was take a step forwards and catch the little owl with a sound that came very close to a real life 'pomf'.

"Good catch!" Octavia seemed beyond happy and more than ready to ignore her previous shyness. Moreover, the kid was looking at Marcela in awe. "You are made of bone?"

"I am not." Marcela put the child down, giving her a little pat on the head, eliciting a little hoot from the demon child. "I am just very 'pasty'. But you almost made your dad go as white as your mother with your little jump."

The little owl frowned. "But I do it all the time!"

"And has anyone seen you doing that?" Octavia couldn't really see Marcela's eyes that well behind her hair, but the owlet could tell the teenager was giving her a 'look'. It didn't take much for Octavia to pout, look down and shake her head. "Then why do you think he got scared?"

With a pout and a harrumph, Octavia pushed herself off of Marcela's arms, landing on the floor without almost a sound.

Carlos had a realization then. His sister was as far removed from physical strength as she could be. In fact, beyond grace and dexterity, physical anything wasn't exactly Marcela's calling. A story long fall, for a child Octavia's size, should've been far too much for his sister to catch without hurting Marcela, or at least throwing her to the ground.

But Octavia was an owl.

She probably had hollow bones and weighed very little.

His first hunch had been right. The child had been doing this from time to time then. Most likely (although this was a guess), she probably found out she could do it after falling down the stairs. Considering her reactions right now, she probably had been following either one of her parents, or a servant, and was too eager. But that is largely speculation.

What wasn't speculation was Stolas looking ready to faint as he walked down to kneel in front of his daughter.

"Via! Why did you do that? Were you trying to make your poor old father faint?"

And there it was. Not the comical spectacle Carlos expected, but a father far too worried to care whether the worry was warranted or not. At least the owlet seemed to be a mix between chastised and just happy that her father was paying her attention.

"Sorry daddy… But it is fine? I have jumped from higher." Octavia noticed how her father's face morphed into worry and… shame? It was instant how the little owl realized she had done something wrong. "Daddy?"

"Don't worry Via, don't worry." Stolas let out a tired sigh. "But… When have you done all that?"

"I dunno?" And while Octavia knew she had done something wrong, she didn't know why. "Here and there, when I get bored and you aren't around, or mommy isn't, or you two are… talking loudly." The child frowned. It was clear she knew something she shouldn't by Stolas' expression, and everyone knew what it was. "No one else wants to play anyway."

Stolas hid what was obviously a pained expression through an artfully crafted smile before petting his child's head. "Then how about this?" He signaled to the family, though Stolas took a second to linger on Marcela. "Our dear visitors will come around every so often. At least once a week after today, if time and obligation permits. Magic training will take a long time, no matter how apt, or not, they shall be. Perhaps you can make a few friends during these visits?"

The owlet's eyes widened as she gained a smile before turning to Marcela. Rosa apparently had resigned herself as second fiddle, perhaps, considering her cousin had been the one to do something when the child had (apparently) needed it.

"Can we be friends?" Octavia's question made Rosa go from resigned to pouty.

"I guess." Marcela shrugged. "How old are you?"

"I am seven!" Octavia beamed, apparently supremely proud for some reason. "And soon all of you will bow down to me!"

There were a few chuckles there, though Marcela did bow. Or more like bend over, showing Octavia her eyes. "I am twelve. And I don't bow." She did offer her hand. "I am Marcela, sister to that blockhead." Marcela finished, as nonchalant as she could while using her free hand to point at Carlos.

While Octavia seemed to have forgotten she 'did something wrong', and instead began to wave at the humans around with a big smile on her face, her father didn't seem that happy-go-lucky. Instead he cleared his throat as a call to attention.

"How about you show them to the magic study? Just like you said. Make sure the practice room is fine, hmm? I don't remember if we replaced that dummy after you tried to use your fire last time." A clear white lie that was, but Octavia seemed more than happy to comply.

"Of course, daddy!" Still holding Marcela's hand, the child began to drag the unfortunate teen around. "Come with me! I'll show you where it is!"

The exuberance of the child was contagious. Nearly everyone had a smile, or at least a smirk, on their faces, save Marcela with her very much defeated (if not downright miserable) expression. Though Carlos could swear there was the barest hint of a smile there. It would be nice, perhaps miraculous even, if she made a friend.

It… would it be the first real friend?

Carlos frowned as he saw them all go. His sister needed friends outside of his family. Friends that weren't him.

Just in case something happened.

"Carlos?"

Carlos turned to face Evelinde. Of course she hadn't walked away with the others. Indeed, Stolas was eyeing the both of them with curiosity too.

"Any reason you didn't follow my daughter?" Stolas asked with a certain level of trepidation in his voice. "I am sure I was fairly open in my invitation."

Now, Carlos wasn't stupid. The fact that there were no imps around them before had its reason. There were likely ways for Stolas to make it known when he wanted someone in a room or not. As soon as he began to talk with Octavia and he became emotional the imps around had apparently scuttled away without a sound. That couldn't be just mere chance.

But why was that detail important? Because Carlos had seen imps following his family and, more importantly, Octavia. Imps that, Carlos was damn sure, were packing heat. And if it wasn't the imps, it was likely the small number of wolf figures that had managed to be inconspicuous and hugging the walls or rooms that connected directly with wherever they were going. Stolas wasn't trusting, nor was he dumb. He was good at acting and hiding the obvious however, as any good noble or politician should be.

"Various reasons in fact." Carlos wasn't an actor. Carlos was, to his constant detriment, very direct. "I wanted to talk with you first. In part because I don't want you to be alone right now."

Stolas cocked his head as he gave the young man a curious look. "Why do you say that?"

"Your wife." Curiosity instantly turned into bristling anger. "Remember why I am here? The fact that I got saddled with a three hundred year old curse? I know how manipulating, abusive partners can be." And it simmered, slowly ebbing away, but not completely. "I know it was better for me when someone was there to help." Much to Evelinde's surprise, Carlos took her gloved hand. The demoness' face turned a blushing black that Carlos did his best not to dwell on because right now he wanted to help Stolas. "And I know Eve has just as many bad experiences. Sharing, talking, letting it go, if only for a moment. Better be calm before toying with magic, right?"

The Goetic Prince took a second to look at the pair, then inhaled deeply and let it go. A quick turn, a single hand motioning for them to follow and he began to walk.

"I fear one of these days I will regret drinking this so much." He spoke, mostly to himself. "But I always keep absinthe handy for a reason."

Well, at least Carlos thought that was a start. A simple glance to the now gently smiling Evelinde, still holding his hand, almost vibrating with how happy it made her to have such a simple touch, told him that, hopefully, this would end well enough.

Again, 'hopefully'.

---

"So how are you so tall?"

"I wish I knew. But as far as I am aware? Biology likes to screw with people."

Marcela had a weird feeling when the group had entered the magic studio, and it had gotten 'worse', though not in a bad way really, the moment they crossed into the practice room. It was hard to describe, but it fit the place.

The 'magic studio' was more akin to a library, although the books themselves weren't magic, or so Octavia said. They were 'copies', but not copies, of various grimoires and magical tomes, but ones without any link to magical power whatsoever. More or less a safe way to read them, study their contents and ensure nothing would go kaboom or summon Cthulhu.

Apparently the latter could really happen and it was a drag to deal with.

Marcela was surprised none of her cousins asked questions. She sure as Hell didn't, and for a simple reason: She liked darkness, not stupidity, and knowledge wasn't always a good thing to have. A good weapon? Sure, but double edged blades weren't always a good choice.

Luckily, the area to practice magic was far simpler, in a way. Apparently it wasn't exactly IN the house, more like connected through a door that sent them all into a 'different dimension' or something like that. A pocket space, Octavia had said. Somewhere where the walls, the floor and everything was resistant to magic enough so if you messed up, and summoned a nuke, you wouldn't harm the rest of the house since even the door itself was 'reinforced' in ways Octavia didn't know and apparently not even her father could muster. From what she said this room had been made by her grandfather to test whatever he came up with.

In a way the place was drab, but you'd expect that from the area you were supposed to blast with magic that, theoretically, could level a city if misused. The floor itself was made of basalt, finely slated, while the walls were crafter out of obsidian with grotesque figures, faces screaming and other motifs that, from what little had been seen of Stolas, didn't really fit his tastes. As for the ceiling? Well… looking at magma that could, somehow, look back at you wasn't pleasant, but it was, in Marcela's humble opinion, impressive.

And yes, 'looking back at you' was the only way she could describe it. She was still unsure if the eyes, faces, and other such things were there for real or… better not think about it.

Other than that there was very little else. A few storage units made of various materials, all of them dense enough that, when two of Marcela's cousins tried to open them, the weight seemed to be immeasurable, as if they were trying to open a door the size of a mountain. Octavia, funnily enough when she saw it, opened it with a simple touch. It made for a light chuckle as the adults carried a (seemingly) normal dummy to a vacant spot the owlet had pointed at.

Once that was done everyone seemed curious about this or that. Gonzalo, for example, was trying to beat the stuffing of one of the practice dummies as it did its best to move out of the way, it even fought back once and landed Gonzalo on his ass. Others were looking up at the soft glowing magma, trying to stare at the thing, attempting to discern if it was really alive or it was just an illusion. A few looked at the walls and, one in particular, Jamba, was looking at the far side with the most serious expression Marcela had ever seen, as if there was something else there.

Or perhaps there was nothing.

Jamba had said something about 'outside' before going to check on it.

Through their own morbid curiosity, simple inquisitive nature, or desire to get physical (and be defeated by a punching bag by any other name), Marcela and Octavia had ended up as the only two holding the fort near the door. The owlet, clearly interested, began talking with the closest girl, both in age and presence, in the room.

"I wonder if I'll be that tall someday." Octavia looked upwards to the tall figure that was her companion.

"I am sure you will." Marcela didn't seem to mind the little bird's scrutiny. "Your mom is very tall, your dad is too… The only thing you have to worry about is how thin you'll get."

The owlet cocked her head. "Why?"

"You were chubby when I picked you up." Octavia gave the cutest, biggest pout Marcela had ever seen. "But you are still very light." Then she offered a confused face. "You are a little bird, like your parents. You are likely going to be very thin when you grow up, unless you become a lazy little thing."

Octavia seemed to think about that for a second, but then offered something Marcela didn't expect. "But wait. Why would I be small when mom is big? Like, she is big around the chest, and legs, and…"

"Okay, that is enough about your mom."

Marcela shut Octavia down with a finger on her beak, making a 'hoot' sound come out. Again, she was a teenager, and a very shy one at that. Pair that with the fact she was old enough to know Octavia's mother was clearly not nice and you get absolutely zero desire to talk about her. Even less if Octavia was going to mention her bits without knowing.

"How about you instead?" Without waiting for a response Marcela took Octavia up and sat the both of them on a small bench near the entrance. Likely a place for a teacher to look completely uninterested at their students, if Marcela had to go about it. "What are you like? Do you have hobbies? Perhaps you know magic already? Let's talk about stuff like that until your dad and my brother come back. How does that sound?"

Sadness quickly overcame Marcela for a second, yet it went away very quickly, mostly because she decided its source would be dealt with. Said source? Octavia's frown, and her next words.

"No one asks me about that. Only daddy." The seven year old Goetia was indeed frowning deep. "But I can tell you! And yeah, I can use a little bit of magic here. Do you mind if we take turns asking stuff?" Marcela nodded quickly, eager for the first time to truly try and make a friend. The owlet's enthusiasm was infectious. "Like, why do you wear all black and stuff?"

Good question. Horrible question. Two in one. The answer was simple.

"It is comforting. I learned to like it because I spent time there… in the dark." Marcela spoke softly, quietly enough to hardly be heard as she looked at the many shadows in the room. "It is scary at first, but in time it felt comforting. You have time to think, in the dark. Few, if any, people there. No voices, just you. Most are afraid of it, and with good reason, but there are good things there, if you look hard enough."

Octavia made a little 'oh' face and let out an aww. "I like stars." She said in the most innocent way she could before putting both hands together and clapping into existence, literally, a little star that lasted for less than a second. "Daddy sang a song to me when I had a bad dr-a nightmare. He created a portal to a large rock, began to sing and showed me the stars, a sun going boom. It made things better." This made Marcela's eyes widen, but Octavia didn't see.

There was a moment of silence before Marcela asked her own question. She shouldn't have asked, but something told her that it was important. "What was that nightmare about?"

"It was… mommy and daddy leaving me." Octavia spoke much less animated now, her voice at first being so low that even Marcela found it surprising. "I couldn't find them anywhere… I…" She frowned, no longer looking at the teen. In fact she was beginning to sound sad, probably close to thinking things she shouldn't. "Mom was angry. Daddy and her were yelling. I don't know why, but…"

"Ssh, ssh." Marcela gave the poor kid's back a rub. "Ignore that for now. Let's talk about something else."

Octavia remained silent for a second. When she spoke again it would spark a conversation that wouldn't truly change the future, just perhaps encourage it.

It was also something she had guessed the owlet was going to ask. Octavia was a sweet kid, but if she had that kind of nightmares to contend about, and if she was already this worried at just seven years old, then she had something in common with Marcela.

Granted Marcela had gone through a period of her life that had taught her about death, even before one was, as some'd put it, 'truly alive'. She would love to find those people and kill them herself, show them how nice it is to hit the 'abort' button, even if late in life. There was a sadistic pleasure in that idea, but the teen had to ignore such dark thoughts as she focused on Octavia.

"Is… is the dark… does it help?" The owlet asked, looking shy as she did so. Considering what she mentioned before, the nightmare, Marcela knew the reason behind thar particular question. "Does… it make being alone… better?"

Marcela gave a thin, sincere, but unhappy smile. "It helps when you have things you cannot talk about that bothers you. Having a sense of familiarity with it makes ignoring the feeling of loneliness much weaker, for me at least." She said, her hand gently placed on the girl's back. "It may call to you, it may not… but I can help you in the meantime. You don't always have to be alone. And you shouldn't. No one should."

The girl was alone. Not overwhelmingly, no. Marcela could tell that her father loved her, dearly. She had seen that love in her own parents' eyes. Stolas would kill, murder and do the worst things to help his daughter. Her mother? Marcela didn't know. What she DID know was that the owlet's parents had a bad relationship, and that was being nice. Worse yet: They didn't hide it, or if they did, they sure were crap at doing so. Octavia would reach for the dark by herself, with or without help unless this changed, but Marcela was mature enough to know that, if there was physical violence involved on top of it all, there was likely not much else to be done.

Marcela had seen many people back home retract unto themselves, to reach for something comforting, even if it was dark, dreary thoughts that somehow made them feel better; loners, the marginalized few, those suffering from abuse... It was always the same, although motives were different every time. When it came to Octavia? It was different too, and her being a demon didn't exclude the possibility that she'd become jaded, despondent and, most likely, a moody teen.

Octavia had no friends, she probably didn't go anywhere that didn't have her father's say so, or even her mother's, which likely meant she truly didn't go anywhere. Socializing was out of the question, adventures and normal child activities, no matter if this was Hell or not, out of Octavia's reach. Pair that with the situation at home and sooner or later the childish happiness would give way to something else, something that could stomach the pain.

She was a lonely little girl. Marcela thought that demon children would be different, but that was before she met Octavia. Now it was clear that the owlet's separation from everything, her thoughts about her father leaving, and the clear loneliness she was going through, all were affecting her. Perhaps it was Marcela's darker, more cynical thoughts, but she thought the logical conclusion was for Octavia to either grow tougher, or grow weaker. In Hell weakness was not allowed, and while Marcela hadn't seen just how much that was nailed home in everyone outside of her home, she had heard enough.

A small Goetia, all alone, and weak? Marcela didn't need to be the smartest to know that wouldn't end well. She had her father, but the problems would pile up sooner or later. Marcela had been here no more than a few minutes and they were showing. Soon enough she'd seek a way to forget about them and squash the helplessness that came with all of this. Marcela had been told that this was second nature for demons, more so than humans. A defense mechanism, a survival instinct.

But perhaps Marcela wouldn't allow that loneliness to exist for much longer. Whether it changed much for the future or not, she did not know. After all, the problems at home wouldn't just disappear. But Marcela knew she had found someone alike if nothing else.

However Octavia soon showed that perhaps this was not the time. She caught her attention the moment the little owlet made fire with her hand. "Can we… Can we change? I show you tricks… you tell me things? Not about… that. About other things? From the mortal world?"

Yeah, that worked. This was a much better plan.

Marcela, far too much of a reclusive 'grown up' of a teenager. And Octavia, a little sweet demon that was going to grow sour thanks to her family's behavior.

It was better if it all took a step back. Make things simpler.

In time, perhaps during the next visit, the next weeks, months, however long it took, they could talk about this. Marcela knew what could happen to a child that went through enough trauma, even if it wasn't the 'serious' kind. Loneliness and powerlessness were their own little monsters, and while Marcela's solution wouldn't be as effective for others, she was sure Octavia could benefit from it, if things were really going down the path she thought.

For now, she agreed. "Sure." Marcela was convinced. If her brother could try and do good while in Hell, she could do the same. "Ask me anything you'd like to know. We can talk about something more… serious, but some other day. Alright?."

The owlet nodded quickly, hooting as a smile formed on her beak. A precious sight, or so Marcela thought. She just hoped her brother would come quickly. Marcela would try, but she was out of practice with socializing outside of the family. Still…

Marcela would gladly admit that Octavia could brighten anyone's day, and her cousins would readily agree the moment they came back to interact with the girl.

---

"So yeah. That was the worst one I had." Carlos muttered, not particularly proud of that moment. "Sixteen and ALMOST raped. But whatever compulsion was there, guiding Elena, tried to push something that wasn't there. Distaste, even hate for me? Sure. Obsesive hate that leads to rape? No. Whatever distaste she had of me was enough to manipulate, lie and ultimately humiliate, but not go that far."

He would be willing to admit. Carlos could see why Leonor liked absinthe. The alcohol, what little (very little) he had was making him feel less crap about admitting his pains.

And he didn't get much more than a glass because Stolas could truly down the green liquid.

"Ironic how that was the 'nicest breakup' I ever had." Carlos chuckled, although it was clear the memory was far from pleasant. "In the end she truly and genuinely asked for forgiveness. I had learned far too well to identify when someone was trying to bullshit me, and she was willing to do anything, even confess to the police. It was clear she hadn't been in control." The young man frowned. The thing that started this clearly in his mind. "The only time the Mark of Sin probably overplayed its hand. She is, or was, while I still talked with her, one of the sweetest people I managed to meet. Whatever compulsion she was given, it was just too much for her." Carlos let out a sigh. "Looking back, most of the people that treated any of us horribly were indeed very good, caring people. The woman that did this to us however? She forced all their vitriol through the curse, and with it very little reason to not be horrible."

"I'd still ask you to let me gut all of those people."

Evelinde had also partaken, a bit more than Carlos perhaps. But she could take it. Her anger and bloodlust were just natural when she found how much Carlos' previous 'girlfriends' hurt him.

Carlos could only smile, but he did need to calm her down. "Appreciate the sentiment, I truly do. But you and I know that, as vengeful as I am, there is someone that deserves that visceral hatred, and it is not them."

Another reason for his openness, or perhaps happiness that negated the more negative thoughts, was how eager Evelinde was when holding his hand. It was… different. Felt right. Scary too.

The idea of being stabbed in the back, or just lied to, was far scarier now. Not because of Lucifer, or his stay in Hell.

This time it felt as if failure would truly mean finality. It was a scary, nagging feeling biting at his mind.

In a month he had gotten to know Evelinde well, all the girls really. Not all had opened fully, not even Evelinde, but all she had said was… horrific. She was a psychotic man, well, womanchild full of morbid curiosity and bloodthirsty glee. She would murder for fun and food and she'd die for her Lady if given the order.

But she was sincere in her romantic feelings and loyal to a fault, much like Carlos. He still did his best to put up a wall for now, but their moments, like simply holding hands, were becoming more common.

And, to be honest, Carlos needed them. There was so much stress and fear that he couldn't show, not to speak of the physical pain itself. He was an expert at hiding such things at this point, but he was aware of the ugliest truth of them all.

You can't hold the damn forever. At some point it will rupture.

"I have to admit I envy you now." Stolas cut through the moment like a hot knife through butter. And he was expected to. The owl's face didn't look happy. "Although it seems like you did have to fight for something that is nowhere near a normal relationship."

Carlos couldn't help but deadpan. "I HAD to kill someone for it. Almost everyone that volunteered to work for Rosie killed someone." An admission that clearly had a positive effect as Evelinde's already large smile only widened. In a way she likely felt that everyone having murdered someone probably made them 'closer' to her. That was at least what Carlos thought, and he wasn't far off. "But the present, for me, is not the point, Stolas. I shared the shit I went through for a reason."

"My own little tale was to drive a point too, my good prince." Evelinde managed to tear herself away from her attempts at something more than touching hands.

It was clear that Carlos either didn't get the hint, or he wasn't ready. Better support him however. A good woman supports her man, and Evelinde was going to make sure she'd be there more than any other as many times as she could.

So she kept going. "Few of my possible lovers didn't try to kill me. A normal practice sometimes. We are a vicious lot, that is true, but with me… I think I have made clear how overly common it was. Far too much in fact." And, as Carlos had said, it was a funny coincidence. Apparently everyone in her little love group had the worst kind of luck. She paid it little mind however. 'Good luck' in Hell was hard to come by as is, so nothing special. "The three of us have had horrible luck with love, but, as Carlos mentioned, I need not hazard a guess to say you have never been able to talk about it, my prince."

No, of course not. Stolas had never been given the chance. He had used outlets, of course. Journals, talking to himself, practicing magic with hideous intents as he pictured a particular person as the target.

But never had the opportunity to share his pain, to have someone to talk to.

"What is there to say?" Stolas felt dejection at the idea of opening up, but the desire to vent was far too strong. "I was betrothed to Stella the moment I was considered old enough to start learning of my duties. We married as soon as we both were 'prepared'. The fact that I was grown up when we were told to do more than be together, or that she was equally 'mature', had been coincidental. No one would have cared if we were considered 'underage', had we been capable enough of having a heir, as was our task. We were just in our prime and with the basics mastered to the point of being competent." He let out a sigh, complaining in his mind as his bottle offered no more liquid counsel. "So we married, we mingled, or tried to. And when we were told? We did as we were meant to: We had a heir. A precaution my father drilled into me, a safety net for our line. And the only thing I don't really regret when it comes to this mess."

Carlos would've done his best to keep his 'best act' up, but the mental image was too much. "That is fucking brutal, ain't it?"

"Pragmatic, as my father would say." Stolas didn't think any less of the man. He had said no lies with those few words of his. Had he harbored some resentment that still remained? For sure, and for many reasons. But his father hadn't been wrong when it came to the hard facts of their life as Goetia. "And necessary. I have many siblings, and any of them dying before achieving what I have means my father either needs to sire a new one, or someone else has stolen part of what is ours, with my father not only requiring a new heir, but a battle to regain our legacy. Cruel as my father may be, and I am not excusing him, he is well aware that at least part of his act is a must, if merciless and cold. Distasteful, yes, but this is Hell." At this Stolas made sure to face Carlos, four eyes looking straight at him. "We do what we must."

"True, true." And Carlos knew it was. He had more than enough proof of that the first day. "But the deed is done. You have a child, she clearly loves you, and your wife is a massive bitch, if you pardon the expression." Although by Stolas' happy hoots it was clear that there was nothing to forgive. "Though I suppose it is not so simple?"

"Is it ever easy to solve a problem like this?" Rhetorical, but Stolas felt the need. "But no, no it isn't. I could divorce, true, but I WANT to try and make things right between us. Stella is cruel, brutal and acidic in as many ways as she can. Pain and violence aren't really new, or important. Goetia are far more resilient than most demons, although small things like that bruise may develop without us truly feeling much." And by his annoyed tone it was clear that he had been lax on his covering of such minor blemishes before. "I wish no harm upon my wife, dreadful demeanors aside, so I see no reason to stop her if she wants to be physical. It bothers me far more when she starts running her mouth, but that is one thing I really can't stop even if I tried."

"Then you are already a better person than I." Carlos admitted without even thinking about it. It had a reaction from Evelinde; that grin of hers growing wider, proud in a sense, at his clear cruelty, deserved or not. Meanwhile Stolas couldn't help but look at the young man as a more dangerous, perhaps unrepentant, person that he thought him to be. "Then again, I haven't grown up in these conditions. Supposedly my people were meant to be far nicer than they have been to me. I'd guess Hell is far harsher on average, which makes my situation even worse when you consider I see this as just 'above normal' when it comes to how messed up it is."

"Yes." Evelinde was quick to affirm. Pleased of his desire to dish out violence or not, she did not want him to fall down the rabbit hole and get angry, or moody, now. "For everyone. Suffering is mandatory, after all."

"We are all prisoners, in a way." Stolas hums a mirthless laugh. "Besides, I wouldn't do anything towards her even if I wanted to. Much as I may dislike the woman, and I have learned to do so with fervor over the years despite my hopes, I wish to give my daughter as much of a normal childhood as I can. Having her mother hurt, or worse, would harm my little owlet too. I will NEVER allow such a thing."

Neither demon could hear, not even Evelinde, for neither could peer through Carlos' mind. The simplest thought he wanted voiced was 'Good luck with that', but it went unsaid in the end. That'd be cruel, if true, and while truth is something he valued above all else, there was hope for the little owlet to indeed have a normal childhood.

Then again… Perhaps it was just the looks and mannerisms, but Carlos had to ask. Because if Stolas wanted his daughter to be happy, then, at some point, Stolas would need to fight for his own happiness too, or achieve nothing.

"Are you gay, Stolas?" Blunt and to the point. Do it like a bandaid. That would either get you killed or an honest response.

"Gay?" Surprisingly enough, Stolas didn't seem to react. "I don't think so, no?" Although there wasn't much conviction there. "I mean, I can easily appreciate a man's own beauty, if that is what you mean."

Ah. That told Carlos much already. "Then bisexual?"

Evelinde did her best to try and save her (still future) lover from his bumbling. "Carlos. Demons do not exactly fit the way you think." She gave his hand a little squeeze. "Some of us like certain things more than others, but we weren't made as humans are. Even Sinners, once they arrive and change, will notice it too: They are no longer human in body, maybe not even in mind, and certain things do not work as before." She made a pause, allowing Carlos to nod as he slowly came to understand her words.

Perhaps it was her proximity to the mortals, but Evelinde found her next words harder to say than she had expected. It was fear. Fear of having her partner stop being human, because there was a chance he'd stop being himself, and Evelinde had found her time with the family to be most enjoyable, if a bit bland. Not enough bloodseed, but Carlos' affections, even if distant, had been a breath of fresh air.

Still, the lesson had to be imparted. "Sinners I have met, those that still looked back to their human lives, explained a few things. Not only are they compelled even harder to go for their vices and sins, but their minds change at least a little bit. And that is the point: the greatest change is not physical, but mental. One of those changes is… well, their 'preferences'. Although it may take time for humans to find out, if they ever care to do so. More often than not they won't even explore the possibility, even the oldest Sinners seem to remain the same, with few giving in to their more demonic side and mind."

That was the most mature and serious Evelinde had been in days, and Stolas seemed intent on driving the point home as he spoke. "Dear Evelinde is right. Demons do not work the same way humans do, young man. I'll admit that I find the female form less attractive, perhaps thanks to my wife's antics and the trauma that has to do with my arranged marriage." An angry hooting could be heard being repressed behind Stolas' beak. "But while most of us won't mind being labeled as humans do, I'd recommend you don't do so lightly. Most won't care after all, but others will be as aggressive as some of the most… mentally fragile mortals in your world."

Carlos made sure to keep it all in mind. New knowledge was good, that it was making things even weirder wasn't as nice. Swell overall, like almost everything he learned about Hell.

Whatever. The information wasn't really important. Useful? Sure, but it was something he could file for later. In fact it made things easier, both now and in the future.

"Still makes my question valid." Carlos opted to go for the throat. "Have you ever been interested in someone else? Man, woman, I don't care. Thing is; are you dissatisfied with your wife for something OTHER than her personality?"

Stolas chuckled, offering a light smile, but then he sighed. Of course there were more reasons.

"I know what you are trying to do, Carlos. A nice offer, at least I think so." He let out a very tired breath. The prince could have power, clout, but it was very tiring, lonely and largely miserable up here. "But I meant it. Whether I found someone interesting or not, what does it matter? I intend to make my little owlet's life as happy as can be… or at least try."

"And I am not saying you should do otherwise. It is clear you are adamant on this path, something I'll respect. I know I wouldn't be able to do as you have if someone betrayed me or hurt me." There was no hint, no look, and no implication there. Evelinde knew that when Carlos kept on talking, but had the man looked he'd seen a small glint of doubt.

His next words didn't make it better.

"It has been just a month, I cannot say my past doubts have gone away." Carlos opted to be honest. Stolas nodded and Evelinde felt herself shrink away. "I don't know why. Perhaps the problem is shock from this all, though if that is the case, it is taking too long to go away. Or perhaps the fact that I have never been in a relationship both out of my control and with more than one person? It doesn't help in any way that I am apparently meant to have more and more women thrown at me. Many would be delighted. Me? I am terrified." And he looked the part, even if he didn't want to, because Evelinde looked clearly hurt. "I want to, but I can't lower my guard. I am not ashamed to say this is beyond overwhelming, and perhaps not only for me."

So perhaps she had done wrong. Perhaps she shouldn't have been here. Evelinde's own doubts were making her way down to her stomach, and the idea of what had looked like the best chance she got in years going away was making her sick.

Then Carlos took her hand once more.

"But I am going to try." The man was giving her the most sincere smile he could. It was one with pain and fear, true, but he was showing her the same trust she had seen since the first day. One that had been growing. "I am afraid to Hell and back, no pun intended. But that doesn't make my desire to at least TRY any less real. If the girls at my side are willing to give this fucking coward a chance." His words were stumbling, almost stammering. He was clearly worrying of saying far too much or being an idiot, or seen as a burden. Confidence, despite appearances, had never been his forte. "I want to give all of them the best I can offer. Not only because the contract allows me to do the same to my family, not because each one of them means one favor from Lucifer. I do this because those I have met, despite being not what most humans would like, have great qualities that I can admire. And Evelinde?" Carlos squeezed the Cambion's hand as he looked at the woman with sincerity coating his voice. "Even if Lucifer told me that he changed the contract somehow, I would still be with you and the others, if you wanted to remain."

So maybe it was cornier than she thought, and not the best speech, but Eve did nod with a toothy smile back on her face. For a second she had thought he was having doubts, and he probably did have some, but if he had the guts to air this in front of the prince, then backing out would be very stupid indeed.

Mostly because he wasn't done.

Shame, because stopping now would've given the Cambion a second chance. Evelinde felt the opportunity spring, then leave her. She had waited too long the moment she noticed his eyes on her in a way that made her heart beat harder. It had been the perfect moment to take her chance and go for a kiss. To win another first place among the group and cement herself as the young man's rock A moment of weakness on Carlos' part, and probably a dirty did on her, had Evelinde jumped.

Maybe it was better this way. Has she acted they would've given the Goetic prince a small, if very tame, show. But she had gotten to know Carlos enough to be aware that, was he ready for that kind of thing, he would much prefer it to be private first. Yet she had a moment of doubt and, just like that, she felt the chance slip through her claws. For good or ill. A shame, but she had already gained more than she thought she would. Besides, a patient hunter could wait for a more appropriate time to pounce.

And Carlos just told her she had been given all the time in the world, so long as he stayed alive. That, and only that, was her only worry with this. So, as long as Carlos got in Stolas' good graces, she had no problems with waiting more and making nice with someone that, if all things went well in here, would help her ensure her future love would have more chances at remaining alive.

"As such I can promise you this, Stolas." Carlos turned to face the prince once more. "We don't really know each other. But from a man that knows how life can fuck us over in a relationship to another, I swear: I'll help you with whoever you want if you ever tell your wife to shod off and punch sand." Then he made a pause. "Within reason. I am not going to help you with it if you go for someone in my family or if that someone wants to kill me, but I doubt that'd be a problem."

Stolas looked at the human for a second. Even Evelinde thought Carlos had either grown too bold, or too crazy. In the end Stolas could only giggle and hoot like an idiot after a moment of silence.

Admittedly enough, it was not a bad sound. And the Goetia was, if nothing else, far cuter than any human or demon had thought possible.

Perhaps that was where Octavia had gotten it from?

"Oh my, oh my." Stolas took a deep breath, a hiccup or two escaping his beak. Luckily that bottle wasn't one of the big ones and his metabolism was robust enough for him not to say something stupid. "Such a kind offer, my good man. I hope you understand that, were it to ever happen, I will outright abuse your promise."

"I won't even need to make a deal with you. I don't swear lightly, at least in this context." And Carlos meant it too. He was beyond serious. "Consider it repayment for the magic lessons."

Stolas just looked at the man with curiosity. "You do know it is my duty, imposed by Lucifer, right? One I'll do gladly, all things considered, but still a duty I HAVE to do. You owe me nothing for it. Many would say otherwise, but I see no reason to indebt you into my service for such a thing."

"Yeah, well, I don't like handouts." Carlos grumbled, very, very weakly. Then he sighed and admitted it outright. "And I am also extremely petty. Towards your wife I will act with respect and thinly veiled insults, she deserves that much because this is her home and I am a guest. But in just one meeting she made herself a massive cunt, insulted my family, and insulted Evelinde as well as every girl at my side, just by proxy." He squeezed the demoness' hand. A bubble of pride growing within the woman. Who wouldn't want their partner to have the balls to stick it up to a Goetia for them? Evelinde would gladly say that she knew no one would, except the young man holding her hand. "And she both showed herself potentially not only as a bad wife to you, but perhaps a bad mother to the cutest thing I have seen in Hell." And that last one Evelinde agreed wholeheartedly with. "You cannot tell me that fights and whatever else she does won't ever hurt your daughter."

The Prince couldn't hide his grimace. Of course he was aware that, despite his best attempts, if things didn't get better it would end up affecting his child. Perhaps it already had. But he would sacrifice much before giving up. Giving up only made things worse.

"I will hold your offer in consideration, until the day I MAY decide to act on it." Stolas chose to take this offer. Worst came to worst, it would never be used. If they grew rapport and things changed in the future however… "If nothing else this feels… Nice, I'd say. It is a very rare moment indeed when anyone in Hell is allowed themselves to be vulnerable in front of another. A very human sentiment, you could say."

"Not to be an asshole, Stolas." Carlos gave the man such a deadpan look that even Evelinde noticed the moment the prince made a mistake. "But compared to most other demons I have interacted with, you are the closest to a normal human being in mannerisms." And while some would find those words insulting, the cake wasn't there. "A very flamboyant one, which is why I thought you were gay, but human. Hell, you admitted you seem to like dudes more, so I still consider that as me being correct."

Until now the back and forth had been rather amicable. Friendly even, as far as Goetia and 'lesser' demons go, not to say anything of mortals. But this comment, Evelinde feared, would be too much.

Only it wasn't.

And Stolas, while at first looking stupefied, ended up not chuckling, but full blown laughing.

Perhaps it was madness? Anger? Grief? Evelinde didn't know, the prince was laughing so hard, from the belly, as if he had gone mad. It was… it was a sincere, simple laugh from someone that hadn't had someone being sincere with him in how long? The realization hit her like a truck after ten full seconds without silence.

Then Stolas stopped, almost out of air, and sighed with a smile on his face.

"Oh, dear, oh lord. I have not experienced such bluntness in YEARS." He chuckled. "Oh, how I wish that imp had been around more. True my father was pissed when we found out he stole from us, but I think that was a well earned prize he was owed in spades. Sure showed my dad not to underestimate imps in any case."

Evelinde and Carlos shared a glance, with her offering her voice this time. "Prince Stolas?"

"Just Stolas is fine, dear Evelinde. Perhaps we may not hold the same position, but I'd like to think I can count on you the same as Carlos when it comes to some sincerity and a few blunt words. They are far more pleasing than all the brown nosing that goes around." Stolas offered a smile, far more relaxed now than before, and something Evelinde would gladly take. "As for who am I talking about? Nobody, probably. It has been long since I last saw him, back in my childhood. My first friend, perhaps the closest thing to a true friend I have had." A sad thought, even for Evelinde. Her kind were full of two faced people with GOOD reason, but she at least had a circle of 'friends', or close to it. "Many see the Goetia and think 'They have everything!'. Well, we may have magic, money and we may be resistant to nearly everything, but nothing is free."

"It is lonely at the top, eh?" Carlos didn't venture anything there. It was clear as day. "Personally, I don't give a shit about position. Perhaps some of my family would, but I prefer a more casual approach when possible. Being respectful and all is good and stuff, but if you wouldn't mind…"

"Oh, PLEASE, don't." Stolas groaned. "I HAVE to be a prissy ass all the time, at this point it is almost second nature even when I don't want to. It would be fun to have someone to interact with in a more normal way, although I may be out of practice." The owl could only grimace. "At this point it comes naturally with everyone, unless I am under duress, like today. I don't think I can allow myself to slip either, even if no one cares much if I allow my mannerisms to show here and there."

"Well." Evelinde got closer to Carlos now that the situation had relaxed. She herself felt better, and the fact that Carlos didn't shy away only made the woman happier. "I am sure Carlos and his family wouldn't mind having you over from time to time. It would be a good way to de-stress, if you ever visit. Lady Rosie would be delighted if some of the Goetia were to show a bit of favoritism her way at the very least."

"An interesting thought. Sadly, I would have to speak about it with my dear wife." And those words made it clear just how unpalatable the thought was.

It did check out, though. The lady of the house would need to know where he was, much like he would need to be told of her own whereabouts. Both were important figures, and being up to date on the other's movements was mandatory for many reasons. Inner politics and bullshit mainly, but still, necessary.

"For now I think we have taken long enough. Carlos." The human stood to attention, literally, with Evelinde rising at his side at the same time. Stolas, more gracefully, did so a second later. "We shall start as soon as we arrive. No word of any of this should spread to your family, if you could do me the favor."

"I CAN be discrete, don't worry." And so could the servants. No imp had dared approach their lord, not even close enough to hear. "You can share with the others if you ever visit, but that will be up to you."

"I thank you for that. You don't know how many would use this against me the moment they had the chance." Stolas did seem happy, or at least relaxed. It was clear the Goetia did appreciate this interaction, unpleasant as it had been at times. "It'd be liberating to have a day for myself and some 'normal' company from time to time."

Carlos couldn't hold a snort as Stolas began walking away from the room, the trio quickly moving forward. "I doubt anyone can keep doing this snobbish bullshit for more than a day without pause and not turn stupid."

Neither human nor demon saw the Goetia give a wicked grin rarely seen on his beak. "Oh, you are very much right about that. No one can."

---

A particular bird woman felt as if her ears itched all of sudden. Probably a side effect of waiting for so long for someone to PICK UP THE FUCKING PHONE! The ringing was getting to her and she didn't want to remain in her room for too long. Worst came to worst Stolas would come for one of his grimoires and she didn't want to look at the idiot right now.

Stella could only grumble and fume. Humans. HUMANS! And a damn mongrel! In her FUCKING HOUSE?!

Okay, okay. The humans could be understood. They were useful. These ones? They were more so than usual. Humans, before their mortal life was extinguished, were far more powerful than they thought. True that they gained much when they became demons, but so many things were snuffed out.

The Cambion was another thing altogether. Stella wanted her out. Out of her house. Out of her sight. She did not want a fucking hybrid within the walls of the Ars Goetia and, had she the ability to choose whether to do away with the mutt or not, the conclusion would've long gone, alongside that leech's head. Sadly, those matters were not hers to attend to.

Stella could be an incredibly predictable and overly aggressive person when angered, but she was also extremely apt at plotting and thinking things through when calm. She had been molded to be so. There was no choice in the matter. Much like with this one. She had to do what she was told. And the fact this was happening in a way she did not WANT it to, like many other things before it, was making her chafe.

Perhaps that was the origin of her anger? Of her drinking?

Stella shook her head free of those thoughts. Focus. Such waste of time was not why she was here.

Finally a voice came through. It wasn't what she expected to hear.

"Yeeellowww there. I am dreadfully sorry, but if you are trying to contact me I am so *very* busy right now." The permanently snooty tone of Andrealphus, her brother, and one of her hopes for this stint, only pissed her off as all she got was a pre recorded fucking message! "I will be away from any and all comforts for a few weeks. Do let my servants know if you are someone important or if something requires my presence. Tata, dear, have an ice time."

And a pun. Above all else, a fucking pun.

How obvious was it that Andrealphus got everything from their family? Stella would dare say she loved her brother, but he was such a fucking little shit most of the time.

No matter. There were two more on the line and waiting for her.

With a grunt she got back to the others, barely containing her anger as she spoke.

"It seems my brother is occupied far away from his holdings." Stella spoke, her beak biting hard enough for her to cut through steel. Luckily for her two friends, and some of the very few she considered useful and close enough to keep contact with, this did not translate to her screeching into the phone. "Seems it is just us."

"All the better my dear." A regal, if unbearable, tone of voice came through. The plus sized owl woman, her name being Ophelia, was perhaps one of the worst gossips of her circle. She was here for information above all else, both give and take. "I doubt your brother would've allowed us to talk much beyond business. For a cryomancer he has 'no chill', as the plebs would say."

"Ophelia is right, my good Stella. Your brother would hardly give us a chance to speak. He must be right above all else, even you." Angus was her other 'friend' and associate. A long beaked, lanky, yet 'fluffy' (if only in looks) Goetia that'd better fit as a hyena, such was his constant cackling at others' misery. A vulture to be sure, but opportunists like him came in handy. "Besides, are you truly sure we would need his aid? I find it strange that you didn't tell us what this was about. Usually you are quick to mention whatever is on your mind."

"Ugh, I know, this is just a damn mess. I wanted my brother around because he would make this quick. I have little patience to play matchmaker." Stella grumbled, her anger borderline turning into disgust. "Much less to some dang mortal."

"Mortal? Mortal…" Ophelia hummed. Of course the fat owl woman would quickly connect the dots. "Oh! The members of The Order that have fallen to Hell?! Why, I didn't know you were tasked with anything that had to do with them?"

"It is Stolas' fault." Stella grumbled, though this time it lacked bite. She despised the man, but getting positive attention from Lucifer WAS good. Still, she couldn't help but disdain him. "He got stuck teaching the mortals magic and I was tasked with helping the contract bound mortal a proper wife."

"Proper wife you say?" Angus hummed. Stella could hear his beak grinding as he thought. "Anything we should know?"

"Oh, oh, I do know!" Ophelia's overeager approach grated on the already tired Stella, but fine. The less she had to talk, the better. "Some of my associates, spies and the rumor mill says old rules meant anyone from The Order to defect to us would be given a title. An old law, one that has never been used. So, considering this isn't exactly common, of course many of us nobles would be up in arms if some outsider were to come into our territory. I personally don't give a hoot; more gossip for me is all well and good. Besides, the humans won't do much to shake the place in any meaningful way unless provoked, at least from what I am told. Still, others may not feel the same way. In fact I have heard they still will complain and bemoan the new arrivals anyway, but it would be… 'less of an issue', if said titles had to do with a disgraced family."

"Ah, I see. Diluting whatever power the man and his family could get. Hmm… shrewd. Very shrewd. I see our dear Lord is playing games to pass the time once more." Angus was right. Stella was aware that Lucifer wanted the man, and his family, alive. Castrating whatever power he could wield was a way to stop some potential problems from arising. "Anything else?"

"He already has three mistresses." Of course Ophelia would break the news down. The woman likely knew as much as Stella did, almost. If it had to do with raunchy stuff and other such things, then she'd know MORE. "He has been seen with all of them the few times he has gone out of that strange magical tower where his family resides. More often than not it is one of the two main contenders for the title of 'First Mistress'. The first of those to be seen in public was one of those sharks from Greed, Leonor was her name if I remember right. Seems she and another woman are vying for most of his attention, a Cambion of all things, more or less the woman directly under Lady Rosie, and of her same species. Her name is Evelinde, I think. She is most likely a plant by the Overlord the man is bound to ensure the young man always obey her commands."

"Don't remind me. The bottom feeder is in my house." Stella couldn't hold her disdain on that one. "Although she came in useful. The young man has some bite if you insult his clique. I feared he'd be a wimp like my husband, but he appears to have some bite."

"I'd thread carefully, Stella." Ophelia warned, perhaps more serious in her tone than Stella expected. "I doubt they would bring their weapons, but as your friend it behooves me to recommend precaution. From what I heard the family at large is rather vengeful. Not uncommon, coming from The Order. They deal with many of those playing their games in the mortal world, and retribution is what they are mainly made for."

"Yes, yes, I know." And while Stella didn't want to admit it, Ophelia was right. She could prod and stab, metaphorically speaking, but she shouldn't do anything stupid, unless the mortals did so first. Not so much in fear of them, more like she didn't want to piss off Lucifer. "So long as they remain humble in MY house, I care not."

"As they should. But still…" Angus thought aloud. "What about that third mistress, Ophelia?"

"Oh, an imp of all things. Zana is her name." Ophelia sounded aghast, and Stella found no reason to berate her. Who would pick an IMP for a mistress? "Huge at that, but not in height. I mean big in every sexual manner imaginable. From Wrath, though, which makes it even weirder. I could've seen it, were the gal from Lust, more so since she has EVERY bit, 'best of both worlds', if you know what I mean."

"Oh, by Lucifer, Ophelia." Angus sounded utterly disgusted. Not so much with the sexual topic, but by how eager his friend was to talk about it. "I prefer not to delve into whatever debauchery you are playing within your mind. Cease with that topic if you will. We have more than enough with your obsession with the damn breeders."

"Bah, spoilsport. I like those that have 'everything to offer', it is only natural. Breeders are made for a purpose and are designed to entice, you pain and torment fetishists." Ophelia huffed, hooting over the line. "But whatever. We can fight over this latter. Now, back to the topic at hand. This is what I know: Leonor seems to be an enforcer, professional as well as capable with various firearms. Evelinde is known for her ruthlessness and… most certain insanity as well as her body count. The imp in their group is a mechanic, of all things. She also seems the least interested, although I have very little in the form of information, rumors or otherwise. While the first mistress seen openly was Leonor, he spends most of his time with Evelinde, Leonor being a close second. As for Zana? What my contacts have shared is how much she spends working on machinery, or something within the Tower. Apparently she is in great demand, but seems to ignore her partners a great deal."

Stella didn't care about that, and she let it be known. "She could be the greatest gift for impkind for all I care. She is still a damn imp, and a sore point that will make this difficult for me." With good reason. Few Goetia would live down that humiliation. Worse if the imp came first, and this one DID. In this case it would be even worse that, legally speaking, Stella's target would be the wife. The fucking indignity. "Who would be so low in the totem pole that she'd find pairing with this man an upgrade? Ophelia, you may have some predilections, but I highly doubt even you'd sink that low."

This earned an offended hoot from said woman. Not in bad blood, of course, Stella would find Ophelia's tastes base and hardly worth her attention beyond the occasional humiliation, but they all knew that each one of them had their own predilections. So long as they weren't present to see how the others got off, that was fine.

Still, the problem remained. And Stella knew the others would understand her desire to keep complaining. "But this would be too much for anyone that comes to mind. Not even the most depraved noblewoman I know would be willing to bend over for a mortal whose first pick had included an imp! A toy, plaything or a debauchery magnet used as an afterthought? Fine. Otherwise having an imp being sworn into such a thing, a damn contract with LUCIFER, would be an humiliation no Goetia would be willing to live through."

Angus, not Ophelia, was the one to offer her a solution, and a deep, rumbling chuckle. "Well, you aren't wrong there. In fact you don't know anyone that would live with that shame, neither does Ophelia, or I... But I know of someone who COULD be persuaded into it.."

Stella had to blink. She was sure Ophelia was more dumbfounded than she was. Angus was many things, but information only interested him if someone was going to die, or suffer. Cruelty was what made him smile after all.

"And how do you know? Nearly everyone is aware of how much you stick your ear out if it helps you bring suffering to someone. But this?" Clearly Ophelia was intrigued.

"Oh, Ophelia. It is very easy to learn such things… Mostly because she was scheduled to be executed and a lot of people like to talk about our misfortunes, be it a fellow noble of the rabble." Angus said so with the ease and clarity of someone simply saying 'hi'. "Her family was an ongoing discussion by many long before that, and now everyone is speculating about everything they do or could do. And interesting topic to pass the time with a few amicable fellows. But I digress. Do either of you know about House Featherfire?"

Featherfire, Featherfire... The Ignis clan. Yes, an offshoot. Stella didn't need to mull it over too much after all. They had been embroidered in a betrayal of Satan's laws. She didn't know EVERY detail, but apparently it hadn't been that big.

Not that whoever found out gave a shit.

From what Stella could remember, they had been one of those rare, largely unimportant Goetia, that were going to get the axe. An example, a show more like, of how everyone in Hell had to watch out, because pissing the big boss off wasn't smart. Not that Lucifer gave a shit, Stella knew that much. Whatever the Ignis sub family had done was so minor it didn't even register on the Lord of Hell's radar, and if it did, he couldn't give less of a crap if he tried. But someone else had been far too vocal and Lucifer didn't have the patience to deal with the idiocy of his court voicing their complaints, much less some retard asking if he was growing weak.

"Weren't they supposed to be offed months ago?" Stella finally supplied as she crossed an arm under her breasts. This better be good. She stopped giving this story, and that faction of the Ignis family, any attention because their fate was a done deal. At least it was supposed to be. "I don't want to piss someone else off, insignificant as they may be, to keep a minor house alive."

"That is the fun bit." Angus chuckled that cruel, loud laugh of his. "Apparently the one pushing for their execution was so big a loudmouth, Lucifer told him to shut the fuck up and WAIT until he was in the mood. Had he been quiet, like he seemed to be after getting what he wanted, things would've been done and dusted. But no, a few months ago he began to raise a stink about it. Apparently something happened within HIS own family, pissed him off and made him start DEMANDING things. So, considering our dear lord's short fuse when someone bothers him more than they are worth, it is no surprise Lucifer opted to spank his ass in public."

Ophelia chimed in with morbid curiosity. "Literally?"

"Almost!" Angus snickered. "Lucifer got up from his throne and bopped his beak. Almost caved the old fool's face in. And to add insult to injury he made a declaration: The Featherfire household is in limbo right now, and almost as close to gone as Limbo itself is. Until Lucifer sees it fit, they will be under house arrest. All that sustains them is Lucifer now having his attention elsewhere."

"Hmm… Well, it could work. I doubt anyone else is just as close to done deal as them. At least those that are willing to work with Lucifer. Far too many young mavericks getting their heads lopped off as of late." Stella sighed as she walked towards her mirror. She'd need to make a few adjustments later. Having to present her best to those mortals (and the leech), not to speak of her idiot husband, was not appealing in the slightest, but needs must. Such fucking disgra-.

Don't get angry. Get back to the plan. Don't let anyone know how annoyed you are. Lucifer ordered this, and it came with a fat paycheck, not in money, but clout. This was important. This was a chance. Annoyances are but a stepping stone. That is what she repeated a few times in her mind before speaking once more.

"Yes, survival may be worth the humiliation. They have little else to lose after all, and I am sure at least one young woman was among their number." Stella hummed as she went through what faces she could remember. No one would call her a bright bulb, but when it came to matters of the court, she knew how to keep what she considered important always in mind. At least when her anger didn't cloud her mind "I shall make preparations to contact them as soon as possible. I highly doubt anyone else in our circle, at least those still worth a damn, will be a better pick than these Ignis rejects."

"Oh, I can expedite that for you, Stella. A few words spoken the right way will make your work easier." Although Angus' tone meant he more likely wanted to threaten others however he could. Everyone needs a hobby, and Angus would consider this favor 'paid off' if he got to have fun. "Just give me a few days and I should call you with some news."

"I wouldn't be adverse to that. You know how to get people to listen. Less of a chance for them to misunderstand where they stand." Stella nodded to herself. At least Angus' cruelty always came in handy. "But if that is how this'll go, I will have to, ugh… be a good host in the meantime."

"Do try, dear." Ophelia chimed with a grin Stella could feel through the phone. "Their vengeance prone shenanigans are no secret, true. However, I heard the family in general is rather loyal and straightforward. If you don't anger them, they should leave you alone, or help you. They are apparently 'stupid good', if the definition means anything to you. However, were you to offend them too much…"

Stella wanted so badly to tell Ophelia to shove it. There was the smallest, most minuscule chance, that the woman was truly doing it out of concern. Having people you considered anywhere near a 'friend' in her position was rare, and usually dangerous. Having someone that had been in that spot for years usually, USUALLY, meant they were indeed what they seemed to be. Such people were beyond rare.

And Stella could admit that both Ophelia and Angus had certain things in common with her that cemented their relationship. Shitting on Stolas being just one of the most cathartic when she was feeling cruel enough.

Perhaps, just perhaps, she should've been nicer. She had been informed of the ill conceived skirmish that took place around a month ago, their initiation as it were. A brutal, gruesome show of just how wrong in the head The Order was. Even Exterminators were far quicker and less vicious, sometimes. There was the smallest of chances to see Lucifer favoring the family under his care if they were to lash out at her, if she ever went beyond words. After all, what information she had did point the humans to be rather respectful and nonviolent unless ordered, at least for now. Ophelia and Angus' mentions had been just confirmation that what she had been given wasn't total bullshit.

Whatever the case, what was done was already set in stone. And Stella truly did not feel the need to debase herself in favor of currying some rapport with the wannabes that wouldn't last a year in Hell. And if they did survive? Well, begrudging respect, for however long it lasts. She cared very little otherwise.

"Well, it is a bit too late for that. Nor would I offer them a smile even if it kills me." Stella grumbled. No way no how was she going to kiss a mortal's ass, useful, dangerous or not. "They aren't here to like me. They are here for me to hand them a useless bag of feathers and so my husband does his duties by trying to teach them magic. I'll tolerate them and they shall be happy about it."

Again, Stella could see it, and this time Ophelia was shrugging. "Whatever you say, hun. Just make sure not to push too hard. I highly doubt they'll do anything, but you never know." Though she did manage to keep her voice serious for one moment. "And we both know that, if Lucifer has his eyes on them, he'd see their actions as more justified than yours. I'd prefer if that wasn't the case."

"We'll be there with you if it happens though. I'll get to you as soon as I am done on my end." Angus was the first to leave the conversation, with Ophelia not far behind. Although Stella doubted either of them would back her if shit hit the fan.

Good. She needed neither pity nor help unless she asked for it and had something to pay in exchange for whatever she required.

Besides, Stella had enough of a headache having to prepare the place for the day.

Worse. She had to make a plan to get that fucking imp to visit the same day this human's possible 'wife' came about. A displeasure she realized far too late, but one she'd make sure came to happen.

Her work wouldn't be done until that idiotic woman signed the contract. Stella hated the idea, but she needed the two together. Being told 'you'll be second to an imp' had only a fraction of the effect finding your rival in front of you would generate. If this woman was unsuitable, better discard her fast, and then let her be executed as the useless trash she was.

If nothing else, Stella hoped that, whenever the meeting happened, that Ignis wannabe would have a worse day than hers.

---

End notes:

1st: Saw the last episode this month, as did everyone else I bet. It was no doubt about Fizz and Ozzy, although I am going to say 'Called It' when i wrote down that Asmodeus likely would've crushed Valentino like a fucking bug. Lust and love are usually very close together in a relationship. Having no love, or no lust, for your partner is generally very rare and, more often than not, means the relationship will likely not work. It can, but humans have primary tastes for a reason. Considering forced sex, unless you are into that shit (which probably makes things a bit complicated), kills the desire for intimacy in many cases, it comes to reason for Ozzie to utterly hate the idea. It would be the true antithesis to his very being: Love is fine, if seen as 'negative' because most see it as a virtue (unless abused), whereas Ozzie should be focusing on the 'evil' side of it all. Bullshit if you ask me, but hey, it is fucking Hell.

2nd: I wanted to make it clear that humans are not demons. They act similar, but one thing I'd say they are different from us is that they don't have a 'sexuality', so to speak. Oh yeah, I know in canon they do, but it is complicated: Demons are entities of chaos, the antithesis of Heaven's angels, so to me it would be weird for them to be THAT close so as to have a particular 'desire' (whereas angels would be the opposite and have close to none, prolly more likely to be asexual and have very little romantic desires) instead of just liking something in special but being more than willing to go for anything. Again, personal interpretation and the fact that it is a bit tiresome how every species must be an analog of humanity, with demons and angels being easy to excuse because they were made by the same dood. Still, in my version thy just swing every way like a fucking battleaxe because I think it is fitting while angels I see to repress every desire unless they have enough contact with humans or demons (Exorcists being fucking murder hobbos, and happy about it, for example).